Sitting of 4 February 1823

ADDRESS ON THE KING'S SPEECH AT THE OPENING OF THE SESSION.
The Speaker having reported the Speech of the Lords Commissioners, and read it to the House,
Mr. Childerose to move an Address to his majesty. He said, he could safely declare, that it seldom fell to the lot of an individual to stand in a situation of greater embarrassment than he did at that moment—a situation which strongly called for that patience and favour, which he was taught to believe the House never denied to an individual addressing them for the first time. He rejoiced that the Speech of his majesty contained so frank and so satisfactory a declaration of those principles which admitted the right of self government on the part of other nations. He was sure that that admission would give satisfaction to all descriptions of his majesty's subjects. He was sure that it was, that it had been, and that it ever would be, the wish of this country to maintain the dignity and the honour of the crown; but, after the long hostilities in which it had been engaged, the House, he was persuaded, would feel with him, that it would be the height of impolicy to rush into a war, unless on a question mainly and deeply affecting the interests of the country. A war was to be avoided, on account of the fresh burthens it would necessarily impose, and on account of the injurious
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effect it would have on our improving commerce. All interference against Spain was to be avoided, on account of those principles of equity and of justice which should actuate one free nation in its conduct towards another: and here he could not forbear expressing his opinion, that the interference against Spain would be most disgraceful to this country, were she to become, in any degree, a party to it. It was not for him to enter into a discussion of the merits or demerits of the Spanish constitution. The Spaniards alone ought to determine that question; but he believed that there existed on the part of Spain a power to preserve that liberty and that honour, so necessary to its support. This spirit was, he hoped, sufficient, unless the pressure of external affairs should unfortunately lead to a military government. He wished not to be misunderstood upon this important point; for he did not mean to assert, that there might not exist a case in which one government might interfere with another: but that particular case ought to be founded on principles to which all would give their support, and when the very existence of the country was at stake. He confessed he saw nothing in the case of Spain, which would justify any such interference—nothing that would justify either France, Austria, or Russia, in interfering. Deeply impressed with these feelings, he could not but sincerely rejoice at the course which his majesty's government had adopted; and he hoped the efforts of his majesty would be effectual to prevent a war, which would have the effect of disturbing the peace of Europe.—He could not but sincerely congratulate the House upon that portion of his majesty's Speech which expressed his majesty's hopes, that peace would be preserved in the east of Europe; and he hoped that it might be restored by granting rational liberty to Greece. He was convinced the House would derive satisfaction from the prospect held out by his majesty, of preventing further depredations in the West Indian seas, and obtaining indemnity to British subjects. But it was still more satisfactory, that these just demands had been pressed upon the Spanish government in such a conciliatory tone and spirit, as to convince that government itself, that they had not been brought forward with any desire to add to its embarrassments. It was not less pleasing to hear, that further measures

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had been taken by our government, for the suppression of that nefarious traffic, the slave-trade. He regretted that doubts had been entertained by foreign governments of the sincerity of this country; but he hoped that the steps which had now been taken, for the more effectual suppression of that trade, would tend to the attainment of that object which this country had so much at heart.—He might also be permitted to congratulate the House upon the reduction in the estimates, and the satisfactory state of the revenue. The former circumstance was an evidence of the laudable attention of government to the wishes of the people; and the latter was a satisfactory proof of the prosperity of the country in the aggregate, and held out a strong hope of the continuance of this state of gradual amelioration, and of the further assistance to be afforded. Whether this assistance could be best obtained by one application of the surplus of the revenue, or by another, was a point which it would be premature in him to discuss; but it was most satisfactory to know, that a surplus to a considerable amount did actually exist; and the great question hereafter would be, in what manner that surplus could be best applied.—He next alluded to the distress under which the agriculturists had laboured, and still continued to labour. They had submitted with such patience and fortitude to these sufferings, that they were entitled to every degree of indulgence which could possibly be extended to them. When he called to mind the gloomy forebodings of many intelligent individuals, with regard to our commercial and agricultural interests, and contrasted them with the present admitted prosperity, he could not help doubting the propriety of the gloomy ideas so entertained, and was induced to believe that great hopes of amelioration might be entertained by every owner and occupier of land.—When he called to mind the reductions that were made in the last session, as well as those intended reductions of which they received an intimation that day, he saw reason to believe, that government were inclined, as far as it was in their power, to lighten the burthens of the people. The reduction of rents that had been so generally made, would of itself have given relief to the occupier, were it not for that great load of debt, which had been contracted in another currency. Notwithstanding the
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difficulties of their situation, he yet hoped for better times for the agriculturists. He looked forward to an equalization of the growth of produce, and of the consumption of the country, by which means the agriculturists would derive that fair profit, which every member, as well on private as on public grounds, would wish to see them receive.—The state of Ireland, to which the Speech of his majesty adverted, required the utmost attention from the government and parliament. No one who looked at the newspapers of the day, could fail to see the state of disorganization which existed in that country, or could help feeling for its sufferings. He had the utmost respect for the distinguished nobleman at the head of the government of that country, but he, unassisted by parliament, could do but little. He believed that it was the anxious wish of the ministers and of parliament, to ameliorate the condition of Ireland: he believed both were anxious to afford her every practical relief; and he had reason to think, that the present session would not be suffered to pass by without extending a gradual amelioration of her state to that interesting part of the empire, so that she might be truly incorporated with this country, and that an end might be put to those civil and religious feuds, which had been the great source of her misfortunes. He now hoped that he had fulfilled the duty imposed upon him; and that he had done so in no war unbecoming a gentleman generally attached to the principles of his majesty's government.—The hon. gentleman concluded by thanking the House for the indulgence which had been shown to him, and by moving,
"That an humble Address be presented to his majesty, to return to his majesty the thanks of this House for the gracious Speech which he has commanded to be made to us from the throne:
"To acknowledge with gratitude the unremitting efforts which his majesty has, since his majesty last met us in parliament, exerted for the preservation of the peace of Europe:
"To assure his majesty that we learn with the highest satisfaction that, faithful to the principles which his majesty has promulgated to the world, as constituting the rule of his conduct, his majesty declined being party to any proceedings at Verona, which could be deemed an interference in the internal concerns of Spain, on the part of foreign powers:

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"To express our anxious hope, that the endeavours and good offices which his majesty has used, and continues to use, for the purpose of allaying the irritation which unhappily exists between the French and Spanish governments, may vet be successful, in averting the calamity of war between France and Spain:
"That we are gratified by the information that his majesty flatters himself that peace will be preserved in the east of Europe, and that his majesty continues to receive from his allies, and generally from other powers, assurances of their unaltered disposition to cultivate with his majesty those friendly relations which it is equally his majesty's object on his part to maintain:
"That we rejoice to hear that the discussions which had been long pending with the court of Madrid, respecting depredations committed upon the commerce of his majesty's subjects in the West Indian seas, and other grievances of which his majesty had been under the necessity of complaining, have terminated in an admission by the Spanish government of the justice of his majesty's complaints, and in an engagement for satisfactory reparation:
"That we return our humble thanks to his majesty for the assurance that his majesty, in pursuance of the addresses presented to him by the two Houses of Parliament with respect to the foreign slave trade, directed propositions for the more effectual suppression of the evil to be brought forward by his plenipotentiary in the conferences at Verona: and for the information that articles have been added to the treaties on this subject already concluded between his majesty and the governments of Spain and the Netherlands, which will extend the operation of those treaties, and greatly facilitate their execution:
"To thank his majesty for having directed the estimates of the current year to be laid before us; and to express the satisfaction with which we learn that their amount will he found materially below that of last year, and that this diminution of charge, combined with the progressive improvement of the revenue, has produced a surplus exceeding his majesty's expectation:
"To assure his majesty that we shall feel the utmost gratification in availing ourselves of the opportunity further considerably to reduce the burdens of the
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people, after making due provision for the services of the year, and without affecting public credit:
"To express our full participation in the impression made upon his majesty by the manifestations of loyalty and attachment to his person and government which his majesty received in his late visit to Scotland:
"That it gives us the greatest pleasure to learn that the provision made in the last session for the relief of the distresses in considerable districts in Ireland, has been productive of the happiest effects: and to assure his majesty that he may rely upon our willing and careful consideration of such measures of internal regulation as may be calculated to promote and secure the tranquillity of Ireland, and to improve the habits and condition of the people:
"That we concur with his majesty in deeply regretting the continued depression of the agricultural interest; and that while we share the satisfaction with which his majesty contemplates the increasing activity which pervades the manufacturing districts, and the flourishing condition of our commerce in most of its principal branches, we trust, with his majesty, that the progressive prosperity of so many of the interests of the country cannot fail to contribute to the gradual improvement of that great interest which is the most important of them all."
Mr. Wildmanrose to second the Address, and after alluding to his own embarrassed feelings, observed, that it was to him a matter of great consolation, that there were so many points in his majesty's Speech which afforded him an opportunity of congratulating honourable members upon the happy prospect of improvement held out to the country. He adverted to the course which his majesty's government had wisely thought fit to adopt in the councils at Verona, and felt convinced that every honourable member would agree with him, that it would have been highly derogatory from the dignity of this country to have interfered with the internal affairs of Spain. He sincerely hoped that the anxious endeavours of his majesty to avert the calamity of war between France and Spain would be successful. He entertained sanguine expectations, that in the east of Europe the mediation of his majesty would have a beneficial effect. He then shortly alluded to the steps which had been taken with the British go-

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vernment with regard to the depredations in the West Indian seas. He next called the attention of the House to the improving state of the revenue, and offered his sincere congratulations, that a surplus had been produced, exceeding the expectation of government. The system of economy which had been pursued in former years would, he doubted not, produce a similar improvement in the revenue accounts of the present year. Without in any degree injuring the public credit, every hope was held out that the burdens of the people would be considerably lessened, by a further reduction of taxation. He adverted to the provisions which had been made by parliament for the relief of Ireland, and expressed his great satisfaction that the prompt assistance so afforded had had a beneficial effect. He hoped that further measures would be adopted, which would have the effect of rendering the industry and energy of that country advantageous to themselves and to surrounding nations. With respect to the manufacturing and commercial interests, he might be allowed to congratulate the House upon their gradual state of improvement. From this smiling prospect of amelioration, he drew the happiest auguries; and, after having but lately been engaged in those long and arduous struggles which had conferred a lasting honour upon the British nation, it was a proud satisfaction to reflect, that this country had recovered from her difficulties, and was now in a most prosperous state. He then adverted to the propositions which had been brought forward by his majesty's plenipotentiary at Verona, for the more effectual suppression of the slave trade; and trusted, that the interference of this country would prove ultimately beneficial. This government had acted upon the best and wisest principles, and had gone so far as even to sacrifice her own colonies, rather than suffer other nations to carry on that nefarious traffic. Other nations had enjoyed the credit of having abolished the slave trade equally with this country; but he deeply regretted, that the declarations of some of the foreign powers had been merely nominal, and that they had carried on the trade with redoubled energy, and with a tenfold degree of cruelty. He hoped that ministers would continue to exert every effort to suppress this iniquitous traffic, and thus prevent the total destruction of the British colonies. In considering the distresses endured by the
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agricultural interests, he could not but sympathize with the regret so feelingly expressed by his majesty. He however trusted, that as the commercial interests of the country were in such an improving state, the agriculturists would derive benefit there from, and gradually recover their former prosperity. He thought that a good understanding between landlord and tenant would greatly tend to promote the desired object. He felt, too, that a portion of their sufferings might be alleviated, by adopting a different system of agriculture: he particularly alluded to the too general production of wheat by farmers. If other grain were brought to market in larger, and wheat in smaller quantities, the effect, he thought, would be extremely advantageous to the grower. If the tenants could be induced to return to those habits of economy with which their forefathers conducted their concerns, it would also tend to an alleviation of the burdens now weighing so heavily upon them. As connected with this important subject, a revision of the poor laws, he conceived, could not fail to be most beneficial. This was a question which called for the immediate consideration of the House, and he hoped that the session would not be allowed to be passed over, without a minute investigation of the subject. He concluded by seconding the Address.
Sir Joseph Yorkesaid, he was afraid he should be accused of great presumption in offering himself thus early to the notice of the House, after the two speeches which they had just heard; but though not called upon, he should still offer a few words, not to move or second, but to third the Address. He would not, however, detain the House by going over the general topics to which it referred. It was only upon that part of it which related to the foreign policy of the country, that he would raise his feeble voice. It was with real satisfaction that he found ministers following the good old feelings of the country, and not advocating an interference in the internal concerns of another state. He was glad to find that the instructions given to our ambassador at Verona were to be silent on the occasion when the other states raised their voices in support of an interference with Spain. By silence, he meant not acquiescence in, but opposition to, that interference. He thought this country was bound to show to France and the world, the absurdity,

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impolicy, and injustice of a declaration of war against Spain at the present moment. For his own part, he would say, that a more outrageous act of violence never was, and never could be committed, than the present meditated attack upon that brave nation. It should be recollected, that these Spaniards were the very men who placed the Bourbons on the throne—who seated Ferdinand himself at the head of the government; at a period when no power could have forced him against their will. And, was it against such men that the Bourbons of France were now going to war? He trusted the evil might be yet averted; for who could say, when blood was once shed, and when cannon were fired on this side of the Bidassoa—who could say, that this country could long remain neuter? Circumstanced as we were, it might indeed be wished that ours should be a neutral station; but with a commerce extending from pole to pole; with interests which must be more or less affected by every hostile movement between the powers of Europe, and particularly between those two powers he had named, he would ask any man, whose breast beat with honest feelings of independence, how, situated as we were, we could keep long out of such a war, if once commenced? It was for this reason, and because he was anxious to avert the evil if possible, by a strong declaration of the feelings of this country, that he would wish every member of that House to rise in his place, and state his opinion, as to whether France was right in her present course or not. He would wish even that every member was required to get up in alphabetical order, and state what were his sentiments on this occasion. His hon. friend, the mover of the Address, had expressed himself strongly and warmly against all interference, and had come to the House in full military attire, as if war had been already declared. It was not, however, and he trusted it would not; for he thought the best course which we could take was, if possible, to be strictly and honourably neuter.
Mr. Brougham* rose, he said, in consequence of the appeal made to every member of the House by the gallant officer who had just sat down, to declare his sentiments. He answered to that appeal, which did credit to the honour, to the English feeling, of that gallant officer;
* From the original edition, printed for J. Ridgway.
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and he joined with him, and with every man who deserved the name of Briton, in unqualified abhorrence and detestation of the audacious interference to which he had alluded; or, if that detestation was qualified, it could only be by contempt and disgust at the canting hypocrisy of the language in which the loathsome principles of the tyrants were promulgated to the world. He had risen to make this declaration, called upon as he was, in common with every member; but he should ill discharge his duty, if he did not mark his sense of the candour of the two hon. gentlemen who had moved and seconded the address, and express his satisfaction at what, in the House, however divided upon other points, would be almost, and in the country certainly would be quite, unanimously felt to be, the sound and liberal view which they had taken of this great affair. Indeed, he knew not, circumstanced as they were, that they could go farther; or even that his majesty's ministers, in the present state of this very delicate question, ought to have gone beyond the communication of to-day. That communication, coupled with the commentary of the honourable mover, would be the tidings of joy, and a signal for exultation to England—it would spread joy and exultation over Spain,—would be a source of comfort to all other free states,—but would bring confusion and dismay to the allies, who, with a pretended respect for, but a vile mockery, of religion and morality, made war upon liberty in the abstract, and endeavoured to crush national independence wherever it was to be found; and were now preparing, with their armed hordes, to carry their frightful projects into execution. That Spain would take comfort from the principles avowed in the House this evening, he was certain; and he was not less clear, that the handful of men at present surrounding the throne of our nearest and most interesting neighbour, (who, by the way, had, some how or other, been induced to swerve from the prudent counsels which had till of late guided his course) would feel astonished and dismayed with the proceedings of this day, in proportion as others would be encouraged. Cheering, however, as was the prevalence of such sentiments; highly as they raised the character of the nation; and much as might be augured from their effects, still he thought no man could deny, that the country was at present ap-

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proaching to a crisis such as had not occurred perhaps for above a century, certainly not since the French revolution. Whether he viewed the internal condition of the kingdom, and the severe distress which pressed upon that most important and most useful branch of the community, the farmers; or cast his eyes upon our foreign relations, the circumstances of this country appeared, to the mind of every thinking man, critical and alarming. They might, it was true, soon wear a better aspect, and we might escape the calamities of war; but he must be a bold and possibly a rash man, certainly not a very thoughtful one, who could take upon him to foretell that we should have so happy a fortune. It was the deep consideration of these circumstances which induced him to come forward and make a declaration of his principles; and to state, that with a strict adherence to the most rigid economy in every department—the reduction of establishments which he was at all times, if not the first, at least amongst the foremost, to support, and which was so necessary, under the ordinary circumstances of the country, must now be recommended, with a certain modification, in order to adapt our policy to the present emergence. He was guilty of no inconsistency whatever, in thus qualifying the doctrine of unsparing retrenchment; indeed, the greater the chance of some extraordinary demands upon our resources, from the aspect of affairs abroad, the more imperious was the necessity of sparing every portion of expense not absolutely requisite. Economy to its utmost extent, he still recommended as politic, and urged as due to the people of right, and every useless expense was now to be regarded as more inexcusable than ever, both because the country was suffering more severely, and because it might become necessary to increase some parts of our establishment. He said he was certainly not prepared to propose, or to suffer, as far as his voice went, any the least reduction of our naval force, to the extent even of a single ship or seaman; on the contrary, he feared the time might not be far distant, when its increase would be required. Any such augmentation of the army, he could not conceive justifiable in almost any circumstances; for, happen what would, a war on our part, carried on with the wasteful and scandalous profusion of the last, and upon the same vast scale, or any
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thing like it, was wholly out of the question.—Mr. B. here entered at some length into the internal state of the country; the indications of distress at the various meetings; the inconsistency of the violent attacks made upon the Norfolk petition, by those who had passed the Gold Coin bill of 1811, which enacted the parts of the Norfolk plan most liable to objection—the inadequacy of any relief, to be obtained from repeal of taxes that only affected small districts,—the absolute necessity of repealing a large amount of the taxes pressing generally on all classes—and, for this purpose, urged the necessity of a saving wherever it could be effected with safety; and, at any rate, of giving up the sinking fund. He then proceeded:—He thought that if war was once commenced, we should soon be compelled to take some part in it, one way or other, and that for such an emergency, every shilling which could be saved by the most rigid economy, should be reserved. He thought our intervention in some shape would become unavoidable. We were bound, for instance, to assist one party, our old ally Portugal, if she should be attacked; and it was not likely that she could remain neuter, if the present hateful conspiracy against Spain ended in open hostility. It was in this view of the question that he differed from the gallant officer who last spoke; and he was glad that he could not collect from the honourable mover or seconder, the ominous words "strict neutrality," as applied to this country, in the threatened contest. A state of declared neutrality on our part would be nothing less than a practical admission of those principles which we all loudly condemned, and a licence to the commission of all the atrocities which we were unanimous in deprecating. He would say, therefore, that it was the duty of his majesty's ministers (with whom he should rejoice to co-operate on the occasion—and so, he was certain, would every one who then heard him, waving for a season all differences of opinion on lesser matters) to adopt and to announce the resolution, that when certain things shall take place on the continent, they will be ready to assist the Spaniards—a measure necessary to avert evils, which even those the least prone to war (of whom he avowed himself one) must admit to be inevitable, should a wavering or pusillanimous course be pursued. Our assistance would be necessary to resist the wicked enforcement of

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principles, contrary to the law of nations, and repugnant to every idea of national independence. To judge of the principles now shamelessly promulgated, let any man read patiently, if he could, the declarations in the notes of Russia, Prussia, and Austria; and, with all due respect to those high authorities, he would venture to say, that to produce any thing more preposterous, more absurd, more extravagant, better calculated to excite a mingled feeling of disgust and derision, would baffle any chancery or state-paper office in Europe. He should not drag the House through the whole nauseous details; he would only select a few passages by way of sample, from those notable productions of legitimacy. In the communication from the minister of his Prussian majesty, the constitution of 1812, restored in 1820, and now established, was described as a system which, "confounding all elements, and all power, and assuming only the single principle of a permanent and legal opposition against the government, necessarily destroyed that central and tutelary authority which constitutes the essence of the monarchical system." Thus far the king of Prussia, in terms, which, to say the least, afforded some proof of the writer's knowledge of the monarchical system, and of the contrast which, in his opinion, it bore to the present government of Spain. The emperor of Russia, in terms not less strong, called the constitutional government of the cortes, "laws which the public reason of Europe, enlightened by the experience of all ages, stamped with its disapprobation;" and complained of its wanting the "conservative principle of social order." Where, in the conservative character of keeper of the peace of Europe, did his imperial majesty discover that the constitution of Spain had been stamped with the disapprobation of the public reason of Europe? Let the House observe, that the "public reason of Europe, enlightened by the experience of all ages," happened to be that of his imperial majesty himself for the last ten years exactly, and no more; for, notwithstanding that he had the "experience of all ages" before his eyes, he did, in the year 1812, enter into a treaty with Spain, with the same cortes, the same constitution, not one iota of which had been changed, up to that very hour. In that treaty, his imperial majesty the emperor of all the Russias, speaking of the
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then government, did use the very word by which he and his allies would themselves be designated—the word, by the abuse of which they were known—he did call the Spanish government of the cortes "a legitimate government," that very government, of the constitution of which, the Spaniards had not changed one word; and God forbid they should change even a letter of it, while they had the bayonet of the foreign soldier at their breast! He hoped, if it had faults—and some faults it might have—that when the hour of undisturbed tranquillity arrived, the Spaniards themselves would correct them. If they would listen to the ardent wish of their best friends—of those who had marked their progress, and gloried in the strides they had made towards freedom and happiness, and would go to the world's end to serve them in their illustrious struggle—of those, above all, who would not have them yield an iota to force—it would be to disarm the reasonable objections of their friends, but not give up any thing to the menaces of their enemies.—He should not go more into detail at the present moment, for ample opportunities would occur of discussing this subject; but he would ask, in the name of common sense, could any thing be more absurd, more inconsistent, than that Spain should now be repudiated as illegitimate by those, some of whom had, in treaties with her, described her government, in its present shape, by the very term "legitimate government?" In the treaty of friendship and alliance, concluded in 1812 between the emperor of all the Russias and the Spanish cortes, Ferdinand being then a close prisoner in France, his imperial majesty, by the third article, acknowledged in express terms, the cortes "and the constitution sanctioned and decreed by it."—But not only was the conduct of the allies towards Spain inconsistent with the treaties of some among them with Spain,—he would show that their principle of interference, was wholly at variance with treaties recently made amongst themselves. He would prove, that one of the fundamental principles of a late treaty, was decidedly opposed to any discussion whatever amongst them, respecting the internal situation of that country. By the 4th article of the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, dated Nov. 1818, it was laid down, that a special congress might be held, from time to time, on the affairs of Europe:

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or, to use the words, and borrowing the hypocritical cant of their predecessors, the three powers who basely partitioned Poland—who, while they despoiled a helpless nation of its independence, kept preaching about the quiet of Europe, the integrity of its states, and the morality and happiness of their people—who talked daily about their desire of calm repose, the atmosphere, he well knew, in which despotism loved to breathe, but which an ancient writer had eloquently painted, when he said, that they mistook for peace, the stillness of desolation—following the vile cant of their ancestors, the allies declared, at Aix-la-Chapelle, that their object was to secure the tranquillity of Europe—that their fundamental principle should be, never to depart from a strict adherence to the law of nations: "faithful to these principles," (continued this half-sermon, half-romance, and half-state paper) "they would only study the happiness of their people, the progress of the peaceful arts, and attend carefully to the interests of morality and religion, of late years, unhappily too much neglected"—Here, again, following the example of the autocratrix Catherine—the spoiler of Poland, who, having wasted and pillaged it, province after province, poured in hordes of her barbarians—which hewed their way to the capital through myriads of Poles, and there, for one whole day, from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, butchered its unoffending inhabitants, unarmed men and women, and infants; and, not content with this work of undistinguishing slaughter, after the pause of the night had given time far cooling, rose on the morrow, renewed the carnage, and continued it throughout that day; and after this, ordered a Te Deum to be sung, to return thanks for her success over the enemies of Poland!—That mild and gentle sovereign, in the midst of these most horrible outrages upon every feeling of human nature, issued a proclamation, in which she assured the Poles, that she felt towards them, "the solicitude of a tender mother, whose heart is only filled with sentiments of kindness for all her children." Who could, or who dared, doubt, that she was all she so described herself; and who could, after the experience of the last year, dispute the legitimate descent of the allied powers, and the purity of their intentions towards Spain? But, along with this declaration of the object of
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future congresses, came the stipulation which he should like to see some German statist, some man versed in the manufactory of state-papers, compare with, and reconcile to, the notes fashioned at Verona, not unlikely by the very hands which had produced the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle. The stipulation was this:—"Special congresses concerning the affairs of states not parties to this alliance, shall not take place, except" (and here he should like to know how Spain, which was no party to the alliance, had brought herself within the exception)—"except in consequence of a formal invitation from such states;" "and their ambassador shall assist at such congresses." How would any German statist reconcile these contradictions? Here the interference in the internal affairs of Spain was not only not "by special invitation" from, but was in downright opposition to, the will of Spain. Thus stood the conduct of those holy allies diametrically opposed to their own professions and engagements; and by such means was the attempt now made to crush the independence of a brave people!—But it was not in the case of Spain alone, that the consideration of these papers was important—they furnished grounds of rational fear to all independent governments; for he should be glad to learn, what case it was (upon the doctrines now advanced) to which this principle of interference might not be extended—on which the authority to comment, criticise, and dictate, might not be assumed? The House was not aware of the latitude to which the interference of those armed legislators might be, nay actually was, extended. The revolt of the colonies was distinctly stated as one ground of interposition. The allies kindly offered their "intervention," to restore this great branch of "the strength of Spain." There was no end of the occasions for interfering which they took. One was rather alarming—the accident of a sovereign having weak or bad ministers. Russia, forsooth, was anxious to see Ferdinand surrounded with "the most enlightened, most faithful of his subjects"—men "of tried integrity and superior talents"—men, in a word, who should be every way worthy of himself. So that, according to these wise men of Verona (and this was a consideration which should be looked to, in some other countries as well as Spain) the existence of an inefficient or unprincipled adminis-

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tration, would be of itself a just ground of interference. The principle did not stop here: "ruinous loans," formed another ground, and "contributions unceasingly renewed;" "taxes which, for year after year, exhausted the public treasures and the fortunes of individuals." All these were instances, in which the principle of interference might apply to other countries beside Spain; and he had no doubt that when the same doctrines were extended to certain countries, the preparatory manifesto would make mention of agricultural distress and the sinking fund. But to complete all the charges against Spain, the Russian emperor finished his invective with the awful assertion, that, on the 7th of July, "blood was seen to flow in the palace of the king, and a civil war raged throughout the peninsula." It was true, that a revolt had been excited in some of the provinces. But by whom? An ally. It was produced by those cordons of troops, which were posted on the Spanish frontier, armed with gold and with steel, and affording shelter and assistance by force, to those in whose minds disaffection had been excited by bribery. It was also true, that blood had been shed. But, would it not be supposed, by any person unacquainted with the fact, and who only read the statement in the manifesto, that this was blood shed in an attempt to dethrone Ferdinand, and introduce some new and unheard-of form of government? At any rate, did not this statement plainly intend it to be supposed, that the constitutional party had made the onset, and shed royalist, if not royal blood? But, what was the fact? A few persons were killed who had first attacked the constitutionalists, in other words, mutinied against the established government, the government which the emperor Alexander himself had recognized as legitimate in 1812; and this he had now the audacity to call the shedding of blood by Spaniards in the palace of the king! As well might he accuse the people, the parliament, and the crown of England, of causing "blood to flow it the palace of the king," for ordering their sentinels to fire on some person whom they might find attempting to assassinate the sovereign, as accuse the Spaniards of such a crime, for the events which happened in July 1822.—He should pass over many other heavy charges levelled at the Spaniards, in phrases of terrible import, as harbouring a "disor-
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ganized philosophy," "indulging in dreams of fallacious liberty," and the want of "venerable and sacred rights," with which the Prussian note was loaded to repletion: and should proceed to the Russian, which objected to the Spaniards their want of the "true conservative principle of social order;" or, in other words, of despotic power, in the hands of one man, for his own benefit, at the expense of all mankind besides; and to their not falling within the scope of those "grano truths," which, though they were ever in their mouths, were no where explained by any one of the three sovereigns. The Austrian note discoursed largely of "the solid and venerable claims" which the Spanish nation had upon the rest of Europe: prayed it to adopt a better form of government than it had at present; and called upon it to reject a system which was at once "powerful and paralized." It would be disgusting to enter at any length into papers, at once so despicable in their execution, and in their plan so abominably iniquitous. There was but one sentiment held regarding them out of the House; and his excuse for taking notice of them now, was his desire to call forth a similar expression of feeling from the House itself. Monstrous and insolent and utterly unbearable, as all of them were, he considered that of Russia to be more monstrous, more insolent, and more prodigiously beyond all endurance, than the rest. It was difficult to determine which most to admire—the marvellous incongruity of her language and conduct now, with her former most solemn treaties; or the incredible presumption of her standing forward to lead the aggression, upon the independence of all free and polished states. Gracious God! Russia!—a power that was only half civilized—that, with all her colossal mass of physical strength, was still quite as much Asiatic as European—whose principles of policy, foreign and domestic, were completely despotic, and whose practices were almost altogether oriental and bar-barons! In all these precious documents, there was, with a mighty number of general remarks, mixed up a wondrous affectation of honest principles—a great many words covering ideas that were not altogether clear and intelligible; or, if they happened to be so, only placing their own deformity in a more hideous and detestable light: but, for argument, or any thing like it, there was none to be found

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from the beginning to the end of them.—They reasoned not, but spoke one plain language to Spain and to Europe, and this was its sum and substance "We have hundreds of thousands of hired mercenaries, and we will not stoop to reason with those whom we would insult and enslave." He admired the equal frankness with which this haughty language had been met by the Spanish government: the papers which it had sent forth were plain and laconic; and bluntly spoke this language:—"We are millions of freemen, and will not stoop to reason with those who threaten to enslave us." They hurled back the menace upon the head from which it issued, little caring whether it came from Goth, or Hun, or Calmuck; with a frankness that outwitted the craft of the Bohemian, and a spirit that defied the ferocity of the Tartar. If they found leagued against them the tyrants by whom the world was infested, they might console themselves with this reflection, that wherever there was an Englishman, either of the old world or of the new—wherever there was a Frenchman, with the miserable exception of that little band which now, for a moment, swayed the destinies of France, in opposition to the wishes and interests of its gallant and liberal people—a people which, after enduring the miseries of the revolution, and wading through its long and bloody wars, were entitled, if ever any people were, to a long enjoyment of the blessings of peace and liberty—wherever there breathed an Englishman or a true born Frenchman—wherever there existed a free heart or a virtuous mind, there Spain had a natural ally, and an inalienable friend. For his own part, he could not but admire the mixture of firmness and for bearance which the government of Spain had exhibited. When the allied monarchs were pleased to adopt a system of interference with the internal policy of Spain—when they thought fit to deal in minute and paltry criticisms upon the whole course of its domestic administration—when each sentence in their manifestoes was a direct personal insult to the government, nay, to every individual Spaniard, and when the most glaring attempts were made, in all their state papers, to excite rebellion in the country, and to stir up one class of the community against the other, it would not have surprised him, if, in the replies of the Spanish government, some allusion had been made to the domestic policy of the
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allied sovereigns; or if some of the allegations which had been so lavishly cast upon it, had been scornfully retorted upon those who had so falsely and so insolently called them forth. What could have been more pardonable, nay, what more natural, than for the Spanish government to have besought his Prussian majesty, who was so extremely anxious for the welfare and good government of Spain—who had shown himself so minute a critic on its laws and institutions, and who seemed so well versed in its recent history—to remember the promises which he had made some years ago to his own people, by whose gallant exertions, on the faith of those promises, he had retrained his lost crown? What would have been more natural than to have suggested, that it would be better, aye, and safer too in the end, to keep those promises, than to maintain, at his people's cost, and almost to their ruin, a prodigious army, only safely employed when in the act of ravaging the territories, or putting down the liberties, of his neighbours? The government of Spain would have had a right to make such representations; for his Prussian majesty owed much, very much, to its exertions: indeed, the gallant resistance which it made to the invasion of Buonaparté, had alone enabled Prussia to shake off the yoke; while, on the other hand, the Spaniards owed a debt of gratitude to the brave and honest people of Prussia, for beginning the resistance to Buonaparté in the north. Could any thing, he would also ask, have been more natural for the Spanish government, than to have asked the emperor of Austria, whether he, who now pretended to be so scrupulously fond of strict justice in Ferdinand's case, when it cost him nothing, or must prove a gain, had always acted with equal justice towards others, when he was himself concerned? Could any thing have been more natural, than to have suggested to him, that before he was generous to Ferdinand, he ought to be just to George;—that he ought to return to him the whole, or, at any rate, a considerable part of the twenty millions which he had borrowed of him?—a debt which, remaining unpaid, wasted the resources of a faithful ally of Spain, and tended mightily to cripple his exertions in her behalf? He wished likewise to know, what could have been more natural—nay, if the doctrine of interference in the internal concerns of neigh-

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bouring nations were at all admitted,—what could have been more rightful, in a free people, than to have asked him how it happened, that his dungeons were filled with all that was noble, and accomplished, and virtuous, and patriotic in the Milanese?—to have called on him to account for the innocent blood which he had shed in the north of Italy?—to have required at his hands satisfaction for the tortures inflicted in the vaults and caverns where the flower of his subjects were now languishing—to have demanded of him some explanation of that iron policy by which he has consigned fathers of families, the most virtuous and exalted in Europe, not to exile or death, but to a merciless imprisonment for ten, fifteen, and twenty years—nay, even for life, without a knowledge of the charge against them, or the crime for which they were punished? Even the emperor Alexander himself, tender and sensitive as he was at the sight of blood flowing within the precincts of a royal palace—a sight so monstrous, that, if his language could be credited, it had never before been seen in the history of the world—might have been reminded of passages in history, calculated to lessen his astonishment, at least, if not to soothe his feelings; for the emperor Alexander, if the annals of Russian story might be trusted, however pure in himself, and however happy in always having agents equally innocent, was nevertheless descended from an illustrious line of ancestors, who had, with exemplary uniformity, dethroned, imprisoned, and slaughtered, husbands, brothers, and children. Not that he could dream of imputing those enormities to the parents, or sisters, or consorts; but it did happen, that those exalted and near relations had never failed to reap the whole benefit of the atrocities, and had always failed to bring the perpetrators to justice. In these circumstances, if he had had the honour of being in the confidence of his majesty of all the Russias, he should have been the last person in the world to have counselled his imperial master to touch upon so tender a topic: he should humbly have besought him to think twice or thrice, nay, even a third, and a fourth time, before he ventured to allude to so delicate a subject: he should, with all proper deference, have requested him to meddle with any other topic: he should have directed him by preference to every other point of the compass: he should have implored him
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rather to try what he could say about Turkey, or Greece, or even Minorca, on which he had of late been casting many an amorous glance—in short, any thing, and every thing, before he approached the subject of "blood flowing within the precincts of a royal palace," and placed his allusion to it, like an artful rhetorician, upon the uppermost step of his climax. He found, likewise, in these self-same documents, a topic, for which the Spanish government, had it been so inclined, might have read to the holy alliance another severe lecture: he alluded to the glib manner in which the three potentates now talked of an individual, who, let his failings, or even his crimes be what they might, must always be regarded as a great and a resplendent character—who, because he was now no longer either upon a throne or at liberty, or even in life, was described by them, not merely as an ambitious ruler—not merely as an arbitrary tyrant, but as an upstart and an usurper. This was not the language which those potentates had formerly employed; nor was it the language which they were now entitled to use, rewarding this astonishing individual. Whatever epithets England, for instance, or Spain, might have a right to apply to his conduct, their mouths at least were stopped: they could have no right to call him usurper—they who, in his usurpations, had been most greedy accomplices, or willing tools. What entitled the king of Prussia to hold such language now?—he who had followed his fortunes with the most shameless subserviency, after the thorough beating he received from him, when trampled upon and trodden down in the year 1806? No sooner had he risen again and recovered the upright attitude of man, than he fell upon his knees, and crouching before him who had made him crawl in the dust, kissed the blood-stained hand of Buonaparté for leave to keep his Britannic majesty's foreign dominions, the electorate of Hanover, which he had snatched hold of while at peace with England. So the emperor Alexander, after he had also undergone the like previous ceremony, did not disdain to lick up the crumbs which fell from the table of his more successful rival in usurpation. Little, it was true, was left by the edge of Buonaparté's appetite; but, rather than have nothing,—rather than desert the true Russian principle of getting something on every occasion, either in Europe, or in Asia,

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(and of late years they had even laid claim to an almost indefinite naval dominion in America)—rather than forego the Calmuck policy, of always adding something, be it ever so little, to what was already acquired, be it ever so great—he condescended to receive from the hand of Buonaparté a few square leagues of territory, with an additional population of some two or three thousand serfs. The object was trifling indeed, but it served to keep alive the principle. The tender heart of the father, overflowing, as his imperial grandmother had phrased it, with the milk of human kindness for all his children, could not be satisfied without receiving a further addition to their numbers; and therefore it was not surprising, that on the very next occasion, he should be ready to seize, in more effectual exemplification of the principle, a share of the booty, large in proportion as his former one had been small. The emperor of Austria, too, who had entered before the others into the race for plunder, and had continued in it till the very end—he who, if not an accomplice with the Jacobins of France in the spoliation of Venice, was at least a receiver of the stolen property—a felony, of which it had been well said at the time in the House, that the receiver was as bad as the thief—that magnanimous prince, who, after twenty years alternation of truckling and vapouring—now the feeble enemy of Buonaparté, now his willing accomplice—constantly punished for his resistance, by the discipline invariably applied to those mighty princes, in the tenderest places, their capitals, from which they were successively driven—as constantly after punishment joining the persecutor, like the rest of them, in attacking and plundering his allies—had finished, by craving the honour of giving Buonaparté his favourite daughter in marriage. Nay, after the genius of Buonaparté had fallen under the still more powerful restlessness of his ambition—when the star of his destiny had waned, and the fortune of the allies was triumphant, through the roused energies of their gallant people, the severity of the elements, his own turbulent passions, and that without which the storms of popular ferment, and Russian winters, and his own ambition, would have raged in vain, the aid of English arms, and skill, and gallantry—strange to tell, these very men were the first to imitate that policy against which they had inveighed and struggled, and to
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carry it farther than the enemy in all its most detestable points. He maintained that it was so; for, not even by his bitterest slanderers had Buonaparté been ever accused of actions so attrocious as was the spoliation of Norway, the partition of Saxony, the transfer of Genoa, and the cession of Ragusa, perpetrated by those in whose mouths no sound had been heard for years, but that of lamentation over the attacks upon national independence. It was too much, after such deeds as these—it was too much, after the allies had submitted to a long course of crouching before Buonaparté, accompanied by every aggravation of disgrace—it was too much for them now to come forth and calumniate his memory, for transactions, in the benefits of which they had participated at the time as his accomplices, and the infamy of which they had since surpassed. He rejoiced that the Spaniards had only such men as these to contend with; he knew that there were fearful odds when battalions were arrayed against principles; but it was some consolation to reflect, that those embodied hosts were not aided by the merits of their chiefs, and that all the weight of character was happily on the contrary side. It gave him, however, some pain to find, that a monarch so enlightened as the king of France had shown himself on various occasions to be, should have yielded obedience, even for a time, to the arbitrary mandates of this tyrannical junto. He trusted, however, that it would only prove a temporary aberration, on his part, from the sounder principles on which he had hitherto acted. He trusted that the men who appeared to have acquired his confidence only to abuse it, would soon be dismissed from it; or, if not, that the voice of the country, whose interests they were ready to sacrifice, and whose rising liberties they seemed anxious to destroy, would compel them to pursue a more manly and more liberal policy. Indeed, the king of France had been persuaded, by the parasites by whom he was at present surrounded, to go even beyond the principles of the Holy Alliance. He had been persuaded to tell the world, that it was from the hands of a tyrant alone that a free people could hold a constitution. That accomplished prince—and all. Europe acknowledged him to be at once a most finished gentleman and most able scholar—could not but be aware that all the wise and good men of former times

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differed with him in opinion upon this point; and if he (Mr. B.) reminded him of a sentence which he had found in a recently recovered work, of one whose eloquence wan only to be surpassed by his wisdom, and whose skill as a statesman was only to be rivalled by his observation as a philosopher—if he reminded him of an opinion of Cicero, in direct variance with the doctrines which he had recently promulgated, it was in the sincere hope that he would consider it with all the attention that was due to such high authority. That great man had said, "Non in ulla civitate, nisi in quâ summa potestas populi est, ullum domicilium libertas habet." He recommended to his most catholic majesty to reflect, not only on the wisdom of so great a philosopher, but also on the experience of so great a statesman. He recommended him to consider, that he was one of the greatest statesmen of the old world—that, like himself, he lived in times of great danger and of great difliculty—that he had had to contend with the most formidable conspiracy to which the life and liberty of social man had ever been exposed—that, under such circumstances, he had recourse only to the Roman constitution—that he threw himself on the good will of his patriotic countrymen—that he only put forth the vigour of his own genius and the vigour of the law, and that he never thought of calling to his assistance the Allobroges, the Teutones, or the Scythians of his day, "and I now say," (continued Mr. Brougham), "that if the king of' France calls either on the modern Teutones or the modern Scythians to assist him in this unholy war, judgment will that moment go forth against him and his family, and the dynasty of Gaul will be changed at once and for ever."—The hon. and learned gentleman then asked, what were the grounds on which the necessity of this war was defended? It was said to be undertaken, because an insurrection had broken out with success at Madrid. He denied this to be the fact. What was called an insurrection, was an attempt to restore the lawful constitution of the country—a constitution which had been its established constitution, till Ferdinand overthrew it, by means of a mutiny in the army; and therefore, when a similar mutiny enabled the friends of liberty to recover what they had lost, it was an error in language to call such recovery by the name of insur-
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rection, and an abuse of terms, which could only be intended, to hoodwink the reason or conciliate the prejudices of the honest part of mankind. Let the pretext, however, for the war be what it might, the real cause of it, it was not hard to conjecture. It was not from hatred to Spain or Portugal, considered simply as Spain and Portugal, that the allied sovereigns were for marching their hordes into the peninsula—it was not against freedom on the Ebro, or freedom on the Mincio, that they were making war: no, it was against freedom in the abstract—it was against freedom wherever it was to be found—it was against freedom by whatever men it was possessed—it was against freedom by whatever checks it was secured, and by whatever safeguards it was guaranteed. Freedom was the object of their most inveterate hate; and against freedom they were ready to employ every species both of fraud and of force. They dreaded its institutions—they abhorred its spirit. All the benefits which it has conferred upon mankind, all the monuments which have been raised in its honour, all the miracles which have been effected by its influence, they hated with the malignity of demons, for they were compelled to fear and tremble at the very sound of its name. It was on this account that, disguise it as they might, they could feel no real friendship for the people of this country. As long as England remained the country that she was at present; as long as parliament formed a free and open tribunal, to which the oppressed of all nations under heaven could appeal against their oppressors, however mighty and however exalted—and with all its abuses (and no man could lament them more feelingly than he did), and with all its imperfections, (and no man could be more anxious to remove and amend them, because no man wished more heartily to make it worthy of the love and admiration of the country), it was still too free to please the taste of the continental despots—so long would England be the object of their hatred and machinations, sometimes carried on ill secret, sometimes carried on openly, but always carried on with the same unremitting vigour and activity. It was idle to suppose that these armed critics could be bounded in their views by any limits of time or of country. Could the House suppose, that if there were any portion of territory in the neighbourhood of the emperor Alex-

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ander which appeared peculiarly suited to his views, that he would not soon be able to discover some fault or flaw in its political institutions requiring his intervention—supposing it even to be a part of the Turkish government? Nay, if his imperial majesty were met, with his consistory of tyrants and armed critics, he believed that it would be in vain for the Ulemah, with all his tribe of learned muftis, to plead to him that their government was of the most sacred and venerable description—that it had antiquity in its favour—that it was in full possession of "the conservative principle of social order,"—that it was "replete with grand truths,"—that it had never listened to "the fatal doctrines of a disorganized philosophy," and that it had never been visited by any such things as "dreams of fallacious liberty" [immense cheering and laughter]—he believed that if the learned Ulemah were to argue the point just as if it was the holy Koran, still these "three gentlemen of Verona" would not turn away, in disgust, as he (Mr. B.) should do,—but would pry about for an avenue, by which to enter into the territory in question; and, if they could not find a way, would not be very scrupulous about making one; and the result, in one point of view, would be, that in three mouths from the time of deliberation, the emperor Alexander would be at Constantinople, or at Minorca—for he had long shown a desire to have some western provinces; and that Austria and Prussia would be invited to look for an indemnity in any thing that England, or the king of England, might have on the continent to suit them. The principles on which this band of congregated despots had shown their readiness to act, were dangerous in the extreme, not only to free states, for reasons which he had before explained, but also to the states over which the very members of this unholy junto presided. Resistance to them was a matter of duty; and the duty of this country was in consequence plain. It behoved us, however, to take care that we did not rush blindly into a war. An appeal to arms ought to be the last alternative we should try, but still it ought never to be so foreign to our thoughts as to be conceived impossible, or so foreign from our counsels as to take us unprepared. Already, if there was any force in language, or any validity in public engagements, were we committed by the
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defensive treaties into which we had entered. We were bound by various engagements to prevent Portugal from being overrun by a foreign enemy. If Spain were to be overrun by foreign invaders, what would be the situation of Portugal? Her frontiers on the side of Spain could scarcely be said to exist at present: there was no defence in them; they were a mere imaginary line, and had no existence except in the map of the geographer: her real frontiers were in the Pyrenees—her real defence was in their fastnesses; and whenever their passes were crossed, the same danger which threatened Spain would also threaten Portugal. If we were bound by the force of treaties, though we might not be bound to send an army of observation to watch the motions of the French army, we were at least bound to send a naval armament to Portugal, in order that we might have the earliest information of what was occurring there, and might be ready at any moment to give assistance to our ancient ally. Above all things, we ought to repeal, without delay, the Foreign Enlistment bill—a measure which, in his opinion, we ought never to have enacted. He would not, however, look back to measures, on the propriety of which all of them might not agree; but he would look forward, in order to avoid all subject of vituperation; reserving his blame for the foreigners whose tyrannical conduct obliged this nation to hate them, and his co-operation for whatever faithful servant of the crown, would, in the performance of his duty to his country, to freedom and to the world, speak a language that was truly British—pursue a policy that was truly free—and look to free states as our best and most natural allies against all enemies whatsoever; quarrelling with none, whatsoever might be the form of their government;—keeping peace wherever we could, but not leaving ourselves unprepared for war;—not afraid of the issue, but calmly resolved to brave it at all hazards;—determined, at the same time, to support, amid every sacrifice, the honour and dignity of the crown, the independence of the country, and every principle that was considered most valuable and sacred amongst civilized nations.—The hon. and learned gentleman sat down, amidst loud cheers from all parts of the House.
Sir Francis Burdettrose, but the cheering which followed Mr. Brougham's speech, rendered the commencement of

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the hon. baronet's observations completely inaudible. When we first heard him, he was observing that he rose to make his acknowledgments to the hon. and learned gentleman, for a speech as able as ever he had heard delivered, or as he believed ever had been delivered within the walls of parliament—a speech that went fully to support those principles on which the honour and interest of England, and he might also add, of Europe, materially depended, and which, if acted up to, would enable government to perform with spirit, efficiency, and promptitude, the part from which they ought not to shrink, under any circumstances. He would put aside, for the present, all considerations of agricultural distress, all questions of mere temporary interest, and would come forward for the single purpose of maintaining those valuable principles, on which the independence and happiness of nations must ever rest. He rose for the purpose of saying of the hon. and learned gentleman, that which had been previously said of a great and worthy man—"Nil non laudandum, aut sensit ant dixit." He was unable to pay the tribute which he felt to be due to the wisdom, to the virtue, to the patriotism, and to the force of reasoning, which the hon. and learned gentleman had that night displayed. Sure he was, that there was no English heart that would not feel what he had that night done to avert from the civilized world the greatest danger which had threatened it for many years. He also had received great pleasure from the manly and ingenious speech of the hon. gentleman who had that day moved the Address; and he trusted that the House would come to an unanimous vote upon it. In conclusion, he informed ministers, that if they acted up to the principles laid down by the hon. and learned gentleman that evening, the despots of the continent would, in case things came to the worst, witness that which they had riot witnessed for a number of years; namely, the opposition of a united parliament and a united people.
Mr. Secretary Peelexpressed his satisfaction, that there was such a desire in the House to concur with the sentiments contained in the Speech from the throne, and also with the sentiments which it was proposed to embody in the Address in answer thereto. After complimenting the hon. mover and seconder for the ability they had displayed, he proceeded to state,
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that as the hon. and learned gentleman, and also the hon. baronet who had followed him, had confined their observations to one point, he thought he should best consult the feelings of the House, by postponing any remarks which he had to make upon other matters to a future opportunity. There had, however, been some observations made of such immense importance, that he should be guilty of a dereliction of duty, if he allowed them to pass entirely unnoticed. The greater part of the speech of the hon. and learned member for Winchelsea, related to the policy, not of this country, but of the allied sovereigns. With regard to our own conduct, a time would come when a full explanation would be given of it; and he was sanguine enough to hope, that that explanation would be satisfactory to all parties. His majesty had repeated his determination to adhere to the principles which this government had laid down, first in 1793, and subsequently in 1821, respecting the right of one nation to interfere in the concerns of another. He conceived those principles to be, that every state was sovereign and independent, and was the only judge of the reforms and modifications which were necessary in its government; that, whatever course it might pursue in its internal concerns, of that course it was the sole and only judge; and that every other doctrine was as subversive of national independence, as the attempt of one individual to force upon another any specific line of conduct would be subversive of individual independence. The rights of states, however, like those of individuals, were subject to the interference of other states, if the exercise of them tended to the general injury. That injury, however, ought not to be of an imaginary or speculative kind—it ought to be of a nature clear to the feelings and palpable to the sight of every man; and of the necessity of making such an interference, each state, for the reasons he had before mentioned, ought to be the chief judge. With regard to the affairs of Spain, he could only observe, that as far as we were concerned, there was nothing in her present institutions that could warrant our interference with them. He trusted, however, that Spain would admit some changes in what was called the Spanish constitution; because he believed that such changes would tend to the advancement of her best interests, and the promotion of her best rights. It was his opinion,

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that it was not only an act of justice, but also an act of duty, for one friendly state to represent to another, the expediency of such changes; but, in making that statement, he by no means intended to say, that, the grounds stated by the king of France for interfering in the affairs of Spain were such as warranted his interference; on the contrary, he meant to say, that he thought them not adequate. It was clear, that those who opposed the principle on which he interfered, could not approve of the mode of his interference. Still he thought, that the House ought to cherish the hope of peace; for no man could doubt what the real interest of England was, under the present circumstances. If he spoke with reserve of the line of policy which England was likely to follow, it was because he still indulged a hope that peace would be preserved; and if it was not, he still thought that every man would be satisfied that every effort, consistent with the independence of the country, would be made for its preservation. In the speech of the king of France, war was not stated to be certain. The expression was, "if war be inevitable." The hon. and learned gentleman said, that the condition attached to that "if" rendered it so; for it was "unless Ferdinand VII. be free to give his people institutions." Now, it appeared to him, that two meanings might be attributed to those expressions; and it was only fair to give France the benefit of them. They might mean that no institutions would be considered legitimate, unless they were derived from a king in the full possession of absolute power, at liberty to give, and absolutely giving them, with his own free will, to the mass of his subjects. Now, if this were the meaning of the words, they contained doctrines to which no Englishman could agree, even for a moment. Personal freedom, freedom from restraint, was absolutely necessary on the part of the monarch. Whatever construction the terms of the speech of the king of France might bear, he (Mr. P.) was anxious that it should not he misconstrued. As an Englishman, he should undoubtedly say, that the king of France had no sufficient authority to interfere: as a Spaniard, he should of course contend, the same; but, if he were a Frenchman, he could not at all tell in what view the question might present itself. He did not lay it down, that the principle adopted by France
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warranted her interference as a foreign power, in the internal affairs of Spain as an independent kingdom. Great Britain was, therefore, no party to any proceedings, direct or indirect, at Verona, that had this object. He was confident, that the House would excuse him from entering into further details, both on account of the absence of his right hon. friend, who presided over this department of the affairs of the state; and because, while, as he had before said, there was a chance of maintaining peace—while there was a hope that the irritation unfortunately subsisting might be allayed—he should repent, to the last moment of his life, if he dropped a single word by which that chance could be lessened. The rooted conviction of his mind was, that it was the policy of Europe that peace, general peace, should be preserved. After the devastation of the late thirty years war, subjects and sovereigns ought to have an opportunity of directing their attention to internal affairs. A war must now be injurious to Europe at large; but especially to this country. Our great object ought to be, at such a moment, to maintain a strict neutrality. Undoubtedly, it was not for Great Britain to rejoice in the deterioration of other states. On the contrary, instead of viewing the growing prosperity of neighbouring kingdoms with jealousy or alarm, she had opened her eves to a more liberal and just doctrine: she found that her interests were not incompatible with theirs, and that their increasing consumption gave to her an increasing demand. The most dignified position she could assume was that of a mediator, not between contending (for they were not yet contending), but between angry parties. The highest duty she could discharge was, to the utmost of her power, to prevent the commencement of a new war, the termination of which no man could foresee. He could not avoid expressing his regret, that the hon. and learned gentleman, in the heat of argument, had been betrayed into the use of too strong expressions with respect to powers, the allies of this country. As our allies, we might protest against any principle of their policy; but, in stating our feelings regarding their personal character, caution ought to be observed, and certainly opinions ought not to be expressed which, he believed, were without foundation. It ought not to be forgotten, that those whom the hon. and

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learned gentleman had arraigned with such sarcastic severity, had joined with us, by a common effort, to repel a common danger. When, too, the hon. and learned gentleman spoke of that "great and resplendent character" Bnonaparté, he confessed he had heard him with regret. Let him remember the exertions we had made with our allies against the atrocious violence of that individual. When the hon. and learned gentleman was speaking of Spain—when he was reprobating so strongly the interference of foreign powers—it was strange indeed that he should call that man "a great and resplendent character," who, with regard to Spain, had notoriously been guilty of the basest duplicity. Had the hon. and learned gentleman forgotten, while attempting to fasten on our allies all the crimes to which he had adverted, that the individual he had so panegyrised had been guilty of every one of them? Had he forgotten that he had broken all promises, disregarded all treaties, murdered princes, and subjected independent states to the most unjust oppression? Above all, had he forgotten that this "great and resplendent character" had borne a most ferocious enmity towards this country, which had ultimately been the cause of his downfall? The hon. and learned gentleman had said, that the whole object of the congress of Verona was to take into consideration the affairs of Spain. He begged leave to remind him, that other great questions had also occupied its attention,—the affairs of Italy, the slave trade, and the subsisting relations between Russia and Turkey. The recent conduct of Russia towards Turkey proved the injustice of the accusation respecting the spirit of aggression by which she was animated. Nothing could now he more manifest than that the policy of Russia of late had been marked by the greatest forbearance, and a desire rather to avoid than to promote war. With respect to the interference of Austria in the affairs of Italy, a stipulation had been entered into for the withdrawing of her troops. In his opinion, the step taken by Austria, in the first instance, was clearly justifiable. But, whether it were or were not, the conduct of Great Britain, both in the cases of Naples and Spain, had been perfectly consistent. Her conduct had been regulated, in both instances, by the same principle. She had left it to Austria to
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determine on the propriety of interposition on the grounds she had assigned; and at least she had shown, that her object was what she had stated—not territorial aggrandizement, but to prevent danger to her own dominions. One purpose of the congress was to decide the time when the troops of Austria should be removed—The hon. and learned gentleman had directed but little of his attention to the internal affairs of this kingdom; no doubt reserving himself for some future occasion, when he would observe upon them more at large. The House must have heard with the utmost satisfaction, both that there would be a reduction in the estimates, for the service of the year, and that his majesty would be enabled, consistently with the maintenance of public credit, to recommend a further and a larger remission of taxation. Although, perhaps, rather irregular, he would now give notice, that it was the intention of the chancellor of the exchequer, after his return as a member, to take the earliest opportunity of entering into a general exposition of the financial state of the country, in order to explain to the House those details of reduction and remission of taxation, which he was satisfied would meet with the warmest approbation. It might not he anticipating too much to add, that a considerable part would apply to a diminution of the assessed taxes. He agreed, that it was most desirable to afford relief to the agricultural interest; but he did not concur in the notion, that that relief could be afforded by a remission of taxation. To the increasing prosperity of the manufacturing and commercial interests, he looked for the most material improvement. When so much new activity had been given to commerce—when such an increase had taken place in the manufacturing districts—it was impossible that ere long agriculture should not feel the benefit of the change, and in the end recover from its depression. As it was the wish of the House to come to a vote, he should abstain from further explanations, trusting that perfect unanimity would prevail.
Sir James Mackintoshsaid, it was not his intention at all adversely to meet and discuss the speech just delivered, as he applauded many of the just principles it contained, and commended the reserve which ministerial prudence dictated, as to the application of future measures adapted to particular circumstances. As

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to the incidental questions introduced by his hon. and learned friend, he could not observe upon them without occupying a larger portion of time than was at present desirable. He should, perhaps, have been contented to rest his opinion upon the excellent speech of the hon. mover of the Address, the principles it contained having been expressed in terms, such as neither he nor any man could improve. They had been further enforced by the eloquent, the irresistible speech, of his hon. and learned friend who had adverted, he would not say with sarcastic severity, but with sarcastic justice, to the conduct and character of those who claimed a monopoly of all civil and religious principles, and who, without scruple, felt themselves at liberty to violate those principles whenever it suited their convenience. He should not now have risen, after all that had been so well said, had he not been influenced by the generous appeal of the gallant officer to all members, to deliver their opinions on the state of Europe at the present critical and awful moment—at a moment when a war was about to be commenced subversive of the law of nations—subversive of all the rights of independent states—a war tending to involve all Europe in general hostility, and most especially affecting the security of his majesty's dominions, the honour of his crown, and the prosperity of his people. On one point only he differed from his hon. and learned friend; for he must deny that his most christian majesty had carried the principle of foreign interference beyond his allies at the congress of Verona. They had all laid down what had been called a monarchical principle. From the beginning of their alliance, or rather of their conspiracy, they had declared, that no institution could be good, or ought to exist, that did not flow from the will of the sovereign. This principle, which was avowed, contained in itself a declaration of war against the character of this country—against all its best and noblest institutions: it was a libel upon all the generations of our ancestors, a slander upon the very title to the crown. It declared, that those who secured and established British liberty were conspirators against the holy rights of kings: that George IV. himself was a usurper, and king William only the chief of a lawless banditti. It proclaimed as traitors those who had extorted Magna Charta from a
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tyrant, rendered the privileges of the House a mere assumption, and the occupation of the throne of these realms a violation of that great, just, profound, liberal, and enlightened monarchical principle which was to be applied to the affairs of Spain. He was sorry to hear such potentates called the allies of Great Britain: he could not conceive how any alliance could subsist between the government which advised the royal Speech of to-day, and those who held doctrines destructive of the hitherto acknowledged law of nations, and inconsistent with the rights of every state of civilized Europe. On this monarchical principle, war was to be declared against Spain; and it was contended, that three or four great states of Europe might combine to put down all amended institutions, not flowing from the mere will of the sovereign, and to make war upon a free people, because it thought fit, in the height of its arrogance, to frame its own constitution, without first consulting the combined wisdom of the crowned heads of the north. Let it be remembered too, that this war was to be declared without a pretence of danger to the dominions of any one of these great dictators of mankind. Governments adopting such a principle were, in point of fact and justice, at war with all independent states: they were the enemies of all who did not choose to submit to any yoke they thought tit to impose; and it then became only a question of policy and prudence with independent states, what time they would choose for asserting their rights, in defiance of a band of haughty and overbearing conspirators against the liberties of the world. He was sorry not to see the hon. member for Bossiny in his place, who, on a former occasion, spoke upon this subject with a degree of force and zeal which could not be forgotten, when he alluded to the overt acts of hostility by the sovereigns against the freedom of mankind at large, and compared them with the effects of the decree of the Convention of 1792, which had been held the grand authority for the resistance of other nations to the proceedings of France. The hon. gentleman had then applied this doctrine to the case of Naples. In reference to what had just been said, he must tell the right hon. secretary, that he was inconsistent in approving of the aggression of Austria in the case of Naples, and disapproving of the present interference of France, in the affairs of Spain. It was

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a mistake to suppose that Austria had rested her justification on the ground of danger from vicinage. She had claimed the right of overrunning Naples as one of the lords paramount of Europe; because Austria saw Naples adopting institutions which were at variance with the system she chose her to possess. In proof of this, he referred the right hon. secretary to the declaration of the sovereigns, who proclaimed in terms, that they would "strike rebellion wherever they could reach it;" and, if they then confined themselves to Naples and Piedmont, it was only because they could reach no further. It was not then their intention, as they professed, to march any troops into what, in the new Muscovite geography, was called "the western territory of Europe," those obscure and semi-barbarous realms of France and Spain. It was not, however, through moderation, abstinence, or mercy, that they did not pour their hordes of Calmucs and Croats into those kingdoms, to subdue and civilize them to northern notions of liberty and happiness. They adjourned this beneficent project for two years, and allowed Spain and Portugal the privilege of being the last to be devoured. The king of France had now adopted that principle; and on that principle he was about to carry on the war against Spain. He, like Austria, complained of no danger from juxtaposition: he did not condescend to pay the public the compliment of conjuring up some imaginary peril, as an excuse for his aggression. According to his speech, the only object of his hostility was to enable the sovereign of Spain to give his people such institutions as he thought best for them. The ultra royalists of France of late had been very fond of reminding Europe of Louis XIV., and of saying, that the work which he had begun was now to be completed; in fact, that the object of the war, under the pretence of preserving social order, was to finish the subjugation of Spain, which that monarch had contemplated. He trusted that the House would hear with due reverence, and that Europe would mark with becoming attention, the dying words of William III., in his last speech from the throne, in which he exposed clearly the designs of Louis XIV. The significant threats of that ambitious king were at this moment revived by his restored successor, who was about to attempt to imitate the example o his ancestor, the oppressor of Europe,
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whose whole life had been devoted to the establishment of the principle of universal monarchy. The words of king William were delivered within two months of his death: they related to Spain and her relations with this country, and might be looked upon as almost prophetic of the situation in which Great Britain was now placed. They were these: "By the French king's placing his grandson on the throne of Spain, he is in a condition to oppress the rest of Europe, unless speedy and effectual measures be taken. Under this pretence, he is become the real master of the whole Spanish monarchy; he has made it to be entirely depending on France, and disposes of it as of his own dominions; and by that means he has surrounded his neighbours in such a manner, that, though the name of peace may be said to continue, yet they are put to the expense and inconveniences of war. This must affect England in the nearest and most sensible manner in respect to our trade, which will soon become precarious in all the variable branches of it; in respect to our peace and safety at home, which we cannot hope should long continue; and in respect to that part which England ought to take in the preservation of the liberty of Europe." Thus it appeared that king William placed above all other considerations and interests the glorious duty peculiarly incumbent upon this nation, of preserving the liberty of Europe. If he were asked for more, he would request the House to call to mind the unanimous address of both Houses not long after the death of king William. It should be borne in mind, that the dissolution of the parliament before that by which the address was voted, was resolved upon in 1707, for the purpose of more clearly ascertaining the sentiments of the people of England, as to the propriety of endeavouring to rescue Spain from France. The representatives, therefore, came directly fresh from their constituents, and they enabled the successor of king William to complete that alliance which might have effected the deliverance of Europe. Yet, in our day, the authority of Louis XIV., the common enemy and oppressor of Europe, was cited in favour of a successor of the house of Bourbon—restored for his.lmoderation—replaced upon his throne on account of his pacific character, so well calculated to repress the military spirit and love of aggrandizement prevalent in his newly

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recovered kingdom. That successor seemed now resolved to make a perilous experiment, to ascertain whether he could not accomplish by conquest what was yet incomplete, by indulging that military spirit and love of aggrandizement which he was reinstated for the purpose of repressing. The unanimous address of both Houses to which he had referred, contained the following expressions:—"Your majesty is pleased to give us warning of the danger of being so far deluded as to depend again on the faith of treaties with an enemy, who has never yet had any other regard to them, than as they served the purposes of his interest and ambition; and to inform us, that no peace can be lasting, safe, and honourable, till the Spanish monarchy be fixed in the house of Austria, and France reduced to such a degree, that the balance of power in Europe be again restored. We humbly concur with your majesty in these your wise and noble sentiments. And we faithfully promise, that no dangers shall deter us, nor any artifices divert us, from doing all that is in our power to assist your majesty in carrying on the war, till you shall be enabled to procure such a peace for Europe." Did he say, that this recommendation was now to be complied with to the letter? Certainly not: experience, from the peace of Utrecht to the family compact, was against it: but, as soon as the family compact was concluded, the very evil foreseen by king William was revived, and, for all military purposes, Spain became a province to France. The only temperament the case admitted—the only event that could possibly check the absolute power of France, through a prince of the house of Bourbon, was the establishment of a national legislature. The application of the word "legitimate" was not confined, as the emperor of Russia and his coadjutors confined it, to sovereigns; for in 1812, the late lord Londonderry stated it as a sine qua non, that the authority of Ferdinand VII. and of the cortes, the legitimate government of Spain (Ferdinand being at that time a prisoner at Valencey, and all the powers of sovereignty being vested in the cortes) should be acknowledged. All Europe, excepting Buonaparté, had acknowledged the legitimate government of the cortes in 1812. And did not the events of 1820 restore it? Without dwelling longer on this point, he should content himself with stating, that, for his
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own part, he considered the meditated aggression by France against Spain and Portugal, in a geographical, military, national, and every other sense, upon the principle promulgated by the king of France, as the most unrighteous, unprovoked, wanton, lawless, and flagitious attack ever made by one state upon the liberties of another. The people of Spain had shown the most magnanimous forbearance. He prayed to God that they might continue a line of conduct that reflected so much honour on their national character; and he hoped that they would not be betrayed into excesses, which would only serve the cause of their bitterest enemies. Upon this subject he felt the strongest interest. He looked upon the deliverance of Spain as the noblest monument of British valour, and he saw that the object of this ungenerous invasion was to rob this country, if possible, of the laurels of Talavera, Vittoria, and Salamanca. It was an attempt, on the part of France, to steal from Great Britain the triumph which the one had gloriously gained, and the other ignobly lost. It was an attack upon the honour and character of this country. He knew, and was ever ready to acknowledge, that in the late war much was to be attributed to the invincible spirit and noble courage of Spaniards; but he knew also, that no nation had contributed more than Great Britain to their happiness and independence. He felt strongly and he spoke strongly; he sought for no qualification of his language, no retreat from responsibility. He had embarked his powers and his heart in the cause of Spain; it was his most ardent hope that the people might triumph over the detestable combination against their liberties; but, whatever might be the fate or fortune of their arms, he should never regret the part he had taken, the sentiments he laid expressed. Bitter, indeed, would be his grief, if he saw this fine, this brave, this generous nation compelled to submit to the haughty dictation of a conqueror; for, in the history of the world, there never was a holier struggle against a more degrading tyranny. On the one side, was all that was dear to man, his best rights, his noblest privileges; on the other, all that was unjust, detestable, and flagitious. In what he had said, he believed he had spoken the undivided sentiments of the whole people of Great Britain: from one end of the kingdom to

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the other, all impartial men felt alike—sympathy for Spain, disgust at her conspiring enemies. As his hon. and learned friend had already remarked, there was scarcely an enlightened individual in all Europe, out of the councils of these self-elected arbiters of the fate of millions, who did not join hand and heart in the resistance the Spaniards were prepared to make. His hon. and learned friend had already made a beautiful quotation from a fragment of a recently recovered tract by Cicero; and he (Sir J. M.) would refer the House to another passage from the same author, most admirably adapted to a situation like that he had been contemplating, in which Scipio African us was made to draw a happy distinction between the condition of a people "qui sub lege est et sub justo domino," and of a people exposed to all the miseries of a cruel tyranny. Yet such were the sentiments which an aristocratical writer of the Roman republic put into the mouth of the leader of the senatorial party, during the sedition of the Gracchi, when passions were most inflamed, and life was exposed to the fury of the plebeian faction. He should conclude by repeating his regret at hearing powers entertaining the projects attributed to them, nay, which they had avowed and boasted, called the allies of England. Having over-run Naples and Piedmont, they were merciful enough to give a respite of two years to Spain: they might still, perhaps, give a further respite to Portugal, in order to lull that nation into security, and to deter them from aiding their ancient and near ally; but, by parity of reasoning, Portugal must be invaded, because she had followed the example of England in obtaining a charter of their rights. All eyes must see that the three powers of the north, by withdrawing their ministers from Madrid, and by their declarations, had made themselves parties to the war, and were ready to pour their myriads into "the western territory of Europe," should the troops of Louis XVIII. be unsuccessful, or should discontents break out in the interior of France. It was high time, therefore, for all men to contemplate the importance of the crisis, and to be prepared to see a Muscovite army lining the shores of the continent, from Amsterdam to Cadiz.
Mr. Denmansaid, that if peace come be maintained, consistently with the honour and security of the country, in God's name let it be preserved; but if
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not, though it was enough to break the heart of any man to reflect that the horrors and calamities of war were likely to be renewed, we had but one course left—that of manly and unanimous exertion. They had been assured, in the Speech from the throne, that his majesty's government had declined to interfere with Spain; but he could have wished for further assurances, that they had solemnly protested against the conduct of the allied powers, and that every effort, remonstrance, and threat, had been used to deter France from issuing that manifesto, the import of which it was impossible for any ingenuity to misconstrue. Could the intentions of the French government be doubted, when they declared they had 100,000 men ready to take the field? He was unwilling to enter into any topic which might provoke discussion; yet he could not help thinking that the House ought to be informed under what instructions his majesty's plenipotentiary had acted at Verona. What countenance could that plenipotentiary have assumed, when he was told that the allied powers were about to over-run Spain, because the Spaniards had extorted from their monarch those institutions which could only be obtained by extortion? He could not help thinking that such remonstrances ought to have been made as would have prevented the appearance of that disgusting speech which had issued from the mouth of the king of France. If the congress had, in fact, been the scene of remonstrance on the part of England, the aggression of France against Spain, in the teeth of that remonstrance, was of itself an act of hostility against England. He hoped that war might be averted; but he did not wish to see it averted at the expense of those principles upon which the happiness and security of the country depended. This was the single question which ought now to occupy their attention. He hoped the opinion of that House would be unanimously expressed. The details of those measures which public economy required, and all the facts connected with the severe sufferings of a most important body in the community, must all come before that House; but he wished it to go forth to the world, that the British house of parliament, on the first day of its meeting, was ready to go all lengths for the maintenance of the rights of their country, threatened in the person of its nearest and

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best ally. It was not to be, forgotten, that the language of the French speech had been used by the emperor of Russia in 1820:—"institutions for the people ought only to emanate from the crown:" in other words, the crown was to allow its subjects only just as much liberty as suited its arbitrary dogmas. The allied monarchs, therefore, at least, deserved credit for consistency. They had over-run the fertile plains of Naples, and on the same principle they were preparing to tame down the haughty pride of Spain. He remembered having said long since, though rebuked for it at the time, that if the war in Italy had lasted long enough for the Russian army to march down from the north, Spain would have been the next object of attack. The allies had availed themselves of the earliest opportunity of invading. Spain, and we could not shut our eyes to the fact, that Great Britain was in principle at this moment involved in the struggle. The whole people of this country must feel that there was but one side to this question. The least faltering at this momentous juncture might be fatal. The effect of any hesitation on our part might be most injurious to the interests of Spain. Let the House look narrowly to the present proceeding. The question which the continental powers now put to Spain, they would next put to England. It had been said again and again, that if the war did break out, England would, somehow or other, be dragged into it. Then, if the country was to go to war, let it go to war for some purpose. Let it now shun the contest at the expense of sacrificing its allies, and afterwards strike for some trivial point of form—some breach of diplomatic arrangement or decorum. If England must go to war, let her choose her own time. Let government speak out upon the present crisis, and be ready to back its honest remonstrance with the power of this great and free country. In such a cause, there was no sacrifice which the country would not be prepared to make; and as the course he recommended was the just, so, eventually, it would be found to be the economical one. He thought that the rebuke his honourable and learned friend had received for calling a great man now no more a "great and resplendent character," might well have been spared, when the conduct of the present ruling powers was looked at—men who, without the excuse of the warlike motives, if he might so ex-
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press himself, which had seemed to impel that individual, out stepped his injustice, upon a cold blooded calculation of their strength. Let France recollect her own struggles for independence; let her recollect the declaration in which, at the commencement of those struggles, she had offered assistance to all nations willing to follow her example. He should say no more, than that he much regretted he was not enabled to thank the crown for more active efforts to avert the crisis which the conduct of our allies threatened to bring upon us.
The Address was then agreed to, nem. con.

THE KING'S SPEECH ON OPENING THE SESSION.
This day the Session was opened by Commission. The Commissioners were, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord Chancellor, and the Earls of Harrow by, Westmorland, and Shaftesbury. The usher of the black rod having been ordered to require the attendance of the House of Commons, he withdrew. The Speaker, accompanied by several members, having appeared at the bar, the Lord Chancellor opened the Session with the following Speech to both Houses:—
"My Lords and Gentlemen;
"We are commanded by his majesty to inform you, that since he has met you in parliament, his majesty's efforts have been unremittingly exerted to preserve the peace of Europe.
"Faithful to the principles which his majesty has promulgated to the world as constituting the rule of his conduct, his majesty declined being party to any proceedings at Verona, which could be deemed an interference in the internal concerns of Spain, on the part of Foreign Powers; and his majesty has since used, and continues to use his most anxious endeavours and good offices to allay the irritation unhappily subsisting between the French and Spanish governments, and to avert, if possible, the calamity of war between France and Spain.
"In the east of Europe, his majesty flatters himself that peace will be preserved; and his majesty continues to receive from his Allies, and generally from other powers, assurances of their unaltered disposition to cultivate with his majesty those friendly relations which it is equally his majesty's object on his part to maintain.
"We are further commanded to apprize you, that discussions having been long pending with the court of Madrid respecting depredations committed on the commerce of his majesty's subjects in the West-Indian seas, and other grievances of which his majesty had been under the necessity of complaining, those discussions have terminated in an admission by the Spanish government of the justice of his majesty's complaints, and in an engagement for satisfactory reparation.
"We are commanded to assure you, that his majesty has not been unmindful of the addresses presented to him by the two Houses of Parliament with respect to the foreign slave trade. Propositions for the more effectual suppression of that evil were brought forward by his majesty's plenipotentiary in the conferences at Verona; and there have been added to the treaties upon this subject already concluded between his majesty and the governments of Spain and the Netherlands, articles which will extend the operation of those treaties, and greatly facilitate their execution.
"Gentlemen of the House of Commons;
"His majesty has directed the estimates of the current year to be laid before you. They have been framed with every attention to economy; and the total expenditure will be found to be materially below that of last year.
"This diminution of charge, combined with the progressive improvement of the revenue, has produced a surplus exceeding his majesty's expectation; his majesty trusts, therefore, that you will be able, after providing for the services of the year, and without affecting public credit, to make a further considerable reduction in the burthens of his people.
"My Lords and Gentlemen;
"His majesty has commanded us to state to you, that the manifestations of loyalty and attachment to his person and government, which his majesty received in his late visit to Scotland, have made the deepest impression on his heart.
"The provisions which you made in the last session of parliament for the relief of the distresses in considerable districts in Ireland, has been productive of the happiest effects; and his majesty recommends to your consideration, such measures of internal regulation as may be calculated to promote and secure the tranquillity of that country, and to improve the habits and condition of the people.
"Deeply as his majesty regrets the continued depression of the agricultural interest, the satisfaction with which his majesty contemplates the increasing activity which pervades the manufacturing districts, and the flourishing condition of our commerce in most of its principal branches, is greatly enhanced by the confident persuasion, that the progressive prosperity of so many of the interests of the country cannot fail to contribute to the gradual improvement of that great interest which is the most important of them all."
The Commons then withdrew. After which, the Speech being again read by the Lord Chancellor, and also by the clerk at the table,
The Earl of Morleyrose. He said, that although the day was past, when their lordships for so many years, upon occasions similar to the present, were in the habit of hearing of the conflicts of fleets and armies, and of the rise and downfall of particular states, yet it might perhaps nevertheless be stated, that upon no occasion did the sovereign of these realms ever address to parliament, a speech more fraught with interesting matter, more pregnant with topics eventually bearing upon the future happiness of mankind, more declaratory of principles and sentiments dear to the hearts of Englishmen, than that which his majesty had that day been graciously pleased to deliver by his commissioners to their lordships and the other House convened at their bar. In proposing for the adoption of their lordships an address to the throne, he should, as a matter of course, feel it to be his duty to expose those general grounds, on which each paragraph in the address might be considered as founded, and as entitled to their favourable attention. The convulsions by which Europe had been agitated, during the last ten years of the past century, and the first fifteen years of the present, and the struggles to which those convulsions gave rise, could not but be fully impressed upon their minds. Whatever difference of' opinion might have existed as to the territorial arrangements and general provisions of the treaties, by which, in 1815, those contests were finally closed, no difference had ever existed as to the fitness of abiding by them; of henceforth, in common with the rest of Europe, looking upon peace as the system to be adhered to; and of abstaining from all proceedings calculated, directly or indirectly, to disturb that state of repose, which exertions beyond all parallel had rendered essential to the general welfare. It could not therefore have been without the deepest regret, and he might add astonishment, that they had this day heard that, his most christian majesty had considered the state of affairs existing in Spain, as demanding the armed interference of France. He would not enter upon the principles upon which the present constitution of Spain was founded, nor upon the events of the 7th of July, nor upon the personal conduct of his catholic majesty since his restoration to his throne (a point which, if it was fit to enter into a detail of Spanish affairs; could not be passed, over), nor upon, the

5
language held in the democratic clubs of Madrid, nor generally upon the situation of Spain; still less could there be any necessity for his attempting to expound the subtile and difficult question of the right which one state may possess, to interfere (by force of arms), in the internal concerns of another. In the statement of this question, facts and opinions were often confounded, and groundless apprehensions frequently held the place of both. As far as matters of such nicety could be rendered clear, such principles had been laid down and promulgated to the world in the circular letter sent by this government, to all the different ministers in Europe. His noble friend at the head of his majesty's treasury had last year taken a forcible distinction between the right of foreign interference which might exist in different cases, and especially noticed the difference existing in the cases of Naples and Spain. It was however clear, that all cases must claim, as they arose, their own particular application of principles, and that all attempts to apply rules upon a supposed state of things could lead in practice to nothing but error. It was therefore not necessary to argue whether the king of France had or had not a right to interfere in the internal affairs of Spain, or whether be took a correct view of his own affairs in asserting that right at Verona, and preparing to exercise it at present. It was sufficient for the exposition of the British government to state, that at Verona his most christian majesty did prefer such claim, and was unequivocally supported in it by the three great continental sovereigns who were there assembled. His majesty's ministers did not only discourage the assertion of this right of interference on the part of France, but when asserted, they did not admit its existence. They were deeply impressed with the paramount and transcendant necessity of maintaining that which had ever been declared by the confederated sovereigns themselves to be the grand object of their alliance—the general tranquillity of Europe. Appeals to the policy and moderation of France were reiterated at Verona and at Paris. No pains bud been omitted, no efforts (short of those by which we ourselves might have instantly become principals in the war) had been neglected to impress upon France the certain present evil of war, in the existing circumstances of the world, and more especially
6
the calamities which might result to France herself from a contest undertaken for the object in view, and under circumstances similar to those very peculiar ones which now applied to France. Certainly, it could not be for this country, and, above all, in the present century, to be insensible to the imminent hazard which must be incurred by any foreign army entering in a hostile manner into that part of the Peninsula. The peculiar and efficient mode adopted for the defence of their country by the great mass of the Spanish population, could only have become known to Europe for the purpose of being forgotten, if it could for a moment be thought, that the entrance into Spain by a foreign army did not, upon that army, induce hazards of the most serious character—
"quæ vos fortuna quietos "Solicitat, suadetque experta lacessere bella."
It was not, however, from any idea of the peril of the enterprize, that his majesty's government receded. In their view no necessity for foreign interference existed: in their view, by such interference, the first of blessings and of wants, the peace of Europe, was instantly interrupted, and to be restored at a period which no man could foresee. Notwithstanding the anarchical and disorganizing principles on which the government of France had been founded in 1793, and its direct interference in the internal affairs of other states, by the official and ever-memorable invitation to the disaffected in all countries against their rulers, the government of this country never did, upon any occasion, avow the principle of interference in the internal affairs of France as such; so disinclined was the English government at all times to bring discredit upon that valuable general maxim, that the conduct of all independent states, in what related to their own internal administration, belonged, of right, exclusively to themselves. Upon this principle his majesty's present servants had acted at Verona; upon this principle they had acted and were still acting at Paris; upon this principle they claimed the confidence of their lordships and the approbation of the public. France, however, appeared about to enter upon the contest. If she did so (for fortunately the extremity of war might still be considered as uncertain), Europe and posterity would know that she commences the war upon her own responsibility, and with all the

7
hazards and contingencies such as had been described. The exertions of his majesty, however, which could not have been otherwise than beneficial to the maintenance of peace, up to the present moment were still employed, and hope was not forbidden, that justice and true policy might eventually triumph.—Their lordships could not but approve the act of vigour which it was well known accompanied our latter remonstrances to the Spanish government, on the subject of depredations committed in the West Indian seas. It was certainly time, as well from regard to what was due to individual sufferers, as to the honour of the British flag itself, that effective measures should at length be adopted, to arrest proceedings so dishonourable and injurious. It was not to be imagined that this step was taken with any reference to the actual state of affairs in Spain, or from an idea that embarrassments in other quarters might more readily lead to an acquiescence in our just demand. Such was not the fact. The affair of the ship Lord Collin, wood had last year made a strong impression in this country; and he was empowered to state, that the reclamations addressed to the Spanish government upon this subject had become urgent before the assembly of the congress at Verona, and further, that the courier who brought to London the acquiescence of the Spanish government in our demands, brought, at the same time, a proposition which marked, in the strongest manner, the friendly and confiding feelings of Spain towards this country, and in so much her absolution from all imputation of unfair dealing in this transaction. If, adhering to that pacific system prescribed by the unquestionable interest of all nations, the king lamented the war which threatened the peninsula, he could not do otherwise than feel satisfaction that his efforts for the preservation of peace in the eastern part of Europe were likely to prove successful. No Christian country could be insensible to the sufferings of the Greeks, or to the ravages of a civil war, which extended itself from the shores of the Adriatic to those of the Euxine. This government had not omitted to impress upon the Porte the necessity of a line of conduct more consistent with the dictates of humanity. Now, however, that a little time for reflection had been accorded, he thought that no Englishman could
8
seriously have wished that a war should have been commenced for the amelioration of Turkey, or for securing a better administration of affairs, even to those regions to which are associated the fondest recollections of literature and of art, and to which all scholars and liberal statesmen must ever look with sentiments of affection and partiality.—Their lordships would be glad to hear that the parliamentary grants of last session for the relief of the distresses in Ireland, had answered their object. The extensive private subscription which accompanied those grants must, as a demonstration of English feeling, have had the effect of drawing still tighter the indissoluble bonds by which the two countries were united. Painful had been the discussions which, for many years past, had taken place on the subject of Ireland. Let them this day bail with joy his majesty's auspicious recommendation, to consider of such measures as should be calculated to promote the future tranquillity of that country, and permanently improve the condition of her people. Let them cherish the fond hope, that the work of substantial, practical, and gradual amelioration was about to be commenced. Let the real state of Ireland be probed to the bottom. Let every lurking grievance be exposed and remedied. Let the Irish proprietors, more especially, co-operate in the beneficial views of his majesty. Let such as are not prevented by public duty, repair to their native country, and by their presence, example, and counsel, assist in repairing the injuries which an unwise expatriation may have contributed to produce. He said nothing upon removing the civil incapacities under which a large portion of his majesty's Irish subjects laboured, being anxious to carry with him, upon the present occasion, not only the unanimous vote, but the unanimous feeling of the House.—After all the speculations which had been submitted to the public as to the cause of the severe calamity which had befallen that valuable class of the community, connected with the cultivation of the soil, he would not detain the House, at any length, with any views of his own: he might, however, say, that the prosperous state of agriculture, in 1818 and 1819, seemed to negative the opinion, that this calamity was produced by over cultivation, or (the peace having been

9
concluded several years) from government having ceased to come as large purchasers into the market. He would rather be disposed to attribute the evil to the large importation of foreign grain, in 1818 and 1819 (in consequence of which many thousand quarters of grain must now be in the country more than there otherwise would be) to three abundant harvests following that importation,—to the diminution of the circulation of country banks, in consequence of the change of the currency, and to the operation of the act of 1806, by which the Irish cultivator, who pays less tythe and no poor-rates, comes into the market on the same footing as the English grower. It might be very well to say, that England and Ireland being united, such ought to be the case; but under such generalities great injustice was frequently concealed. The king's speech did not hold out the expectation, that any particular mode of relief would be proposed on the part of government; nor, on the other hand, did it express any opinion that the united energies of government and parliament might not be able to devise measures to mitigate the evil: he hoped such might be the case: if on no other grounds, on this, that such has always been found to be the admirable machinery and workings of our laws, that no grievance has ever weighed long upon any particular class, without some measure of relief having been devised. It would be idle to suppose, that in the present crisis any mode of relief could be brought forward, to which not only plausible doubts, but even just objections, might not be raised. The usual course of our practice might be changed, the dicta of the economists might be violated, principles which, under ordinary circumstances, should be held sacred, might be suspended; but these, perhaps, may scarcely be called evils, with reference to that annihilation of property, which it was to be feared was making progress in different parts of the country. The obvious interest and duty of government must, of course, lead them to recommend any plan which afforded a chance of success, even at some compromise of principle. But if they were conscientiously satisfied, that no plan could operate relief, they should not excite expectations on the part of the public. No sovereign of the present family had, antecedently to the last year, ever visited that part of Great Britain
10
which lies to the northward of the Tweed. Having advertence to some peculiar circumstances relative to Scotland, and having ever in view, as a primary object, the uniting the hearts of all descriptions of his majesty's subjects, it would have been difficult to have devised a step more calculated to secure that object, than the visit which his majesty made last summer to his capital in Scotland;—of the general satisfaction and good order observable upon that occasion, he spoke before many who could confirm him as witnesses. Not only, however, was it in Scotland that loyalty and peaceable conduct had been manifest; throughout the kingdom might have been remarked an increased general tranquillity, and a comparative absence of that flagitious and seditious spirit by which unfortunately latter years have been characterized.—The House could not but feel gratified at the steps which had been taken for the abolition of the foreign slave trade: it was now 35 years since the nations of Africa had first to hail the name of Wilberforce: since that period great had been the efforts made by this country, in favour of this great, this christian object of general abolition. Some foreign governments might have been luke warm; some might not have given England credit for the sincerity and disinterestedness to which she was entitled. It was possible upon the assembling of the sovereigns at Verona, that his majesty's ministers might have submitted to them something more novel and attractive than the never-ending subject of the abolition of the slave trade. They, however, were not influenced by any such considerations. They knew what humanity dictated, and what the public voice of England desired; and they knew, unfortunately, that much yet remained to be achieved; and it therefore fell to the destiny of an illustrious duke, who had already contended for the freedom of one continent in the field, to contend at Verona for that of another in council, and by negociation. A recommendation to the maritime powers to declare all ships transporting slaves to be pirates, was, at the instance of the noble duke, sanctioned by the sovereigns, and, if adopted by them, the maritime powers would give a more effectual blow to this detestable and degrading traffic, than any antecedent measure had ever inflicted.—Upon the flourishing state of the revenue, and upon the gratifying pros-

11
pect of a further very considerable reduction in the taxes, and upon the prosperous situation of our trade and manufactures, he would dwell but shortly: these all offered separate and most important themes for congratulation. In the present situation of the country, it was impossible to rate too highly the value—the immensity of these advantages, virtually affecting, as they did, the resources of the empire and the prosperity of the people. With regard to trade, it was difficult not to see in the events now passing in the world, the probability of a greatly increased trade with South America; a country far exceeding the whole of Europe in extent and also in fertility, and occupying on the surface of the globe, a situation unparalleled for the commercial advantages which it appeared to unite. If he had compressed still further what he had to state, he should not have discharged his duty to the House,—to his majesty's ministers, or to the momentous subjects which had come under review. The situation of the country was in many respects one of anxiety;—the depression of the agricultural interests,—the anomalous state of Ireland,—the uncertainty of continental events were sources of watchfulness and solicitude. If, however, on the one hand, there were points on which the public anxiety must still be protracted, there were not wanting, on the other hand, topics of just pride, and of well-grounded hope. Let their lordships carry to the foot of the throne, the expressions of loyalty and attachment which it was always grateful to the princes of the house of Hanover to receive from that House. Let them with firmness support the king on the pinnacle of glory, on which, as with reference to the events of the late wars, he might most fairly be considered as standing. Let them, by their unanimity, strengthen the arm of his servants; and let them entertain a confident hope, that their vigilance, their moderation,—their love of England,—would conduct the country through every difficulty,—would surmount every thing which might appear inauspicious in its situation,—would turn to the largest account the many important advantages which now opened themselves,—and finally lay the basis for securing, for times to come, the internal happiness and external power,—to the enjoyment of which, this country in every view is so
12
justly entitled.—His lordship concluded by moving an address to his majesty, in the usual terms.
The Earl of Mayoseconded the Address, in a short speech, which was inaudible below the bar. His lordship expressed his great satisfaction, connected as he was with Ireland, at the manner in which that country had been noticed; and bore testimony to the good which had resulted from all that had been done of late in her behalf.
Earl Stanhopesaid:—My lords; I am aware, that on occasions like the present, unanimity is generally thought to be desirable; but there are circumstances in which all such considerations must give way, and in which it is consistent neither with your dignity nor your duty, that your Address should be nothing more than a servile echo of the Speech. If ever those circumstances existed, it is at the present moment, when the distress which afflicts the nation is universal and unexampled; when the necessity of administering relief is most urgent, and when that relief cannot he delayed without danger, nay, without destruction to the country. This is the third session of parliament which has been opened by a speech from the throne, acknowledging and lamenting the existence of distress; and this is also the third session in which you have been invited by the mover of the address, to express in your answer nothing more than general and unavailing regret. The address which has been moved gives no pledge for an inquiry, and no expectation of relief, and it is upon this ground that I intend to propose to your lordships an amendment. If, according to the theory of the noble earl who is at the head of the Treasury, we have been cursed with too much plenty; if we have been afflicted with too much abundance; perhaps the only remedy that could be found under such an unusual, nay, such an unheard of calamity, would be, to adopt the recommendation which has been so kindly and liberally offered by some persons who are connected with administration, and which has, I am sorry to say, been repeated in other quarters, and to discontinue the cultivation of those lands which are of inferior quality. I have no doubt that such advice would be very thankfully received in the county of Norfolk, acid in several others which consist exclusively of land of that description. The inhabitants

13
of those extensive and populous districts would learn with great satisfaction, that they would in future he relieved from the labour of cultivating the land, and would continue during the remainder of their lives, to be pensioners upon the poor-rates. Really, my lords, without intending to pay any compliment to that noble earl, I must, however, say, that I think too favourably of his understanding to suppose that be is serious in maintaining such a doctrine; and I am ready to believe, notwithstanding the gravity with which he generally delivers his opinions, that he meant nothing more than to make a sort of experiment on the credulity of your lordships, or what is vulgarly termed a "hoax." But if the noble earl is serious, I would ask, whether it is possible for the ingenuity of man to devise a severer satire upon his own administration? What! my lords, is such the state to which his course of policy has reduced this once happy and prosperous, but now miserable and mis-governed country? Is such the glory of his administration? Are such the achievements of which he can boast, that he has perverted even the course of nature itself, and converted into a calamity and a curse that bounty of Providence which formerly was hailed as a blessing? Can the noble earl state in what period of history, ancient or modern, any mention was made, or any hint was given, that abundance had been productive, I will not say of distress, but even of injury or inconvenience? That abundant harvests tend to lower prices, is indeed obvious; but, far from being the cause of distress, it was always found that the deficiency of the price was compensated, or more than compensated, by the increase of the consumption. If the noble earl will refer to the evidence before the agricultural committee, he will find that many witnesses denied the existence of such abundance as he has represented; and that they considered abundance to be beneficial to those who, cultivate, as it undoubtedly must be to those who consume. One of these witnesses, Mr. Iveson, who is a land agent, and a receiver of rents in many counties, says, very truly, "I cannot conceive abundance to be injurious to any body;" and such was the opinion entertained by all mankind till these new fangled doctrines were first promulgated. Does the noble earl suppose that any favourable seasons or abundant harvests could, by possibility, have had the effect
14
of lowering the price of corn fifty per cent in three years? Even if such could have been the case, would it also have lowered, in the same proportion, the price of cattle and of other agricultural produce? The argument does not, however, stop here; for, on referring to a document which comes from the town of which the noble earl bears the name, and is entitled "The Liverpool Price Currents," it is found, that in the same period of three years, several articles of commerce have fallen in price above 35 per rent. For example: on the four sorts of cotton which are there enumerated, the average depression of price has been above 41 per cent; on four sorts of silk, above 37 per cent; while sugar has fallen 31 per cent, and ruin 50 per cent. Your lordships see, that while the prices of agricultural produce have fallen 50 per cent, the prices of several articles of commerce have fallen above 35 per cent; and a similar depression is represented to have taken place in articles of manufacture. What, therefore, is the cause that all those articles have so much fallen in price, some of them being the produce and some the manufactures of this country, and some being imported from abroad? It cannot be contended, that all those articles have been produced at a smaller cost, or that upon all those articles there has been either an increased supply, or a diminished consumption; and, as the fall of prices does not proceed from those causes, it is, I maintain, a conclusive logical argument, that it must proceed from the only remaining cause; that is, from an alteration in the value of the money in which those articles are bought and sold. That such is and must be the case is proved also by the utter futility of all the other causes which have been alleged. Of one of those causes, that is, of excessive production, I have already spoken; and I need say nothing about another of those causes, that is, of excessive importation, because the noble earl has avowed his conviction, that it was not the cause of the present distress. As for another of those causes, I mean the transition from war to peace, it seems to be forgotten, that peace was not recently concluded; that we have been for above seven years in the enjoyment of that blessing, and that this country did, in the year 1818, exhibit symptoms of reviving prosperity, not indeed of such prosperity as existed in the year 1792, but of such a degree of pros-

15
perity as could have been experienced after a war of such extraordinary duration and of such excessive expense. That the present unexampled distress is the effect of the alteration of the currency, may be proved by the same clear and demonstrative evidence as a mathematical proposition; and your lordships will perceive, by the facts which are stated in the admirable pamphlet that has been recently published by Mr. Western, that while agricultural produce has fallen in price 50 per cent, and articles of commerce and manufactures above 35 per cent, there has been, upon the average of all of them, a depression of above 40 per cent. This shows to what amount the currency was depreciated in 1819; but I am ready to argue the question upon the assumption, which however I do not admit, that no depreciation existed, and I should arrive exactly at the same conclusion. It was represented in some quarters, when the bullion question was first considered by a committee, that bank notes were not depreciated, but that gold had risen in value in consequence of an extraordinary demand; and it is stated by Mr. Jacob, who was examined before the agricultural committee, that the supply of gold from the Spanish mines was, during the ten years which elapsed from 1811 to 1821, only one-third of what it had been in the ten years preceding. But if no depreciation of paper had existed, it is, however, equally true, that the contraction of the currency, which was requisite to render it convertible into gold, has been the cause of that most extraordinary fall of prices which we now witness. It was, I know, said by one of the witnesses before the Secret Committee, by Mr. Ricardo, that the depreciation of the currency was only four and a half per cent, and that the fall of prices would not exceed five per cent, and he endeavoured to prove the proposition, by comparing the mint price of gold with that which he called the market price of that period. The argument was most fallacious, and has been falsified by the event. Your lordships will recollect, that in 1819, there was no demand whatever for gold, neither for foreign subsidies nor for the supply of armies on the continent, both of which had required enormous remittances during the late war; and that there was no demand for it in foreign trade, as the exchanges were generally, and almost con-
16
stantly in favour of this country; and there was, in fact, very little, if any, demand for it, except by jewellers and goldsmiths. In considering the market price of gold as compared with the mint price, the question is not, what is the price which is paid for that inconsiderable quantity which is required by an insignificant demand, but what is the price which would be paid for an indefinite quantity, and for such a demand as the coinage would occasion? Upon this point, I have very recently conversed with a Bank director, of whom I asked this question:—"Supposing that government had inquired of the Bank of England, in 1819, at what price it would have agreed to furnish any quantity of gold that might have been wanted; would you, the Bank Directors, have named 4l. 2s. per ounce, which was then said to be the market price?" His answer was, "Undoubtedly we should have named a much higher price." Upon the erroneous principle of Mr. Ricardo, that measure was adopted which is known by the name of Mr. Peel's Bill, and for which no petition was presented from any part of the population. Some reasons have since been discovered for the measure, which were not stated at the time, and which appear to be after thoughts. It is now represented, that the measure was adopted for the relief of the suffering manufacturers. No person felt more sincerely than myself for the distress under which the manufacturers then laboured; and with a view of procuring for them relief, I submitted to this House a motion for the appointment of a committee to consider the means of providing them with employment. Your lordships know that it was the want of employment, and not the dearness of provisions, which was then the cause of their distress; but when, as might naturally be expected, they became discontented, and were clamorous in their complaints, parliament passed six acts of coercion and restraint. I have the happiness and honour of never having voted for those acts, one of which abridged in a manner which I most strongly reprobate, the ancient, constitutional, and invaluable right of holding popular assemblies. I deny that the distress of the manufacturers at that period proceeded from a high price of provisions; and I deny that the object of Mr. Peel's bill was stated to be that of lowering their price. I deny also that any practical relief could have been experienced, if the prices of provisions had been

17
reduced only five per cent, according to the expectation which some persons then entertained; that is, if the price of a quartern loaf, for example, had been reduced from tenpence to ninepence halfpenny. If it had been stated, that the object of Mr. Peel's bill was to lower the price of provisions 50 per cent, as we have found to be the case, I do not believe that it would have received such support as would have enabled it to pass into a law. The reasons which were then alleged for it, were the importance of establishing what was called a "wholesome currency;" of reverting to the "ancient standard;" and the other general arguments which we remember to have heard. Although the measure was pregnant with the most portentous consequences, and has been productive of the most calamitous effects, the inquiry seemed to have been conducted without a due consideration of that which was the essence of the question, of its operation upon the internal condition of the country. The principle of that measure, the object which it had in view, and the effect which it was intended to produce, were to diminish the quantity of the circulating medium, and thereby to increase its value. Such being the case, it followed as a necessary inference, that in justice to all parties, the amount of payments ought to have been diminished, in the same proportion as the value of the currency had been increased. It has been found that heavy payments are, in private transactions, incompatible with low prices; and it will, I believe, be found by government, that such prices are equally incompatible with high taxes. I am represented to have said that low prices were advantageous only to Jews and jobbers. Heaven forbid that I should ever have entertained or expressed such a preposterous doctrine! I said no such thing; I said that Jews and jobbers alone were prosperous at the present moment, and that the assertion of the country being in a state of general prosperity, was an unparalleled absurdity, which was worthy only of the Jews and jobbers from whom it proceeded. Far from wishing for high prices, I wish that prices should continue to be low; but. I wish also that taxes and all other payments should be proportionably low. Whence does it arise that low prices are ruinous and destructive now, when they were accompanied with great and general prosperity thirty years ago; or in the still more auspicious period of a
18
century ago? No other reason can be assigned than the difference which exists; in the amount of taxation, and in the private contracts that were formed in a depreciated, or at least in a very different currency. The landlords have been falsely represented as wishing for high rents, though they would gladly agree to be restored to the moderate rents which they received in 1792, provided that they could be replaced in the same situation with regard to the taxes and other payments, to which they were then subject. In some cases, no rent whatever is now received from land; and in other cases, the monstrous spectacle has been exhibited, of rent being paid by the landlord to the tenant. I am informed, by authority on which I can rely, that cases are known in Essex, where landlords have paid half-a-crown per acre to the tenants to induce them to continue the cultivation of the soil. This is an undeniable proof, that in some cases the whole produce of the land, after paving the expenses of cultivation, is consumed by taxation; and I consider as taxes, the poor-rates and other local assessments, which fall exclusively and most unjustly on the agricultural interest.—If we contemplate the effects which the change of currency has produced upon taxation, we find that the public annuitants now receive twice as much in the produce of the earth as they did in 1819, and nearly twice as much as they then did in other commodities. Is not this to be considered as a most nefarious fraud that has been practised on the nation, and as an act of public robbery? We hear much about public faith, but it did not, and could not pledge the nation to pay the public creditors twice as much as they ought to receive, and as they did receive three years ago. The reduction of the dividends, which is imperiously required by the safety of the country, is strictly conformable to justice, in consequence of the alteration of the currency in which they are paid. I wish that the question between the nation and its creditors could be argued as one between two private individuals, before my noble and learned friend upon the woolsack, whom I venerate as a most wise and learned, as well as a most honest and upright magistrate. His virtues and talents render him an ornament to this House and to the country, and even to the age in which we live. Though he is inclined, from those conscientious feelings, which are so honour

19
able to him, to pause and hesitate and doubt, I am convinced that upon such a question, he would have no hesitation or doubt whatever, and that he would decide upon the principles of equity, that if you increase by a legislative measure the value of the currency, you ought in the same proportion to diminish the amount of the payments, whether they are public or private. If ministers will not, however, diminish, and to a very considerable extent, the amount of taxes, it is to be expected that the taxes will reduce themselves; for the period may not be far distant, when the noble earl at the head of the Treasury, may be obliged to provide warehouses and magazines to lodge the corn and cattle, and implements of husbandry, which he may wrest by distress from an impoverished or ruined tenantry It is my firm conviction, that if the present system should be long continued, a national bankruptcy may be anticipated, and I would entreat your lordships to cast your eyes upon that abyss of ruin which is now opening beneath your feet. From that ruin you have no retreat, but by one or the other of these two alternatives; that of extending the circulation, or of reducing taxes and other payments, in the same proportion as the value of the currency has been increased. If we consider the effect which the change of the currency has produced upon private contracts, we must recollect, that those contracts were formed during nearly a quarter of a century, in a currency of a very different value and description, and upon the declaration which I find recorded on the Journals of the House of Commons, that a pound note and a shilling were equivalent in public estimation to a guinea, although it was known that guineas were sold for twenty-eight shillings each. The alteration of the currency has had the operation in private contracts, of conferring upon one party an advantage which he is not entitled to receive, while it imposes upon the other a burden which he did not stipulate to bear. The effect has, in some cases, amounted to nothing less than a total confiscation of the property, and many instances might be adduced of the most melancholy and afflicting nature, of individuals who have been ruined by the operation of this measure, This indeed has been said to be only a "transfer of property." The complaint, however, is in some cases, not that there is a
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"transfer," but a destruction of property; and the land which is wholly unprofitable, and yields no rent, will not become of greater value by being transferred to some monied man, who may purchase it on speculation, or as an investment, which though it is not at present lucrative, may be ultimately secure. What is a highway robbery but a forcible transfer of property? And of what nature are the transfers to which I allude? I am filled with horror and indignation, when I hear called by the mild and gentle phrase of a "transfer of property," an act of gigantic injustice, and the most systematic spoliation which ever yet disgraced a government or desolated a country. It has been described as a general confiscation of the property of debtors for the profit of their creditors. And here I must beg to submit to your lordships a question which is most interesting and most important, and which deserves your most serious consideration. I know that parliament is invested with great and extensive powers, which it holds for the benefit of the people, from whom they were originally derived, and which it ought to exercise only for the furtherance of that object. I would ask, whether any parliament, however constituted, even with that perfect system of representation which does not now exist, can have the right to plunder one portion of the community for the profit of the other? If it has not that right, and if it should assume and exercise a power which does not lawfully belong to it, I would then ask your lordships, what are the rights which in such a case would belong to an oppressed and injured people? To prevent such injustice, to avert those calamities, which, if continued, may terminate in convulsion, this House has the remedy in its own hands. Let it act upon true constitutional principles, and according to the practices of ancient times, in refusing any supplies until those grievances are redressed, which are now become intolerable, and which would have appeared incredible to our ancestors, as they will, I trust, appear also to our descendants. The argument in favour of parliamentary reform, has become unanswerable, and may prove to be irresistible. To parliamentary reform, if conducted upon proper principles, I am a zealous friend, but the mode of executing that object is of not less importance than the object itself; and while,

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on the one hand, I deprecate those inept and inefficient plans of reform which seem to have in view only the abolition of close boroughs, I should, on the other hand, condemn still more strongly that mischievous project of universal suffrage, which would give the whole weight to numbers, and would deprive property of its just and salutary influence, and even of its necessary protection. But, my lords, if the grievances which we now suffer should not be redressed, a convulsion may ensue, which may render it impracticable to effect a reform of parliament with due deliberation. What, if a hurricane should arise which might shake the empire to its basis, and endanger all the existing establishments both in church and state, a reform of parliament might arrive too late. The constant object of my zealous, but, alas! ineffectual exertions, has been to secure the public tranquillity, to promote, and, as far as possible, to perpetuate the public prosperity. If I were so selfish, which happily I am not, as to wish that the separate interests of any class of the community should be pursued at the expense a the others, I would intreat ministers to persevere in the course which they have adopted, to shut their eyes and ears to time complaints of the people, and to continue the present currency, and all the taxes and payments which now exist; for I am thoroughly convinced, that the result would be to grant to the agricultural interests, a relief such as they never asked, such even as they never desired, by the total annihilation and extinction of the national debt. We should not then hear of an "equitable adjustment" of the debt, and I approve of that phrase, but the consequences might be, that no vestige of it would remain. Such may be the consequence if the evil is allowed to take its own course, and to work its own cure. It has been truly observed by a noble earl, whose absence I deeply regret, that "your lordships possess every quality which can command respect, and which ought to secure independence." In this great crisis of our fate, a dereliction of your duty would not be forgotten or forgiven by the people. You will immediately institute an inquiry into the cause and into the cure of the present grievances, unless you are disposed to carry bankruptcy and beggary into every parish, and to extend throughout the empire, distress, discontent, despair, and even
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disaffection. You will support the motion which I shall propose, if you are not willing to be driven from the mansions of your ancestors, where you have lived in splendor, diffusing comfort and happiness around you; and if you are not prepared to become an assembly of noble and titled paupers, whose poverty and degradation would be the more galling as contrasted with the wealth which you have enjoyed, and would be the more conspicuous as combined with the rank which you will still continue to possess. I call upon you by the duty which you owe to your country, by every tie the most sacred, and by every consideration the most solemn, to institute an immediate inquiry. Such is the object of the proposed amendment; and I feel so strongly the vital importance of the subject, that I am determined to take the sense of the House, I know not with how many nor with how few I may divide, but I should not be ashamed or afraid to divide alone. Unconnected as I am with any party, the observations which I have made may have no other weight than that which they may receive from the integrity of my principles, from the independence of my conduct, and from my ardent zeal to promote the happiness and welfare and prosperity of my country.—I move, that the following words be inserted before the last paragraph of the Address: "That this House views with the deepest regret and anxiety the severe and unexampled distress which now afflicts the country, and will immediately proceed to examine its nature and its causes, the results that have arisen from altering the value of the currency, and the means of administering speedy and effectual relief."
The Marquis of Lansdowntrusted, that his noble friend would not imagine that he intended any thing like disrespect to him, or that he felt any indifference for the important topics of his speech, when he said, that having, for reasons which he would presently state, brought his mind to the conclusion, after a patient consideration of his majesty's Speech, that it was desirable that their lordships should adopt the Address which had been proposed with unanimity, he meant to abstain from entering into a protracted discussion upon any of the various matters to which his noble friend had very regularly and very naturally adverted, and many of which must, at a future period, become the subjects of grave consideration. It was cer-

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tainly impossible to describe the distresses of the country in too strong colours. Their magnitude and importance must be felt and acknowledged by their lordships; and he was certain that no man could have a deeper sense of them than himself. He believed that the unabated pressure which continued to weigh upon the most important interest of the country, even tended to destroy the frame of society; yet, with this impression, and with these feelings, he felt it his duty to declare, that there was a crisis at present impending on the continent, which ought to fix their lordships' attention almost to the exclusion of every other subject, and which would justify them in referring to a future day the consideration of those topics which had been alluded to by his noble friend, however important they were in themselves. It was hardly possible that any one of their lordships could fail to perceive, that transactions had recently taken place on the continent, out of which a crisis had arisen, which must come borne to the interests of every free country of Europe—he had almost said the interests of every individual inhabitant of Europe. It must particularly affect the most important interests of this country. He was or opinion that this country, although anxious for the preservation of tranquillity, would soon be placed in a situation in which, unless it was prepared to abandon the whole course of policy which it had pursued for centuries, and to discharge itself from the obligations arising out of existing compacts to which it was bound either by treaty or policy, would be compelled to depart from a pacific system, in vindication of that place which it ought to maintain in the scale of European society, and in support of the national independence of those countries with which we were connected. Under these circumstances, he was not disposed to offer any opposition to the address which had been proposed for their lordships' adoption, though he wished that it had been couched in stronger terms. He wished that, both in the Speech from the throne, and in the address which was proposed to his majesty, there had been a stronger and more explicit declaration of the sense which this country entertained of those principles which had unfortunately found their way into the councils of some of the great powers of Europe; and which, if acted upon to the extent to which they might be carried, would not
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fail to involve Europe in confusion, and to rouse the worst and most dangerous passions of human nature. Those principles had now, for the second time, been promulgated, in a manner which left no room for doubt as to their tendency. It would be vain and useless for ministers to attempt to conceal, even if they were so disposed, the character and extent of such principles, and the crisis which their promulgation had induced. Far from thinking it an object of expediency to palter with the sense of parliament and the country, he was of opinion, that his majesty's ministers would act wisely end judiciously, to unite with the legislature and the people in expressing their indignation, rather than their disapprobation, of the system which was founded upon the principles to which he had adverted, if there was any chance of averting the calamities which must grow out of it. Whether or not government would declare its opinion of the conduct of the continental powers as he thought it should do—and he was willing to believe that, in some degree, it already had done so—he was sure that public feeling would find vent through some channels, and that every part of the country would be eager to proclaim to the world the opinion which it entertained, and the sense which it cherished, of the rights of nations and the important interests which England had in maintaining them. The people of England had often been told that they had been the means of restoring and establishing in safety certain continental governments, and that of France was among the number. The price at which that safety and restoration had been purchased would long be remembered by this country. Our sufferings under the burdens which were the consequence of our exertions in favour of the present government of France, were embittered by the painful reflection, that it was the existence of those very burdens which compelled us to hesitate, as to whether we could or not venture to act, at the present moment, as our interests and character as a nation demanded. It must be mortifying to ministers and to the country to find, that notwithstanding the many monitory counsels which appeared to have been administered by the British government to the great foreign powers, those powers, totally unmindful of the debt of gratitude which they owed to this country, and of the part which she ought to take in assert-

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ing the independence of nations, were prepared blindly to rush upon an enterprise, which England had declared to be dangerous to the welfare of Europe, and in opposition to that system which had been agreed upon at, what a noble lord had that evening called, the pacification of Vienna. After what was generally known of the conduct of the English government, it was unnecessary for him to argue the unprincipled character of the invasion of an independent nation, which had been pointed at in the manifesto of the congress of Verona, and had lately been spoken of in a more undisguised manner in the speech of his most Christian majesty the king of France. Neither in that, nor in the other House of parliament, could there be found a man so base and so bold as to entertain and avow, a feeling of approbation for the system by which it was proposed to regulate the great concerns of Europe. On the ground on which he stood, therefore, he felt that he was without an opponent. In the speech of the noble mover of the Address, he could not find the slightest approximation to an approbation of the unprincipled system of the continental powers. On the contrary, he could perceive, that if that noble lord had not found himself cramped by the peculiar situation in which he stood, and the task which he had undertaken, he would not have failed to speak of that system in more emphatic terms. Such being the case, it was unnecessary to argue the sense in which the conduct of the allied powers was viewed in this country; and it was equally unnecessary to argue the merits of that government, the existence of which was now threatened. Whatever were the merits or the demerits of the Spanish constitution, was a question into which he would not enter. He entertained speculative opinions upon that subject, as any other man might do; but he felt that distrust which every person ought to be conscious of, when his opinions were applied to the internal concerns of another country. But, supposing for a moment, that defects did exist in the Spanish constitution, the means by which they were least likely to be remedied was foreign interference. That alone would be sufficient to attach every patriotic Spaniard to the constitution of his country. Men of all parties would rally round it, and reserve for another time the task of its amelioration, if it required any Without discussing the
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merits of the Spanish government, which formerly had been acknowledged by all the governments of Europe, although some of them now thought fit to make it the object of attack, he would endeavour to show the inevitable consequences that must follow from the system of the continental powers, if put into action. It should be remembered, that those sovereigns who were now conducting an attack upon the independent government of Spain, founding their aggression on the principle of putting down theories and experiments in governments, were themselves great theorists and experimentalists. Would it not be supposed, from the language of the continental state papers and manifestoes, that the system of interference in the internal concerns of other governments had been regularly attended with the happiest effects, and that the best institutions and governments were those which had grown out of such interference? But it would be found in every part of the history of the world, that the greatest instances of human perfidy had been brought into action, for the purpose of supporting governments founded on foreign interference. Let them look at the effects of such interference in modern times; let them consider the state of Naples, Piedmont, and of Poland; and then he would ask, whether the Spaniards, with the example of those unfortunate countries, and the experience of all history, before their eyes, were likely to accept that species of happiness, and that degree of liberty, from the hand of a foreign master? He would request their lordships to bear in mind the part which England took in a former invasion of Spain, and then consider what line of conduct it might be necessary for her to adopt upon a similar occasion. The projected invasion of Spain might be successful. If so, by what means could the government of a despotic king be maintained in that country, except by its military occupation by France? In that case, what would be the situation, of our own country, and particularly or Ireland, with every province of Spain occupied by foreign troops, ready to be directed against our maritime interests and domestic peace? He need not, he apprehended, say any thing more on this point. There was, however, another view of the question, not less important. In the event of complete success attending

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the French designs upon Spain, what would await Portugal? It would be inconsistent with the principle—if principle it could be called—upon which the French government proceeded to leave a free government existing in Portugal, after having succeeded in putting down one in Spain. The French government would, therefore, attack Portugal. Then he would ask, whether Portugal was not a country which we were bound by treaties to defend with our armies—a country whose interests had always been held to be indissolubly connected with those of Great Britain? It appeared certain, therefore, that, in the event of any hostile movement against Portugal by France, we should be forced into a war, probably under highly disadvantageous circumstances.—But, if France were only partially successful in her attack, a danger of another description would await this country, and the rest of Europe. If France should succeed in penetrating into, but not in overwhelming, Spain—if it should be obliged to leave a portion of the government in existence, and a part of the population attached to it, these unconquered Spaniards, grown desperate, would be compelled to have recourse to every measure, however extravagant, and to every principle, however revolting. There would be reason to dread, that defence might be sought in the spirit of Jacobinism, and that it would be sent forth over the world, probably to take root and spread in other countries. He felt bound, however, to bear testimony to the prudence, temper, moderation, and dignity which had characterized the conduct of the Spanish people. From regard to the great cause in which they were embarked, and in the hope of the glorious triumph of that cause, he most fervently prayed that it might remain unstained by those excesses, which a too fervent love of liberty had produced in other countries. But it would be too much that Spain, abandoned by all the world, and pressed by a foreign foe, and possessing no resource but the passions of an infuriated people, should abstain from calling into action that instrument so potent for the present purposes, but at the same time so mischievous in its results. If the government of Spain should resolve to raise the standard of Jacobinism, and let loose the population of that country, the consequences would be fatal to the peace, not only of Spain, but of all Europe. In any view of the
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subject, the invasion of Spain would be attended with great danger to the welfare of Europe. Such being the sense which he entertained of the crisis which was now threatening Europe, and of the character of the principles which had produced it, he wished that the Address had contained a more explicit declaration of the opinion which their lordships entertained of those principles in general, and of their application in the particular case of Spain. But, being bound to give credit to ministers for having used their exertions to avert the calamity of a war on the continent, and for having addressed protestations, however vainly, against the conduct of France, he must confess that he did not, under all the circumstances of the case, think the present was a fit time for proposing any further declaration of opinion than was contained in the Address; and if he had no other objection to the amendment of his noble friend, the absence of any allusion to the important question of the state of the continent would be sufficient to induce him to reject it. It ought not to be forgotten, also, that negociations were still pending; hopes were still entertained of convincing those who would not be convinced, and influencing those who would not be influenced.—With respect to the question of the currency, which was alluded to in the amendment, he entertained an opinion, that part, though perhaps a small part, of the difficulties arising out of the return to a metallic standard, arose from the unfortunate preference which was given to a gold rather than to a silver currency. He could not see what benefit could arise from a general examination of the question of the currency; but to an inquiry limited to the sole purpose of ascertaining whether gold or silver was the most proper standard, he would give his support and assistance.—The state of Ireland formed one of the topics of his majesty's Speech. He was sorry that he could not, last session, prevail upon their lordships to enter into an inquiry concerning the causes of the disasters of that country. He was happy to find that the state of Ireland appeared at length seriously to occupy the attention of his majesty's government; and he trusted that vigorous and effectual measures would be adopted for the amelioration of that country. In conclusion, he must repeat his wish, that the conduct of France

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towards Spain had been described in terms commensurate with the character of the proceeding. The fact was not truly stated, when it was said that there was "irritation subsisting between the French and Spanish governments." If the emperor of Austria were to send 100,000 men over to England to alter the constitution of the parliament, he should like to know how the noble earl at the head of the Treasury would describe such a proceeding. Would be infer from that circumstance, that there existed an irritation between the courts of Vienna and St. James's? There should be no softening clown of facts. England should show that she was not yet fallen so low, as to be obliged to conceal her opinions. He was certain, however, that the unanimous vote of that night would convince the French as well as the Spanish nation, that there was but one opinion among the people of England, with respect to the conduct of the former power.
The Earl of Liverpoolsaid, he would not have addressed their lordships upon the present occasion, but for the amendment which had been proposed by the noble earl. He regretted that the noble earl had thought it his duty to propose that amendment, because he considered it calculated to disturb that unanimity which might be of the most essential service. He regretted that circumstance the more, because he could see no necessity for the motion of the noble lord being made upon that particular day. There was nothing contained in the Speech from the throne, or in the Address to his majesty, which could preclude the noble earl from moving for an inquiry as to the state of agriculture or the currency, on the first open day. There was no sentiment in the speech of the noble mover of the Address which militated against any opinion which the noble earl might entertain. He therefore greatly regretted that the noble earl had seized that occasion to move his amendment. Their lordships were always unwilling to adopt any amendment, unless it were provoked by the speech of the person who proposed the address, or by the address itself; because it might, as on the present occasion, lead to a discussion on some of the most intricate questions of political economy, which every body knew could not, in such debates as usually took place on the first day of the session, receive the minute attention which was necessary.
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If at any future time, the noble earl should think fit to bring the internal state of the country, either with respect to its agriculture or its currency, under the distinct consideration of their lordships, he should be prepared to meet the question. The noble marquis seemed to be of opinion, that parliament had committed a great mistake in 1819, in preferring a gold to a silver currency. But the noble marquis ought to have considered one thing before he broached his proposition respecting the currency. It was one question, whether gold or silver were the better standard; and it was another, whether, having adopted a standard, parliament would change it, at the risk of augmenting the existing evils. He would now revert to those other topics of the noble marquis's speech. The noble marquis did not object either to the terms or the views of the Speech, or of the Address, but thought that they did not go far enough, and wished for a more distinct declaration of the opinions and policy of his majesty's government. Now he could not conceive a more distinct, clear, and open statement of intentions, than was made in the first paragraph of the Speech from the throne, which was as follows:—"Faithful to the principles which his majesty has promulgated to the world, as constituting the rule of his conduct, his majesty declined being a party to any proceedings at Verona, which could be deemed an interference in the internal concerns of Spain." It would be in their lordships' recollection where those "principles" were to be found: they were to be found in a document which had been alluded to by the noble lord who moved the Address; it was a note written by a dear and lamented friend of his, and issued on the 19th of January, 1821. In that note, the policy of the British government was distinctly declared, and it rested on the principle of the law of nations, which allowed every country to be the judge of how it could be best governed, and what ought to be its institutions; and, if exceptions to the rule might arise out of self-defence and self-preservation, they were to be considered as exceptions, and were to stand on their own peculiar merits. It would be in the recollection of noble lords, that a comment had been made upon that document on a former occasion, in the course of certain debates in that House. When the opinion of ministers

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was at that time asked, in respect of recent transactions in Spain, his majesty's government had most explicitly given their opinion, and in a manner with which the noble baron who had asked the question expressed himself perfectly satisfied. His majesty's government, he had no hesitation in declaring, viewed the question of Spain as one clearly and purely Spanish. It was not mixed up with any other. The question of her constitution was, for this purpose, not mixed up with any other consideration about the country. The constitution had been actually adopted by Spain during a war that raged in that country, and it had been acknowledged by Great Britain. If that constitution was defective, or required correction (as possibly, looking to the circumstances under which it was originated, it might have done), correction was in the power of her lawful and recognized sovereign, when he himself accepted it. Correction, accordingly, correction, but not abrogation, was advised: and he might at the time have objected to it. Had the sovereign then corrected it, the country would have thanked him for the modification—the people would have received it with applause. It was therefore that he (lord L.) did say, that Spain having acted in the manner he had mentioned, whatever right of interference there might, under other circumstances, exist as to other countries, nobody could honestly apply it to the case of Spain. But the question did not rest here. The conduct of Spain was most important in another point of view—in regard to the danger which had in some quarters been apprehended, from the extension of those principles that had been acted upon within her own dominions, to other existing governments; and this conduct showed that they who resisted foreign interference with their own institutions, were by no means endeavouring to effect the same changes in those of other countries: for not only did they not wish to do so, but they had expressly offered a disclaimer to this effect. He could not but think that, over and above all the considerations that must weigh with those who were to sit in judgment upon the affairs of Spain, there was one that, in the discussion of such a question as this, must always carry with it the greatest weight and influence; for, (although he certainly conceived that the case of Spain was to be looked at, and
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dealt with differently from that of another country which was some time since the subject of much discussion), he must concur with the noble lord in thinking, that whatever objections might be offered to, and whatever defects might (and doubtless did) exist in a constitution of this nature, yet there had been, and he sincerely trusted there would be, through out the career of those who had the conduct of affairs in Spain, a less taint of blood, of crime, and of violence, than was afforded by almost every other example of a similar revolution that had occurred in modern history. Such being the views that were entertained by his majesty's ministers, he thought there could be no doubt in the mind of any noble lord, as to the justice by which the policy of Great Britain would be guided on this occasion. But their lordships must observe, not only the justice, but the expediency of that policy, as the noble marquis had observed, in insisting upon the question of expediency. That was a question arising out of the danger that might accrue to all Europe, from an attempt to overthrow the Spanish constitution by force of arms. What was the wisdom of this country at the present moment? What should it continue to be? It would be our wisdom to confine ourselves within a position where we might be careful and vigilant observers of every operation—a position in which, without in any degree shrinking from the avowal of those great principles of conduct upon which we had always acted in great emergencies, we might be enabled, upon the approach of danger, to arrest the evil and to prevent it from extending to this kingdom. Having offered these remarks, he, for one, should have thought that the use of stronger language than was called for, either by the occasion, or by any necessity that had been shown, would have been, whether in the Speech from the throne, or the proposed Address, most improper, and most unwise. To have gone farther, indeed, upon this subject, was hardly within the power of his majesty's ministers; for he would even now say, notwithstanding all the threatening facts which had become matter of public notoriety, that war was not absolutely unavoidable. He would not say, indeed, that appearances were not strong; but he must hold, that whilst peace yet existed between the two countries, it would ill become either the power or the dignity of our own legis-

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lature, to use language that could only tend to prevent the attainment of that very end which they so much desired. The noble marquis had alluded to that paragraph of the Speech, in which his majesty had declared that he had employed his "good offices to allay the irritation unhappily subsisting between the French and Spanish governments." Now, he should be extremely sorry, if those words were to be supposed by any one to have reference to such an act as a forcible attack by France on the constitutional independence of Spain. But their lordships were aware, that there had long existed causes of "irritation" on both sides. There could be no doubt that, in consequence of the military operations on the frontiers, and of various other circumstances, a catalogue of little complaints might easily be drawn out by each country. He did not mean to deny, that it was very probable the stronger party might take hold of occurrences intrinsically insignificant, for the purpose of oppressing the weaker; all that he said was, that no doubt there were many causes of complaint on both sides. When, therefore, his majesty spoke of "allaying the irritation unhappily subsisting between the French and Spanish governments," the expression had evidently reference, not to the forcible entry of Spain by France, but merely to all those minor causes of complaint between the two governments, the existence of which might very easily be conceived by any one; and which the British government, in the character of a mediator, might not despair of being able to remove. He would trouble their lordships no further on the present occasion. He trusted he had spoken with sufficient explicitness on the question of the justice of the cause of Spain—He trusted he had spoken with sufficient explicitness on the question of the policy of the war with which Spain was threatened. On that latter point he probably felt more strongly than the noble marquis—he meant with reference to the probable effect of war—not on Spain only, but on France—not on France only, but on all Europe. For, much as be dreaded and deprecated war as affecting the interests of Spain, he had no hesitation in saying, that he dreaded and deprecated it still more as affecting the interests of France, and through France of all Europe. With respect to the conduct of this country in the possible situation in
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which it might be placed, every man must feel, that under our present circumstances, the policy of this country was neutrality. But, while he said this, he protested against being supposed for a moment to admit the idea—come from what quarter it might—that if unavoidable circumstances presented no alternative to this country but war or dishonour, it was not in a state to go to war. On the contrary, he was firmly convinced, that if parliament refused to adopt any measures calculated to sap the foundations of public credit, and if a war should appear to be necessary to the preservation of our honour, the country was in a state to meet it. Still, he readily allowed, that, after the extraordinary efforts which Great Britain had so recently made, and taking into consideration the present state of Europe, it was most desirable that if we could do so with regard to justice, with regard to our safety, with regard to our honour, with regard to our engagements with our allies, we should preserve our neutral position.—The present, however, was not the time for the consideration of that question. He had already asserted, and he would re-assert it, that whatever might be the existing probability of a rupture between France and Spain, he did not consider the door absolutely closed against negociation and amicable arrangement. Believing there was still a chance of accomplishing an amicable adjustment, he maintained, that as long as such a chance did exist, it was the interest and the duty of this country to hold such language as might not incapacitate it from furthering an object so generally desirable.
Lord Ellenberoughdeclared, that he had heard the greater part of the noble earl's speech with much pleasure and satisfaction. But, acknowledging (as the noble earl had acknowledged), that Spain had given a disclaimer of the mischievous principles that had been imputed to her constitution and government, he was the more astonished that the noble earl could be satisfied with the mere repetition, in the Speech from the throne, of that cold and inadequate protest, which his majesty's ministers had entered in respect of the case of Naples. Yet more astonished he was, that the noble earl could be satisfied with the line of policy that he would have the country adopt, seeing he considered the door of reconciliaton to be still open. Looking to the former conduct of

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government, he could not think that the Speech from the throne really contemplated the preservation of peace on the continent. At such a time as the present, he was unwilling to indulge in any language, that might excite anger or ill-feeling. He could not help remarking, however, that the conduct of his majesty's ministers had, for a long time, been such as not to place it in unison with the feelings of the people of this country. He had long observed, that the people placed no confidence in them. He felt, indeed, more than this—he felt that, whatever might be the expressions which his majesty's government, with a view to their own interests, chose to put forth as the expressions of their zeal for the interests of these kingdoms, and however much they might apparently desire to induce the allied powers to accept them as their own opinions, on this and on other occasions—he could not but apprehend that to those allied powers it somehow did appear, that the opinions of our own government were not in reality very different from those of the deliberating sovereigns who assembled at Laybach and Verona. If his majesty's government were sincere in those feelings which the noble earl had described them as being actuated by, they conceived themselves, upon their own representation, to be bound by the feelings entertained by the people of this country. Yet if so, he was astonished, that at the first opening of the proceedings that were had in the congress of Verona—on the first manifestation of those feelings to which allusion was made in the Speech from the throne, ministers did not on the instant call parliament together, and obtain the sanction of their public opinion on matters of which the importance seemed to render such a step absolutely necessary. He could not but think that the simple repetition of a protest on this occasion, which was originally made two years ago in respect of dangers that had now passed away, could hardly have been deemed sufficient by those who repeated it. But if, notwithstanding the speech delivered by the king of France to the two chambers—if, notwithstanding the march of hostile armies into Spain, the door of reconciliation was yet indeed open, he could not suppose that the noble earl really imagined that the language of the Address was of such a nature as to quiet the fears that must be entertained for the result. Surely the noble
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earl knew, that during the whole course of the revolutionary war, it was from the expression, the strong expression, of public feeling, that every great project was agitated, and every great measure attended with success. But if noble lords really felt an anxious desire to save Spain from the dangers threatened by the invasion of France, the consideration of our dangers ought to induce us to carry forward our negociations in the manner and tone most likely to give them effect. The noble lord then adverted to that part of the marquis of Lansdown's speech, in which he had alluded to the relative situation of Portugal to Spain, in the event of Spain being attacked by France. What had been suggested by his noble friend on this subject could not have failed to impress their lordships with its importance. He also would now wish to ask, supposing that Russia, more zealous and more persevering in effecting the proposed interference than France herself, should ever obtain a station in the Mediterranean—Minorca, for example—were the Russians to be permitted to remain in the Mediterranean? Supposing that Spain, from the operation of unfortunate events, should find herself unable to prevent the French from possessing themselves of her territory left of the Ebro, was it meant that we were to prevent the blockade of the coasts of Spain by Russia? or was the supply of stores to the Spanish army to be interdicted to us? Feeling that the allies had, in fact, declared war against the principles of all governments, derived, either in their origin or in their constitution, from the people—feeling that the principles upon which they would now attack Spain, might, in their effect, apply to this country—feeling that the existence of the parliament of England was infinitely more dangerous to the despotic authority of the sovereigns of Verona than any thing which had been done in, or imputed to, Naples, Piedmont, or Spain—feeling that it was highly desirable for this country to maintain its ancient union with states governed, not by absolute monarchs, but by wholesome laws, and happy institutions—he protested that he looked to the event of success on the part of France with infinite dismay. Feeling, too, that in the threatened struggle so many cases might arise, in which; consistently with our honour and our interests, it would be impossible that we should not be in-

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volved, he did conceive that the noble earl might have done more than merely reiterate the protest of two years ago, adapted to the peculiar circumstances that were considered to render it necessary, and quite inapplicable to the present.
The Earl of Darnleydeclared his inability to concur in the amendment of his noble friend. What he now rose for was, to state that he had intended to call the earliest attention of parliament to the state of Ireland, with a view to mitigate the calamities with which that unhappy country was afflicted. The passage, however, in his majesty's Speech on the subject, induced him to postpone that intention.
Their lordships then divided on earl Stanhope's Amendment: Contents, 3; Not-Contents, 62. After which, the original Address was agreed to, nem. dis.