Her Majesty's marriage with Prince Albert of Saxe-Coburg, her first cousin—one tending as greatly to the happiness of herself and the advantage of the nation as any royal marriage recorded in history—took place in the beginning of 1840; and in the preparatory arrangements— matters of far greater consequence to the Queen's feelings than any appointments in the household—the ministry, by singular mismanagement, contrived to force the consideration of other constitutional questions on Parliament in such a way that the conclusions which were adopted, however inevitable, could hardly fail to be mortifying and vexatious to her Majesty, in whose cup of happiness at such a moment special care ought rather to have been taken to prevent the admixture of any such alloy. In the matter of the annuity to be settled on the young Prince, the Opposition must, indeed, share the blame with the minister. If it was unpardonable carelessness in the latter to omit the usual practice of previously consulting the leaders of the Opposition on the amount of the grant to be proposed, it was not the less impolitic and unworthy of such men as the Duke and Sir Robert Peel to show their disapproval of the inattention by a curtailment of the grant. The sum proposed, L50,000 a year, was fairly justified by the fact of its being the same which twenty-four years before had been settled on the Prince's uncle, Leopold, on his marriage with the Princess Charlotte. Indeed, if there were to be any difference, the circumstances might have been regarded as warranting an increase rather than a diminution of it. Money was certainly more plentiful in 1840 than in 1816, and the husband of an actual Queen occupied, beyond all question, a higher position than the husband of the heiress-presumptive, who might never become Queen, and who, in fact, never did. We cannot think, therefore, that the reduction of L20,000, which Sir Robert Peel proposed and carried, was reasonable or becoming, but regard it as neither called for by the circumstances of the kingdom, nor as befitting its liberality, nor as in harmony with its practice.

But on the two other questions—one immediately affecting the constitution, and the other not absolutely unconnected with it—no defence of the minister seems available. At the opening of Parliament in 1840, her Majesty commenced her speech by the announcement of her intended marriage, describing the bridegroom simply as "the Prince of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha," the same expression which she had used in addressing the Privy Council a few weeks before. That description of him had at once struck her uncle, Leopold—who, since the death of his English wife, the Princess Charlotte, had become King of Belgium—as so imperfect and insufficient, that, on reading her address to the Privy Council, he at once wrote to her to point out that it would have been desirable to mention the fact of the Prince being a Protestant,[250] and that the omission would inevitably cause discontent. But, in spite of this warning, Lord Melbourne refused to advise the Queen to insert a statement of the Prince's religion in her speech, though it was by no means superfluous on such an occasion, since, if he were a Roman Catholic, a marriage with him would have incurred a forfeiture of the crown. The Duke of Wellington, on the other hand, regarded it as a positive duty to require that the fact of the Prince being a Protestant should be mentioned, so as to show the care of Parliament to prevent any constitutional precautions from being overlooked, such statement having, indeed, been usually made on similar occasions. When he, therefore, moved an amendment to insert the word "Protestant" in the description of the Prince, Lord Melbourne did not venture to divide the House against it; but still his management gave an ungracious appearance to the transaction, as if there had been in any quarter an unwillingness to recognize the fact of the Prince's Protestantism till the recognition was forced on the government by the action of the Parliament.

The third question, as affecting the relative ranks and positions of the different members of the royal family, cannot be said to have been wholly unconnected with the provisions of the constitution; and the mismanagement of the minister was, perhaps, even more sure to attract notice in this case than in the other, since to introduce into a bill a clause which had no connection whatever with its title had something of the appearance of a deliberate slight to the two Houses. A bill to naturalize the Prince was, of course, indispensable. But into it the ministers, without any notice, had introduced a clause enabling him "during his life to take precedence in rank after her Majesty in Parliament and elsewhere as her Majesty might think fit and proper, any law, statute, or custom to the contrary notwithstanding." It was admitted that no such precedence had been given to Prince George of Denmark, nor to Prince Leopold. And there were obvious difficulties in the way of conferring such a life-long precedence, because, as Lord Brougham had pointed out, it was possible that the Queen might die without issue, in which case the King of Hanover would become King of England also, and his son the Prince of Wales; and it would have been an inconceivable anomaly that a foreign naturalized prince should take precedence of the Prince of Wales, whose special rank and importance was recognized in many acts of Parliament. This objection was so clearly insuperable, that Lord Melbourne consented to alter the clause so as to give the Prince precedence only "after the heir-apparent." But even this concession failed to satisfy the objectors, the King of Hanover, among others, positively refusing to waive his precedence over any foreign prince. And eventually the minister withdrew the clause altogether, and the bill, as it was passed, was confined to the naturalization of the Prince. Lord Melbourne had thus contrived to make the Queen and Prince appear as if they were desirous to induce the two Houses by a sort of trick to confer on the Prince a precedence and dignity to which he was not entitled, and to render the refusal of Parliament to be so cajoled a fresh cause of mortification to the royal pair. The course that was eventually adopted is understood to have been suggested by the Duke of Wellington—to withdraw the affair altogether from the cognizance of Parliament, and to leave it to the Queen to confer on the Prince whatever precedence she might choose, as it was certainly within her right to do. And so, a few days after the bill had passed, she did by letters-patent give him precedence next to herself "on all occasions and in all meetings, except when otherwise provided by act of Parliament," as, seventeen years later, she, in the same way, with the cordial approval of the whole nation, conferred on him the title of Prince Consort. And apart from its convenience, as avoiding all unseemly discussions, this would seem to have been the most natural and proper mode of settling such a matter. The Queen is the fountain of honor in this kingdom, and at her own court she can certainly confer on any of her own subjects whatever precedence she may think fit, while it may be doubted whether any act of a British Parliament could give precedence at a foreign court. It was, probably, not in his character of Duke of Cumberland, but as an independent sovereign, that the King of Hanover maintained his claim to superior precedence; and it was plain that the most illustrious subject could not possibly at any court be allowed to rank above a king. With reference to its possible effect on the subsequent relations of Peel and his followers with the court, it was, perhaps, well that a few months later they had the opportunity of proving that no personal objection to the Prince himself had influenced their course in these transactions, by giving a cordial assent to the ministerial proposal of conferring the Regency on him in the event of the Queen giving an heir to the throne, and dying while he was still a minor. The principle was the same as that which had guided the arrangements for a Regency ten years before; but it was not inconceivable that Parliament might have hesitated to intrust so large an authority to so very young a man, and him a comparative stranger, such as the Prince still was, had the leaders of the Opposition given the slightest countenance to such an objection.

Lord Melbourne's ministry was hardly strengthened by the circumstances under which it resumed office. Yet the close of the same year witnessed a reform of which it is hardly too much to say that no single measure of this century has contributed more to the comfort of the whole mass of the people, with which it has also combined solid commercial benefits. Hitherto the Post-office had been managed in a singular manner, and the profit derived from it had been treated as something distinct from the ordinary revenue of the kingdom. In the reign of Charles II. it had been given to the Duke of York, and the grant was regarded as conferring on him such extensive rights, that when, some years afterward, an enterprising citizen set up a penny post for the delivery of letters in the City and its precincts, the Duke complained of the scheme as an infraction of his monopoly, and the courts of law decided in his favor. That grant ceased, as a matter of course, on the Duke's accession to the throne; and in the reign of Queen Anne a portion of the Post-office proceeds was appropriated, with the general consent of a grateful country, to reward the great achievements of the Duke of Malborough, a perpetual charge on it of L5000 a year being annexed to the dukedom. In those days the postage of a letter was twopence for short distances, and threepence for any distance beyond eighty miles.[251] But those charges had been gradually increased; about the middle of the century the lowest charge was fixed at fourpence, rising in proportion to the distance, till the conveyance of a single letter from one extremity of the kingdom to the other cost eighteen-pence. Such a rate could not fail to be very profitable; and by the beginning of the present reign the yearly profit exceeded a million and a half of money. The heaviness of the charge, however, had latterly attracted attention, and had been the cause of many complaints, as being a great discouragement, and, in the case of the poorer classes, a complete obstacle to communication. However, neither the ministers nor the Parliament had succeeded in devising any remedy, since a system affording so large a return was not a thing lightly to tamper with, when those who complained suddenly found a practical leader in Mr. Rowland Hill, who published a pamphlet on the subject, in which he affirmed the cost of the conveyance of each letter even for such a distance as from London to Edinburgh to be infinitely less than a farthing; and that, consequently, all the rest of the postage was a tax for the purposes of revenue. When this fact was once established, it needed no argument to prove that to increase the tax paid by each recipient of a letter in proportion to the distance at which he lived from the writer was an indefensible unfairness; and, after much investigation and discussion, Mr. Hill succeeded in converting the ministers to his view. Accordingly, the Budget for 1839, introduced by Mr. Spring Rice, then Chancellor of the Exchequer, contained a clause which reduced the postage for every letter weighing less than an ounce to a uniform charge of a penny, to be prepaid by means of a stamp to be affixed to each letter by the sender. It was not without plainly-expressed reluctance that the scheme was consented to by the Opposition; nor can their hesitation be considered as unreasonable, in the very unsatisfactory condition of the finances of the kingdom at the time. The balance-sheet of the preceding year showed a considerable deficiency. There was a large unfunded debt; and even Mr. Hill's most sanguine calculations admitted a probable loss to the Post-office of L1,200,000 for the first year or two; though he expressed his confidence that eventually the correspondence of the kingdom would be found to increase so largely as to make up for the greater part, if not the whole, of the deficiency. His anticipations were far outran by the reality.

In 1839 the Postmaster-general estimated the number of letters sent yearly by the post at less than twenty-five millions. They are now upward of a thousand millions, a number the conveyance of which (with the addition of newspapers, whose circulation had also been greatly augmented by a recent reduction of the tax to a penny) would have severely taxed the whole carrying power of the kingdom before the introduction of railroads. Nor have the benefits of the new system been confined to ourselves. Foreign nations have followed our example, though not quite in the same degree, till an international postage is at length established throughout the whole of the civilized world. And it has not been only the happiness of private individuals that has been augmented by this facility of communication. In its gradual development it has largely promoted the extension of trade of every kind, and, by facilitating a commercial intercourse between nations, it cannot but contribute to the maintenance of friendship and peace.

The full advantages of this reform could not be seen at first; but, even had it been appreciated as fully as we appreciate it now, no approval of it could have counterbalanced the general dissatisfaction with which the ministry was regarded. At home the finances were falling into great disorder, the expenditure of the year greatly exceeding the income; while the feeling that their Irish policy was dictated by a wish to purchase at any price the support of O'Connell, was still more injurious to them, for he was already beginning to renew agitation in Ireland, inaugurating a new association, which, though its purposes were faintly veiled for a time under the title of the Precursor Association, was understood to point at a repeal of the Union; while the ministers, though they denounced such a measure as ruinous to every part of the kingdom, seemed willing to give it practical encouragement by a bill which they introduced, which bore the name of a Registration Act for Ireland, but which was not confined to that object. On the contrary, it contained a provision for lowering the qualification for the franchise by one-half; so that it was, in fact, a new Reform Bill for Ireland,[252] calculated greatly to increase his influence by the number of voters of the poorer classes whom it would create. The bill was defeated, but the odium of having proposed it remained.

But, besides these home difficulties, there were troubles abroad, both in the East and in the West. In the East, the complications inseparable from a dominion like that of ours in India, where constant expansion seemed to have become a law of its existence, had involved us in a war with a new enemy, the warlike Afghan nation; in the West, both Jamaica and Canada were in a state threatening insurrection. Indeed, the troubles in Jamaica had been the immediate cause of that resignation of the ministry in 1839 which has already been mentioned. Measures adopted in the English Parliament with reference to the termination of that apprenticeship system which, as we have seen, formed a part of the bill for the abolition of slavery, and another for the regulation of the prisons in the island, had given such offence to the colonial Assembly, never very manageable, that the members passed a resolution that their legislative rights had been violated, and that they would abstain from all exercise of their legislative functions, except such as might be necessary "to preserve inviolate the faith of the island with the public creditor, until" (by the rescinding of the resolutions, etc., of which they complained) "they should be left to the free exercise of their inherent rights as British subjects." And this resolution was seconded by an insulting protest, in which they drew an offensive comparison between the state of crime in the island and that which prevailed in Great Britain, taunting the British Parliament with the murders and acts of incendiarism which terrified Ireland night and day, with the murders of Burke and Hare in Scotland, with the law of divorce and crim. con. trials in England, and "a Poor-law which has taken millions from the necessities of the destitute to add to the luxuries of the wealthy." The Governor dissolved the Assembly, but that which succeeded re-adopted the resolutions of its predecessor, and the ministers, in consequence, brought in a bill "to suspend the existing constitution of the island for a limited number of years, and to provide that during that interval its legislative functions should not be exercised by a Governor, a Council, and a House of Assembly, but should reside in the Governor and Council alone." The emergency was too great and undeniable, the remedy proposed was also too unprecedented in its stringency, to be dealt with without the gravest deliberation; and the House of Commons accordingly gave the matter the patient consideration which became both it and themselves. They allowed the island to appear by counsel against the bill, and listened for many hours to an elaborate defence of the conduct of the Assembly, which if it failed to change the intention of the ministers, convinced Sir Robert Peel and his party that their measure was doubtful in its justification and impolitic in its severity. He pointed out that "the bill was neither more nor less than one for the establishment of a complete despotism—one which would establish the most unqualified, unchecked, unmitigated power that was ever yet applied to the government of any community, in place of that liberal system which had prevailed for upward of one hundred and fifty years." And, though he did not for a moment question the power of Parliament to pass such a measure, he greatly doubted the policy of such an exertion of it. A somewhat similar measure affecting Canada they had been compelled to enact in the preceding year, and he feared lest "it might seem to be coming to be a practice of Parliament to suspend a constitution every session." And he quoted a speech of Canning, delivered fifteen years before, in which that eloquent statesman, a man by no means inclined to a timorous policy, had declared that "no feeling of wounded pride, no motive of questionable expediency, nothing short of real and demonstrable necessity, should ever induce him to moot the awful question of the transcendental power of Parliament over every dependency of the British crown. That transcendental power was an ordinance of empire, which ought to be kept back within the penetralia of the constitution. It exists, but it should be veiled. It should not be produced on trifling occasions, or in cases of petty refractoriness or temporary misconduct."

And Sir Robert, "looking at all the papers before the House, could not say that there was here any vindication for bringing forward this transcendental power." He asked whether "they had ever treated with so much severity a conquered colony amid the first heat of animosity after the contest." And he traced the history of our government of the island back to the time of Charles II., pointing out (as Burke had formerly argued with respect to our Colonies in North America) that "Jamaica owed its colonization by British subjects to the conquest that was made of it by the arms of Cromwell; that its first English population was composed of those who, disgusted with the excesses of the civil wars, there found a refuge," and who had carried with them that attachment to liberty which, as early as 1678, had led them successfully to repel the attacks made on the privileges of their House of Assembly by the ministers of Charles II. He warned the House, also, that if this measure were passed, "a sympathy for the people of Jamaica would be excited throughout the other West Indian possessions of the crown." And, while fully admitting that the conduct of the Assembly had been "foolish and unjustifiable," he still recommended that it should be treated in a conciliatory spirit, which as yet had not been shown toward it.

The government carried their proposal by a majority of no more than five in a very full house, a success which they regarded as a defeat, and, as has been already mentioned, resigned. But as the state of the question and of the island did not admit of delay, on their resumption of their offices they introduced a fresh measure, which the Conservatives again curtailed of its most severe clauses, and which, in the form in which it was eventually passed, gave the Assembly time to reconsider its conduct, and, without the humiliation of confessing itself guilty, to give a practical recantation of their offensive resolutions, by resuming its work of legislation, any farther delay of which would on many subjects be very mischievous to the island itself. The distinct assertion by both parties of the power of the Parliament to inflict even the severest penalty enabled the Houses to take this conciliatory course without loss of dignity; while the stern disapproval of the conduct of the Assembly which the Conservative leader had expressed, even when pleading for a milder treatment of it, convinced the colonists that any protracted contumacy would be dangerous, and would deprive them for the future of all title to even the modified protection which on this occasion had saved them.

In the discussion of these transactions, Peel, as we have seen, had alluded to the affairs of Canada, which had been of a still more serious complexion; since there the discontent of the colonists in the Lower Province had developed into armed insurrection. We have seen that, from the first moment after the country had passed into our possession, there had been almost constant dissensions between the old French colonists and the English immigrants who crossed over both from England and from the colonies on the southern side of the St. Lawrence in the early part of the reign of George III. The desire of terminating these divisions, which had their root in a difference of religion as well as of race, the French settlers being Roman Catholics, had been one of the chief motives which had led Pitt in 1791 to divide the country into two provinces.[253] And for many years the scheme was fairly successful; but, toward the end of the reign of George IV., the political excitement caused by the agitation in England of the question of Catholic Emancipation, and subsequently of Reform, spread across the Atlantic to the Canadas; and the French portion of the colonists, who almost monopolized the representation in Lower Canada, began to urge the adoption of changes utterly inconsistent with the existing constitution of the colony. In the hope of compelling the compliance of the home government with their demands, in 1832 and the following years they refused to vote the necessary supplies; and, gaining courage, as it were, from the contemplation of their own violence, and under the guidance of a leader of French extraction, a M. Papineau, who scarcely concealed his hope of effecting the complete severance of the Lower Province from the British dominion, they proceeded to put forth farther demands, which they regarded as plausible from the apparent resemblance of the changes which they required to the system of the English constitution, but which, to use the words in which Sir Robert Peel described them, would have established "a French republic." The most important of them were that the Upper or Legislative Council should, like the Assembly, be rendered elective, instead of, as had hitherto been the case, being nominated by the crown. And another asked that the Executive Council should be made responsible to the Assembly, in the same manner as in England the ministers of the crown were responsible to Parliament. As it was at once shown that the ministry at home had no intention of granting these demands, Papineau collected a band of malcontents in arms, with whom he took possession of one or two small towns, and ventured even to measure his strength with the Commander-in-chief of the province, Sir John Colborne, one of the most distinguished of Wellington's comrades and pupils. His force was utterly routed, and he himself fled across the frontier to New York. A similar outbreak, excited in the Upper Province by a newspaper editor, was crushed with equal ease and rapidity.[254] And the next year, 1838, Lord John Russell brought forward a bill to suspend the constitution of the colony, and to confer on a new Governor, who was at once to proceed thither, very ample powers for remodelling the government of the province, subject, of course, to the sanction of the home government. In the previous year he had succeeded in carrying some resolutions announcing the determination of Parliament not to concede the demands of the Assembly of the Lower Province, which have been already mentioned. And the reasons which he gave for this course are worth preserving, as expressing the view recognized by Parliament of the relations properly existing between the mother country and a colony. It was on a proper understanding of them that he based his refusal to make the Executive Council in Canada responsible to the Assembly. He held such a step to be "entirely incompatible with those relations. Those relations require that his Majesty should be represented, not by a person removable by the House of Assembly, but by a Governor sent out by the King, responsible to the King, and responsible to the Parliament of Great Britain. This is the necessary constitution of a colony; and if we have not these relations existing between the mother country and the colony, we shall soon have an end of these relations altogether." And he pointed out the practical difficulties which might reasonably be apprehended if such a change as was asked were conceded. "The person sent out by the King as Governor, and those ministers in whom the Assembly confided, might differ in opinion, and there would be at once a collision between the measures of the King and the conduct of the representatives of the colony."

The plan of sending out a new Governor free from any previous association with either of the parties, or any of the recent transactions in the colony, was, probably, the wisest that could have been adopted. Unfortunately, it was in some degree marred by the choice of the statesman sent out, Lord Durham, a man of unquestioned ability, but of an extraordinarily self-willed and overbearing temper. He drew up a most able report of the state of the provinces, combined with recommendations of the course to be pursued toward them in future, so judicious that subsequent ministers, though widely differing from his views of general politics, saw no better plan than that which he had suggested; but, unhappily, the measures which he himself adopted, especially with respect to the treatment of those who had been leaders in the late rebellion, were such manifest violations of law, that the government at home had no alternative but that of disallowing some of them, and carrying a bill of indemnity for others. He took such offence at their treatment of him, though it was quite inevitable, that he at once resigned his appointment and returned home. But the next year the Queen sent down a message to the Houses recommending a union of the two provinces (a measure which had been the most important, and the very foundation, of his suggestions), and Lord John Russell introduced a bill which, as he described its object, he hoped would "lay the foundation of a permanent settlement of the affairs of the entire colony." The main feature of the government policy was the formation of "a legislative union of the two provinces on the principles of a free and representative government," and the establishment of such a system of local government as amounted to a practical recognition of the principle so earnestly repudiated, as we have seen, by Lord John Russell a year or two before. It was not, perhaps, fully carried out at first. Lord Sydenham, who had succeeded Lord Durham, reported to the home government, as the result of a tour which he had taken through a great part of the country, that in the whole of the Upper Province, and among the British settlers of the Lower Province, "an excellent spirit prevailed, and that he had found everywhere a determination to forget past differences, and to unite in an endeavor to obtain under the union those practical measures for the improvement of the country which had been too long neglected in the struggle for party and personal objects." But of the French Canadians he could not give so favorable a report. Efforts were still made by some of the old Papineau party to mislead the people; but he was satisfied they would not again be able to induce the peasantry to support any attempt at disturbance. It was natural that that party should still feel some soreness at the utter failure of their recent attempts and the disappointment of their hopes; and affairs took the longer time in being brought into perfect order and harmony through a strange mortality which took place among the first Governors-general. Lord Sydenham died the next year of lockjaw, brought on by a fall from his horse; Sir Charles Bagot was forced to retire in a state of hopeless bad health after an administration equally brief; two years later, Sir Charles Metcalfe, who succeeded him, returned home only to die; and it was not till a fourth Governor, Lord Elgin, succeeded to the government that it could be said that the new system, though established five years before, had a fair trial.

Fortunately, he was a man admirably qualified by largeness of statesman-like views and a most conciliatory disposition for such a post at such a time; and he strictly carried out the scheme which was implied by the bill of Lord John Russell, and to a certain extent inaugurated by Lord Sydenham, selecting his advisers from the party which had the confidence of the Legislative Assembly, and generally directing his policy in harmony with their counsels; so that under his government the working of the colonial constitution was a nearly faithful reproduction of the parliamentary constitution at home. Such a policy was in reality only a development of the principle laid down by Pitt half a century before, and warmly approved by his great rival, that "the only method of retaining distant colonies with advantage is to enable them to govern themselves."[255] And since that day similar constitutions have been established in our other distant dependencies as they have become ripe for them—in New Zealand, the Cape, and the Australian colonies—almost the only powers reserved to the home government in those colonies in which such constitutions have been established being that of appointing the governors; that of ratifying or, if necessary, disallowing measures adopted by the colonial government; and, in cases of necessity, that of prescribing measures for the adoption of the local Legislatures, and even of compelling such adoption, in the event of any persevering opposition. The act of 1850, which established a constitution in Victoria, went even farther in the privileges it conferred on the colonists, inasmuch as it gave power to the Legislative Council to alter some of its provisions, and even to remodel the Legislative Council and Assembly. It may be doubted whether this last concession did not go too far, since in more than one important instance the government of that great colony has availed itself of it so liberally as to render it necessary to pass a fresh act of Parliament to enable her Majesty to give her royal assent to some of the changes which the Assembly had enacted.[256] Indeed, it cannot be said that the system has worked in every part or on every occasion quite as well as might have been hoped; nor can it be denied that the colonies have occasionally claimed a power of independent action in opposition to the home Parliament in a way to try severely the patience of the home government. After the British Parliament had adopted the policy and system of free-trade, the Canadian Assembly adhered to the doctrine of protection so obstinately that it actually established a tariff of import duties injurious to the commerce of the mother country, and apparently intended as a condemnation of its principles. But its contumacy showed how wholly different was the spirit of the British government from that which had prevailed in the last century; for though the home government had unquestionably the right of disallowing the offensive tariff, it forbore to exercise it; and, probably, by this striking proof that it considered a complete recognition of the principle of local self-government more important than any trifling financial or commercial advantage, contributed greatly to implant in Canada and all the colonies that confidence in the affectionate moderation of the home government which must be the strongest, if not the only indissoluble, bond of union.

On the whole, it is hardly too much to say that no more statesman-like, and (if sentiment may be allowed a share in influencing the conduct of governments) no more amiable spirit animates any act of our modern legislation than is displayed in these arrangements for the management of our colonies. They are a practical exemplification of the idea embodied in the expression, "the mother country." A hundred years ago, Burke sought to impress on the existing ministers and Parliament the conviction that, "so long as our Colonies kept the idea of their civil rights associated with our government, they would cling and grapple to us, and no force under heaven would be of power to tear them from their allegiance." In the case of which he was speaking his warning, as we have seen, fell on deaf ears; but the policy of the present reign is a willing and full adoption of them, on a far larger scale than even his farseeing vision could then contemplate. Within the century which has elapsed since his time the enterprise of Britain has sent forth her sons to people another hemisphere; and they, her children still, cling to the parent state with filial affection, because they feel that, though parted from her by thousands of miles and more than one ocean, they are still indissolubly united to her by their participation in all the blessings of her constitution, her generous toleration, her equal laws, her universal freedom.

On one transaction of these years the leaders of the Opposition were found acting in close agreement with the ministers. We have seen how, in the early part of the reign of George III., the House of Commons threw the sheriffs of London into prison, on account of their performance of what they conceived to be their duty as magistrates; and in 1840 it subjected the same officials to the same treatment on a question of the same character—the extent of the privilege of the House of Commons to overrule the authority of the courts of law. The question was in appearance complicated by the institution of several suits at law, and by the fact that the House was not consistent in its conduct, but allowed its servants to plead to the first action, and refused the same permission in the second, when the result of the first trial had proved adverse to them. The case was this: some inspectors of prisons has presented a report to Parliament, in which they alleged that they had found in Newgate a book of disgusting and obscene character, published by a London publisher named Stockdale. The House of Commons had ordered the report to be printed and sold by Messrs. Hansard, the Parliamentary publishers, and Stockdale brought an action against Messrs. Hansard for libel. Chief-justice Denman charged the jury that "the fact of the House of Commons having directed Messrs. Hansard to publish their reports was no justification to them for publishing a Parliamentary report containing a libel;" and Stockdale obtained damages, which were duly paid. Stockdale, encouraged by this success, when, in spite of the result of the late trial, Hansard continued to sell the report, brought a fresh action; but now the House forbade the publishers to plead to it; and, as they obeyed the prohibition, and forbore to plead, the case eventually came before the Sheriff's Court; fresh damages were given, and, in obedience to the writ of the Queen's Bench, the sheriffs seized Hansard's goods, and sold them to satisfy the judgment. Lord John Russell, as leader of the House, moved to bring to the Bar of the House all the parties concerned in the action—the plaintiff, his attorney, the sheriffs, and the under-sheriffs. He was opposed by nearly all the legal members of the House except the crown lawyers, Sir Edward Sugden especially warning the House that "a resolution of the House was of no avail in a court of justice;" while others taunted the House with want of courage in not proceeding against the judges themselves, rather than against their officers, which in this case the sheriffs were.

There could be no doubt of the importance of the question, since it was no less, as the Attorney-general, Sir J. Campbell, put it, than a question whether Parliament or the courts of law had the superiority; and now Sir Robert Peel, as leader of the Opposition, came to the support of Lord John Russell, declaring his opinion to be, first, that "the House possessed every privilege necessary for the proper and effectual discharge of its functions;" secondly, that "the publication of evidence which had led the House to adopt any course was frequently essential to justify that course to the nation;" and thirdly, that "to judge of the extent of their privileges, and to vindicate them by their own laws, belonged to the House alone." And he pressed strongly on the House that it was "the duty of the House to fight the battle to the last," though he confessed that "it was with pain that he had come to the determination of entering into a contest with the courts of law." On one point the judges agreed with the House of Commons. The House committed the sheriffs; but, when they sued out their habeas corpus, the judges decided that the return of the Sergeant-at-arms that they were committed by the House for breach of privilege was a sufficient return. Stockdale brought fresh actions. But meantime the case was arousing a strong excitement in the country.[257] The singular hardship of the position of the sheriffs excited general sympathy: if they obeyed the House of Commons, which prohibited them from paying over to Stockdale the damages which they had received for him, the Court of Queen's Bench would be bound to attach them for disobedience to its order. If they obeyed the Queen's Bench, the House would imprison them for breach of privilege. And the national feeling is always in favor of the strictly defined authority of the courts of law, rather than of the somewhat indefinite claims of Parliament to interpret, and even to make, privilege. Another consideration, probably, weighed a little with the champions of the House—that their power of imprisonment ended with the session. As matters went on, it was found that even the Attorney and Solicitor-general differed as to the course to be pursued; and eventually Lord John Russell consented to adopt the advice which had been given by a former Attorney-general, Sir F. Pollock, and to bring in a bill to legalize all similar proceedings of Parliament in future, by enacting that a certificate that the publication of any document had been ordered by either House should be a sufficient defence against any action. The introduction of such a bill was in some degree an acknowledgment of defeat; but it can hardly be denied to have been not only a judicious step, but the only one practicable, if the contest between Parliament and the courts of law were not to be everlasting; and it met with general approval. If it was a compromise, it was one that satisfied both parties and both ends. It upheld the authority of the courts of law, and at the same time it practically asserted the reasonableness of the claim advanced by the House of Commons, by giving it for the future the power which it had claimed. Nor were people in this day inclined to be jealous of the privileges of Parliament, so long as they were accurately defined. They felt that it was for the advantage and dignity of the nation that its powers and privileges should be large; what they regarded with distrust was, a claim of power of which no one knew the precise bounds, and which might, therefore, be expanded as the occasion served.

Notes:

[Footnote 245: Fifty-two mills and 30,000 persons were thrown out of employment for ten weeks at Ashton in 1830 by the turning out of 3000 "coarse spinners," who could clear at the time from 28s. to 31s. per week. The following passage is extracted from an oath said to have been administered by the combined spinners in Scotland in 1823: "I, A B, do voluntarily swear, in the awful presence of God Almighty, and before these witnesses, that I will execute with zeal and alacrity, as far as in me lies, every task or injunction which the majority of my brethren shall impose upon me in furtherance of our common welfare, as the chastisement of knobs, the assassination of oppressive and tyrannical masters, or the demolition of shops that shall be deemed incorrigible."—Annual Register, 1838, pp. 204-207.]

[Footnote 246: See page 221.]

[Footnote 247: The question was examined with great minuteness by Lord Brougham a fortnight after the ministerial explanation. See "Parliamentary Debates," 3d series, xlvii., 1164.]

[Footnote 248: It is stated on good authority that Lord Melbourne, in private conversation, justified or explained the line he had taken by his consideration for his friends, scores of whom would have had their hopes blighted by his retirement.]

[Footnote 249: See "Life of the Prince Consort," i., 55.]

[Footnote 250: "Life of the Prince Consort," i., 57.]

[Footnote 251: Macaulay's "History of England," i., 386.]

[Footnote 252: This is the name which the Liberal historian of the time, Miss Martineau, gives it. "The so-called Registration Bill was, in fact, an unannounced new Reform Bill for Ireland."—History of the Peace, book v., c. vi.]

[Footnote 253: See ante, p. 127.]

[Footnote 254: In one instance the rebels were aided by a party of citizens of the United States, who, without any sanction from their own government, seized an island on the St. Lawrence belonging to us, and attacked some of the Canadian villages. And this led to the discussion of a question of international combined with constitutional law, which Lord Campbell thus describes: "'Whether, if the subjects or citizens of a foreign state with which we are at peace, without commission or authority from their own or any other government, invade the English territory in a hostile manner, and levy war against the Queen in her realm, we are entitled to treat them as traitors?' The Canadian courts held that we could not, as they had never acknowledged even a temporary allegiance to our sovereign. And of this opinion was Sir William Follett. But, after reading all that is to be found on the subject, I come to the conclusion that they owed allegiance when, as private individuals, they voluntarily crossed the English frontier; that it was no defence for them to say that they then had arms in their hands and intended to murder the Queen's subjects."—Life of Lord Campbell, ii.,119. It certainly would have been no defence; but would it not have taken their conduct from under the definition of treason, and made it an act of piracy?]

[Footnote 255: See Fox's words, quoted by Lord Stanhope.—Life of Pitt, ii., 90.]

[Footnote 256: A couple of years after the period which is the boundary of the present work, this Canadian constitution of 1841 was superseded by a measure uniting Canada, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick in one federal government, with, as the act recites, "a constitution similar in principle to that of the United Kingdom." The act farther provided for the admission of other dependencies of the crown in North America, Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island, British Columbia, and Rupert's Land into the union, and established as the constitution of the whole one scarcely differing from that of 1841, with the exception that both the Houses of the Legislature—called in the act the Senate and the House of Commons—were to be representative bodies, and that powers were conferred on them so absolutely free and independent, that it was thought necessary to add a clause providing that their "privileges, immunities, and powers were never to exceed those at the passing of the act held, enjoyed, and exercised by the Commons House of Parliament of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and by the members thereof."]

[Footnote 257: Lord Campbell, in his autobiography, puts the transaction, in the phase at which it had now arrived, in a very serious light: "Next came a proceeding which placed me in a most difficult position; and the public never knew the danger which then existed of a convulsion unexampled in our history. The sheriffs sued out a writ of habeas corpus, directed to the Sergeant-at-arms, commanding him to produce before the Court of Queen's Bench the sheriffs of Middlesex, alleged to be illegally in custody, with the cause of their detention. Wilde, the Solicitor-general, was strong for refusing to make any return to the writ, and for setting the Court of Queen's Bench at defiance. Had I concurred in this opinion it would certainty have been acted on. The consequences would have been that the Sergeant-at-arms, even with the mace in his hand, would have been sent to Newgate by the Court of Queen's Bench. The House must have retaliated by committing the judges. The crown would then have had to determine on which side the army should be employed, and for a time we must have lived under a military government" (ii., 129). The noble and learned autobiographer does not explain why it should have been indispensable to employ the army on either side.]



CHAPTER XII.

Sir Robert Peel becomes Prime-minister.—Commercial Reforms.— Free-trade.—Religious Toleration.—Maynooth.—The Queen's University.—Post-office Regulations.—The Opening of Letters.— Naturalization of Aliens.—Recall of Lord Ellenborough.—Reversal of the Vote on the Sugar Duties.—Refusal of the Crown to Sanction a Bill.—The Question of Increase in the Number of Spiritual Peers.—Repeal of the Corn-laws.—Revolution in France, and Agitation on the Continent.—Death of Sir Robert Peel.—Indifference of the Country to Reform.—Repeal of the Navigation Laws.—Resolutions in Favor of Free-trade.—The Great Exhibition of 1851.

The transactions mentioned in the last chapter were among the last events of Lord Melbourne's ministry. He had for some time been aware of his impending defeat in the House of Commons, and, greatly to his credit, had endeavored to make the return to office easier to his successors by the friendly counsels he had given to the Queen on the subject.[258] A dissolution of Parliament in the summer of 1841 only weakened his party, and in September he resigned, and was succeeded by Sir Robert Peel, who, comparatively short as was his tenure of office,[259] found it long enough to establish for himself a reputation as the greatest financier of Europe since the days of Pitt. It may be worth remarking that, in the "Memoirs of the Prince Consort," it is mentioned that in the course of his administration Peel found reason to change his judgment on the question of which House of Parliament it was the more desirable for the Prime-minister to be a member. Canning had more than once asserted his conviction that the public business would be more satisfactorily conducted when the Prime-minister was a commoner, founding his opinion chiefly on the paramount importance of financial questions, the discussion of which is almost confined to the House of Commons, and conceiving it to be supported by the history of the administration of Pitt, from whom, indeed, he had imbibed the idea; and in former years Peel had more than once expressed his concurrence with that view of the subject. But, from papers which were intrusted to him for the execution of his great work, Sir Theodore Martin learned that Peel had subsequently found reason to come to the opposite conclusion, not from any change in his view of the relative importance of the different departments of administration, but solely because "the amount of work imposed upon the first minister in the House of Commons, in addition to what he had to go through elsewhere, was too great for any human strength. In the House of Lords the Prime-minister would escape the necessity for being in a position to vindicate all the details of administration, and to answer the multiplicity of questions on all sorts of subjects, the putting of which has almost degenerated into a vice. He had, therefore, come to the conclusion that it was there he ought to be."[260] And, indeed, the subjects which demanded the care of the minister, and attracted the attention of Parliament, were constantly increasing in number, variety, and importance to the very end of his administration. Not only were the financial difficulties of the country, the depressed state of agriculture and commerce (the result of a succession of bad harvests), sufficient causes for grave anxiety, but the terrible war, of which mention has already been made, which we had now been carrying on for nearly three years in Afghanistan, and which, before the end of this very year, was about to be signalized by a disaster such as had never before befallen a British army, threatened to kindle the flames of war in Europe also, from the share which the intrigues of Russia had had in fomenting the quarrel; and the same danger was more than once in the course of the next five years imminent, from the irritation with which France regarded us, and which, commencing in Syria, while Lord Melbourne was still at the helm, lost no opportunity of displaying itself, whether in transactions in the remote Pacific Ocean or the old battle-field of the two nations, the Spanish peninsula; and finally, these embarrassing perplexities were crowned by the appalling visitation of famine, which, at the end of the fourth year of the administration, fell upon Ireland with a severity surpassing any similar event in modern history.

With all these multiform difficulties the new minister grappled with unflinching courage, and with conspicuous success. Peace was preserved abroad, and financial prosperity was restored at home. Into the details of his measures devised for this last-mentioned object, though the leading features of his administration, and those on which his fame chiefly rests, it would be beside the purpose of the present work to enter. It is sufficient to say here that, in the spirit of Pitt's great financial reform of 1787, he revised the whole of the import duties of our commercial tariff, especially reducing the duties on raw material;[261] making up the deficiency so caused by an income tax, which he described as a temporary imposition, since he doubted not that the great increase of lawful trade, which would be the consequence of the reduction of duties, would soon enable the revenue to dispense with a tax to the objections of which he was not blind. In recommending this great change to the House, he laid down as the soundest maxim of financial legislation, in which "all were now agreed, the principle that we should buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest," a doctrine which, when more fully carried out, as it was sure to be, led almost inevitably to the great measure for which his administration is most celebrated, the repeal of the Corn-laws. There could be no doubt that, in the most modified application of it, it struck at the root of the principle of protection, which had hitherto been the fundamental principle of our finance, and made a farther extension of it inevitable.

And, as he had been one of the leading members of the ministry which carried Catholic Emancipation, so he now proceeded on the same path of religious toleration; and, in the session of 1844, successfully recommended to the House of Commons a bill which had already been passed by the Lords, repealing a number of penal acts affecting the Roman Catholics, which, though they had long been practically obsolete, still encumbered, and it may be said disgraced, the statute book, and were, so to say, a standing degradation of and insult to the Roman Catholic body. One of them, passed in the reign of William and Mary, still forbade any Roman Catholic to come within ten miles of London, to have either sword or pistol in his house, or to possess a horse worth more than five pounds. Another, enacted under Elizabeth, still made every Roman Catholic who omitted to take certain oaths guilty of high-treason, though no attempt to administer those oaths had been made since the Revolution. Another, of the time of Charles I., deprived any Roman Catholic who should send his son to a foreign school of all protection of the law; he could neither sue nor defend an action. It may fairly be said that the credit of Parliament and of the nation was concerned in the abrogation of laws so ridiculously oppressive, and not the less obnoxious for being practically invalid. And in the same spirit another measure was framed and carried by the Lord Chancellor, whose object was the confirmation of religious endowments belonging to different sects of Protestant Dissenters, and their protection from vexatious and unjust litigation, by making a continued possession of any kind of endowment or property for twenty years a valid title.

These enactments may be regarded as indispensable supplements to the repeal of the Test Act and Catholic Emancipation. They were the coping-stone of the great edifice of religious toleration, of which the former acts had laid the foundation. And the next year Peel carried out still farther the same principle, by a measure which could not fail to be regarded as an especial boon in Ireland, since the great majority of the population of that kingdom were of the Roman Catholic persuasion. It has been seen that when the troubled state into which the Continent was thrown by the French Revolution threw hinderances in the way of the Irish students designed for the Roman Catholic priesthood going to one of the great Continental colleges, such as St. Omer or Salamanca, for their education, Pitt established for them a college at Maynooth, for the endowment of which Parliament was annually asked for a grant of about L9000. The sum had long been felt to be altogether inadequate to the requirements of the foundation. As early as the year 1807, Lord Liverpool, then Home-secretary, had contemplated a large increase of the grant, though the weakness of the government, then presided over by the Duke of Portland, prevented him from carrying out that and other measures which he had conceived in a kindred spirit. Moreover, the grant was rarely proposed without giving rise to a warm debate raised by a party whose too tender consciences forbade them to sanction any measure appearing to foster a religion from which they dissented. And to remedy the two evils (the one arising from the want of a sufficient provision, the other from the spirit of religious controversy, for which the House of Commons was certainly very ill-calculated), Peel, in 1845, proposed to treble the grant, so as to put the college on a more satisfactory footing, by providing sufficient incomes for the professors, and a revenue adequate to the respectable maintenance of an increased number of pupils; and also to place the charge for the future on the Consolidated Fund, by which step its yearly discussion in Parliament would be altogether avoided. The measure was vigorously resisted, partly on the religious ground already mentioned, and partly by an argument, urged with some plausibility, that the design with which the college had originally been founded had not been realized; that, in fact, it had not proved a benefit to the country, but rather the reverse, by tempting into the service of the Roman Catholic Church a humbler and poorer class of students than could devote themselves to it when the preliminary education involved the expense of a protracted residence in a foreign country. But the obvious advantages of the change prevailed over these considerations, and the bill was carried by large majorities.[262]

And now that the long cessation of controversy on the subject—which, indeed, has been not the least beneficial fruit of this bill of 1845—permits a candid consideration of it in all its bearings, it will probably be thought that Parliament had not often come to a wiser decision, one more dictated by judicious liberality of sentiment, and more imperatively required on every ground of statesman-like policy. If the countervailing objections and advantages be calmly weighed, it may almost be said that there was no alternative between enlarging the endowment and putting it on a new footing, or suppressing the college altogether. In its existing condition it was notoriously inadequate to fulfil the design of its founder; and any establishment visibly inadequate to its design tends to bring the design itself into some degree of contempt. Yet even if it should be granted that there might have been no fair ground of complaint if the college had never been founded, to close it after its benefits, however scanty, had been enjoyed for half a century, could not fail to have been regarded as an unpardonable injustice and injury. The other alternative, therefore, was practically the only one that remained; and in embracing it Peel was but carrying out the original principle on which the college was founded. It had been intended to be efficient; through lack of means it had proved inefficient. The obvious and just remedy was to supply such increased means as to create or bestow the efficiency originally aimed at. And it was a felicitous idea to place the charge for the future on such a footing as to combine with such an increase an avoidance of the irritation which its yearly discussion had never failed to excite.

And at the same time, to carry still farther the principle of religious toleration, or rather of religious equality, he induced the Parliament to found a new university, consisting of three colleges, one in each of the three provinces of Ulster, Munster and Connaught (Leinster, as having Trinity College and Maynooth, being regarded as already sufficiently provided with university education), which should be open to students of every religious denomination, and at which, while every kind of secular education, both literary and scientific, should be given, the stirring up of religious controversy and animosity should be guarded against, by the absence of any theological professorships. He did not, indeed, design that the still greater benefits of religious education should be withheld from the pupils, but he proposed to provide for that object by confiding their religious education to the care of the clergy of each persuasion, some of whom in each town which was the seat of a college—Belfast, Cork, and Galway—might be trusted for willingness to superintend it. It was hoped that one fruit of this scheme, and that by no means its least valuable result, would be that the association of pupils of various creeds in their studies and amusements from an early age would lead them to maintain, in their more mature years, the harmony of which the foundation had thus been laid in their youth; and that thus the religious animosities which were the principal obstacle to the prosperity of the country would be softened, and in time extinguished. And this object has been achieved to a great extent, though the disfavor with which the Roman Catholic Church regards any educational system which is not under the superintendence of its priesthood has prevented the scheme from attaining the full development which was hoped for. The number of students of each of the principal sects—the Church of Ireland, the Roman Catholics, and the Presbyterians—steadily increases.[263] Members of each religious body are among the professors in each college, and all accounts represent the most perfect harmony and cordiality as existing throughout the whole body.

Yet, important as was the principle contained in these measures, none of them, perhaps, caused such excitement at the moment as an exercise by the government of what was, in point of fact, one of its most ancient, as well as most essential, powers: the occasional opening of letters which passed through the post, in compliance with a warrant of the Secretary of State. England had at all times been the refuge of those unquiet spirits who, in pursuit of their schemes of rebellion and revolution, had incurred the displeasure of their own governments, and had too easily found accomplices here. And in the course of the summer some notorious offenders of this class found a member of the House of Commons to present a petition, in which they complained that some letters which they had posted had been stopped and opened by the officers of the Post-office. The member who presented the petition appears to have fancied it an unprecedented and wholly unlawful exercise of authority; but Sir James Graham, the Home-secretary, not only at once avowed that the statement was true, and that he had issued his warrant for the opening of the letters mentioned, but also showed that the power to issue such an order was reserved to the Secretary of State in all the statutes which regulated the proceedings of the Post-office. The clause in the act which conferred the power had been originally framed by Lord Somers, a statesman certainly as little open as any of his time to the suspicion of desiring to encroach on the rightful liberty of the subject; and it had been exercised from time to time in every reign since the Revolution. It was a power intrusted to the Secretaries of State for the public safety, and exercised by them on their own responsibility. The practice and its justification were assailed in both Houses of Parliament by members of the extreme Liberal party; but, though no distinct motion on the subject was made, the general feeling of both Houses was plainly evinced, that it was a power which might at times be highly useful for the prevention of crime, or for the hinderance of conspiracies which might be dangerous to the general welfare and tranquillity, and that the constitutional responsibility attaching to every minister for every official act was a sufficient security against its being improperly used.[264]

And it will, probably, be generally admitted that this was the statesman-like view of the subject. There is no doubt that the practice in question does infringe the great constitutional right of every individual in these kingdoms to absolute freedom of communication with his friends. But the most important and the most cherished constitutional rights must possess something of elasticity. It must be necessary at times to go back to the original object for which those rights have been conferred and secured. That original object is the safety and welfare of the whole body corporate—of the entire nation. And if that safety and welfare at times require the sacrifice, a wise ruler will not hesitate to demand it of the people, or to impose it on them for their own good. So another principle of the constitution is the absolute freedom of action for all the subjects of the sovereign; yet that principle is infringed by more than one statute: Factory Acts, which limit the hours of even voluntary labor; Education Acts, which compel the parent to a certain line of conduct toward his children; each in their way substitute another rule for that entire freedom of action which, as has been said before, is the fundamental principle of the constitution; but they make the substitution on the reasonable ground that the course of action which they compel is for the benefit, not only of the individual constrained, but of the whole community of which he is a member, and for whose welfare all laws and constitutions exist.

One of the grounds of complaint against the exercise of this power, which had been alleged by some of the opponents of the government, had been that Sir James Graham's conduct had been dictated by an unworthy subservience to some of the despotic sovereigns of the Continent. The fact was indignantly denied in the House of Lords by the Duke of Wellington; and in the course of the session a remarkable proof was afforded how little influence such motives had on the decisions of our government, when they acquiesced in the passing of a bill which was a virtual repeal of the Alien Act, which had existed for more than half a century, and of which more than one Continental sovereign would certainly have desired the retention. Of late, indeed, it had been so modified, that practically it had become little more than a dead letter; and now, in 1844, without being formally repealed, it was virtually abrogated by an act which enabled all foreigners to obtain letters of naturalization, which conferred on them every right of British subjects, except those of becoming members of Parliament,[265] or of the Privy Council.

Generally speaking, few governments had enjoyed more of the confidence of the nation than Peel's did in 1844; yet in this year it was exposed to two remarkable mortifications. The charter of the East India Company, as framed by Pitt in subsequent events, which has led to the entire extinction of the political power of the Company, makes anything beyond this brief mention of the transaction superfluous at the present time.

The other mortification of the ministry to which allusion has been made fell upon it at home in the Parliamentary discussion of the Prime-minister's financial measures, on which his judgment was usually regarded as pre-eminent, and on which a large majority of the House was generally disposed implicitly to follow his guidance. Sir Robert was not, indeed, himself Chancellor of the Exchequer, that office being filled by Mr. Goulburn, but it was certain that the Budget was inspired by a deference to the Prime-minister's views. And, among the arrangements which it proposed, one consisted of a relaxation of the sugar-duties, which was regarded with dread by those interested in the West Indies, as a farther step in the direction of free-trade, and as depriving them of the modified protection which they were as yet enjoying. To preserve that protection to them, Mr. Miles, the member for Bristol, proposed an amendment which, after an animated debate, was carried by a majority of twenty. Three months before, on the Factory Bill and the question whether the hours of labor should be limited to ten or to twelve, the minister had also found himself defeated, though by a much smaller majority; but in that case the defeat had been the less pronounced from the inconsistency of the votes on the different limits.[266] And he extricated himself from that difficulty by abandoning the bill altogether, and introducing a new one, not without angry resistance on the part of Lord John Russell and other members of the Opposition. They denounced such a manoeuvre as alike unconstitutional and unparliamentary; while he, on the contrary, insisted that the House had always jealously retained the right of reconsidering its own decisions. In that instance, however, the introduction of a new bill might have been regarded as the simplest mode of harmonizing the variety of views which had been represented by the discussion of and votes on the ministerial proposal and the amendments; but no such expedient was practicable in this case, that of the sugar-duties. A defeat on an important clause in the Budget by a majority of twenty was a far more serious matter; it was such a blow as had generally been reckoned sufficient to require a resignation of a ministry. But on this occasion Peel did not feel himself called on to take that step; nor was he inclined to dissolve Parliament, which some regarded as his only legitimate alternative, though he had little doubt that, if he did so, he should be supported by the confidence of the country. After careful reflection, the course on which he eventually decided was to adhere to the principle of a relaxation of duties, but to consent to a moderate variation from his original proposal as to the amount. And in pursuit of this plan, on the next discussion of the Budget, he proposed an amendment to that effect, making the adoption of it by the House a test of its confidence in the administration. Lord John Russell opposed the amendment with great vehemence, pronouncing the acceptance of it, if it should be accepted, and the House should thus consent "to retract its previous vote, a lamentable proof of subserviency, which would disgrace it with the country." What Sir Robert now asked was, substantially, that they should now declare that to be expedient which they had declared to be inexpedient only three nights ago; and Lord Palmerston insisted that the proper course to be taken by the government was to resign; while Mr. Labouchere, who had also been a member of Lord Melbourne's cabinet,[267] though he admitted that there might be "circumstances under which a minister might without impropriety ask the House to reconsider a vote," denied that the present was such a case, and especially denounced the importation of the question of confidence or no confidence in the ministry into the discussion as "dangerous and unconstitutional." Another section of the Opposition agreed in taking the same line; Mr. Disraeli (then beginning to lay the foundations of his reputation and influence) strongly denouncing the conduct of the minister, as degrading both to his own supporters and still more to the whole House, and recommending him to say frankly to both, "We have gauged your independence, and you may have a semblance of parliamentary freedom as far as this point, but the moment you go farther, you must either submit to public disgrace, or we must submit to private life." The end of the discussion was, that the minister prevailed by a majority a trifle larger than that which had defeated him before. This is not the place to discuss the difference between one principle of taxation and another; but the question whether a minister when defeated is justified in asking either House of Parliament to reconsider its vote, seems one that could only have been raised in a House under the influence of unusual excitement of some kind. The charge that such a request was unconstitutional only serves to show how loosely the words "constitution" and "unconstitutional" are often used even by those from whom precision of language might most be expected; for Sir Robert Peel's proposal that the House should retract its vote was not unprecedented, the very same demand having been made in 1833 by Lord Althorp, then Chancellor of the Exchequer of Lord Grey's ministry, of which those very men were members who were now loudest in denouncing the conduct of the present government. And on that occasion it is worth remarking that, though Lord Althorp's demand was resisted in one or two quarters, he was vigorously supported by Sir Robert Peel, on the ground that, though to rescind one night a vote passed on a former one might be not altogether free from objection, it would be a far greater evil that questions of importance should be held to be in all cases finally decided by a single vote, passed, it might be, in a thin House, or in obedience to some sudden impulse.

And this seems to be the view of the case commended not only by constitutional and parliamentary practice, but by common-sense. It would be strange, indeed, when the questions submitted to the British Parliament and the decisions of that Parliament on them are so often of paramount importance to the whole world, if the Parliament should be the only body in the world denied the right of revising its own judgments, the only one whose first resolution is so irrevocable that even itself may not change or modify it. To rescind a recent vote is, no doubt, as Sir Robert Peel said, a step not wholly free from objection. It should be an exceptional act, as one which, if often repeated, would give an appearance of capricious fickleness and instability to the opinions of Parliament, calculated to impair that respect for it which the whole state and nation are deeply concerned in upholding; but to refuse, under any circumstances, to confess a change of judgment, would lay the Parliament open to an imputation at least equally dangerous to that respect—that of an obstinacy which refuses to confess the possibility of being mistaken, or to hear reason. It would not be well, therefore, that the abrogation of a previous vote should become an ordinary practice; but it would be equally undesirable that any fixed or unchangeable rule should be interposed to prevent a second discussion of an important question, with the possibility of its leading to a reversal of the opinion first expressed.

In the same year (1844) the ministers felt compelled to raise a constitutional point of singular refinement, which had the effect of arresting the progress of a bill, in which one part of the kingdom took a lively interest, which a division in its favor proved to be fully shared by the House of Lords.[268] It has been already mentioned that in the last year of the preceding reign a bill had passed for creating, when opportunity offered by the sees affected becoming vacant, two new bishoprics at Ripon and Manchester, the incomes of which were to be provided by the union of some of the smaller existing bishoprics, Gloucester with Bristol, St. Asaph with Bangor. But the Welsh regarded with great disapproval any reduction of the number of bishoprics in the principality, and Lord Powis now brought in a bill to repeal so much of the act as provided for the union of two Welsh sees, urging not only their great extent, which he stated at 3000 square miles of very mountainous country, but the fact that the population of North Wales was steadily and largely increasing. The bill, as has been intimated, was favorably received by the Lords, who passed the second reading by a majority of twelve; but, before it could be read a third time, the Duke of Wellington, as leader of the ministry in that House, announced that the bill was one which touched the prerogative of the crown, and therefore could not be proceeded with without the consent of her Majesty, which he was not authorized to express.

As the matter was explained by the Chancellor, Lord Lyndhurst, the manner in which the bill touched the royal prerogative was this: as, during the vacancy of any see, its temporalities belonged to the crown, any alterations in a see affected the direct pecuniary interests of the crown, and he, as Speaker of the House, doubted whether he should be justified in putting a question which so touched the royal prerogative without the sovereign's consent. A committee which was appointed to investigate the case fully confirmed the view thus taken by the ministers, and the bill was dropped.

It was, however, an exercise of the royal prerogative which was received by the House in general with great dissatisfaction. Certainly, since the Civil List and royal income had been placed on their present footing, it was only by a very forced construction that the pecuniary interests of the sovereign could be said to be affected. And it seemed a very insufficient plea for evoking the exercise of a power which, as it was said, had certainly never been exerted before since the accession of the Hanoverian dynasty. Nor was it made more acceptable by the explanation of Lord Brougham, who on this occasion came to the support of the minister, that the refusal of the crown's consent at this stage was "a warning, as it were, a polite and courteous communication between the sovereign, as guardian of the privileges of the crown, and the two Houses of Parliament, that if they passed a certain bill it would not receive the royal assent;" for, though the right to refuse the royal assent to any bill was incontestable, it had not been exercised since the time of William III., and to put it in force for the protection of an imaginary interest of the crown itself would have been so unpopular an exercise of it that no administration could have ventured to advise it.

One of the arguments which the Duke of Wellington brought forward in the discussion, and which, probably, contributed to induce him thus to strangle Lord Powis's bill, has had an influence on subsequent legislation. He urged that its adoption—since the resolution to establish bishoprics at Manchester and Ripon was one which every one desired to carry out—would increase the number of bishops, "and thus make an organic change in the constitution of the House of Lords." It is not very clear how the addition of a single spiritual peer could have that effect. But the Duke had dwelt upon the same argument before in the debate on the proposed union of the sees affected, urging that there was such a jealousy of the Church in many quarters, and especially in some of the large towns, that it would be very undesirable to pass any measure the effect of which would be to increase the number of Episcopal peers. Even if there was any general reluctance at that time to see such an increase (a fact which was by no means ascertained), it may be doubted whether it was founded on any sufficient reason. It is not easy to see why, when there is no limit to the augmentation of the number of lay peers, it should be judged impolitic or unjust to make even so small an addition to the number of spiritual peers. At the Restoration the spiritual peers were, probably, more than a fifth of the entire House. From the great number of subsequent creations of lay peers they were now less than a sixteenth, so that there could be no ground for apprehending that a slight re-enforcement of the Episcopal bench would disturb the balance, or give the Church an undue preponderating weight in the decisions of the House. The difficulty, however, such as it appeared to the Duke then, has had such weight with subsequent administrations, that a new principle has been established of creating bishoprics which shall not at first confer seats in the Upper House till their holders become entitled to them by seniority. As they are peers from the moment of their consecration, it may be doubted whether this creation of peers, without seats in Parliament, does not deserve the name of "an organic change in the constitution," far more than the addition of one or two ecclesiastical peers to the Episcopal bench; and also whether it has not established a dangerous principle and precedent; the disconnection of bishoprics from seats in Parliament, in even a single instance, seeming to furnish an argument in favor of the exclusion of the whole order, a measure which, if unjust and injurious to the Church, would be at least equally injurious to Parliament itself, and to the whole state.

But all questions of this kind were presently lost sight of in the excitement produced by the measure which more than any other has stamped Sir Robert Peel's administration with a lasting character, the repeal of the Corn-laws. Many statesmen, even of those who were most in favor of free-trade in other articles of commerce, made an exception in the case of corn, partly from a feeling of the necessity of encouraging agriculture, and partly from a conviction of the danger of in any way contributing to create or increase a dependence on foreign countries for the food of the people. Both Whigs and Tories were generally thus agreed on the necessity of maintaining the principle of protection; the dispute between the two parties being whether it were best achieved by a fixed duty on imported corn, or by what was commonly known as a sliding scale: a scale, that is, which varied inversely with the price of the grain itself, rising as the price in the home market fell, and falling as it rose. In the manufacturing districts a different feeling had prevailed for some years. In the first years of the present reign severe distress in Manchester and others of the chief manufacturing towns had led to the formation of an association whose chief object was sufficiently indicated by its title of the Anti-Corn-law League. At first Mr. Villiers, the member for Wolverhampton, was its principal spokesman in the House of Commons, but at subsequent elections two manufacturers of great eloquence obtained seats, and year after year urged the entire repeal of all duties on corn with great earnestness, though for some time their arguments made but little impression on the House. Their motions were rejected in 1842 by a majority of 300; in 1843 by one exceeding 250; in 1844 by above 200; and in 1845 by one of more than 130 in a much smaller House. But this last division had scarcely been taken when an unprecedented calamity—the almost entire failure of the potato crop, which was attacked in nearly every part of both islands by a new disease, the cause of which is not to this day fully ascertained— suddenly changed the aspect of the subject. To the English farmer and laborer it was a severe loss; to the Irish farmer it was ruin; to the Irish peasant famine. The grain harvest, too, was generally deficient. And it was evident that rigorous measures, promptly taken, were indispensable, if a large portion of the peasantry in the southern and western provinces of Ireland were not to be left to perish of actual starvation. In the face of so terrible an emergency Peel acted with great decision. On his own responsibility he authorized the purchase of a large supply of Indian corn from the United States, hoping, among other indirect effects of such a step, to accustom the Irish to the use of other kinds of food besides the root on which hitherto they had too exclusively relied.[269] And he laid before his colleagues in the cabinet a proposal to suspend the existing Corn-law "for a limited period," a measure which all saw must lead to its eventual repeal. It would be superfluous now to recapitulate the discussions which took place, the various alternative proposals which were suggested, or the dissensions in the cabinet to which his proposal gave birth; the resignation of the ministry, and its subsequent resumption of office, when Lord Stanley and Lord John Russell had found it impossible to form an administration. It is sufficient to say that, as soon as Parliament met, Sir Robert brought forward a bill to reduce the duty on corn to four shillings, a price only half of the lowest fixed duty that had ever been proposed before, that reduction, too, being a stepping-stone to the abolition of all duties, at the end of three years, beyond a shilling a quarter, which was to be retained, in order to acquire an accurate knowledge of the quantity of grain imported. The diminution, however, of this duty was not the whole object of his new measure. It included other arrangements which would serve as a compensation to the agriculturists, by relieving them from some of the peculiar burdens to which the land was subjected; and it contained, farther, a reduction or abolition of import duties hitherto levied on many other articles, especially on such as "formed the clothing of the country," on the fair ground that if the removal of protection from the agriculturist were "a sacrifice for the common good," the commercial and manufacturing interests might justly be required to make a similar sacrifice for the same patriotic object.

Though opposed in both Houses with unusual bitterness, the ministry carried their measure, which, indeed, in all probability, even if the destruction of the potato crop had not come to accelerate the movement, could not have been long delayed, the continual and rapid increase of the population adding yearly strength to the arguments of those who denounced the imposition of any tax which had the effect of increasing the price of the people's food. But, however inevitable it may have been, we are not the less compelled to regard it as indirectly bringing about a great constitutional change, or rather as consummating that which had been commenced by the Reform Bill. Till the year 1832 the territorial aristocracy had exerted a predominating influence in the government of the state. The Reform Bill, which deprived the wealthier land-owners of the greater part of their power at elections, struck the first blow at that influence. The abolition of the Corn-laws inflicted on it a still more decisive wound, by its extinction of the doctrine that there was any such peculiar sacredness about the land and its produce as entitled them to protection beyond that enjoyed by other kinds of property. Placing in that respect the commercial and manufacturing interest on a level with the landed interest, it made us, in a farther and a somewhat different sense from that in which Napoleon had used the phrase, a nation of shopkeepers.[270]

The repeal of the Corn-laws had another result: it divided the Conservative party, and, as a necessary consequence, led to the downfall of the ministry. The same session which witnessed its success in carrying that repeal witnessed also its defeat on a coercion bill, which they regarded as indispensable for the "protection of life in Ireland," where actual murders had reached the appalling amount of nearly three hundred in two years. The ministry at once resigned, and Lord John Russell had no difficulty in forming an administration, now that the question of the Corn-laws was finally settled. It was, however, no bed of roses to which the new ministry succeeded; the famine in Ireland exceeded the worst anticipations; and, though prodigious efforts were made by the government and Parliament to relieve it, though large sums were placed at the disposal of the Lord-lieutenant, aided by contributions from private sources in England to an enormous amount; though the small remnant of the import duty on corn which had been left on it by the measure of the preceding year was taken off, and the navigation laws suspended, in order that no obstacle interposed to the acquisition of food from every available quarter, it was estimated that more than half a million of people perished through actual famine or the diseases which scarcity brought in its train.[271] A severe monetary crisis was one not unnatural result of this distress, so severe that the Funds fell to a price below any that had been quoted for many years, and the reserve in the Bank of England to an amount lower than it had been at any period since 1828. And these difficulties had hardly been surmounted when a new revolution in France overturned the dynasty of Louis Philippe and established a republic. The revolutionary contagion spread to Italy, where, indeed, the movement had begun. The Pope—Pius IX.—who had but lately succeeded to the tiara, was forced to flee from Rome in the disguise of a foreign courier, after his Prime-minister had been murdered by the mob. Germany was scarcely less disturbed. The administration of Metternich, who had governed Austria with authority little less than absolute for nearly forty years, was overthrown in a tumult in which he himself escaped with difficulty from the violence of the populace; dangerous riots took place at Munich, at Berlin, and at the capitals of most of the smaller principalities, and for some time everything seemed to portend the outbreak of a general war, likely to be the more formidable as being a war of the revolutionary and republican against the monarchical principle. Happily, that danger was averted. The only war which broke out between different nations was a brief contest in the north of Italy, which the superior numbers of the Austrian armies and the skill of Marshal Radetsky, a veteran who had learned the art of war under Suvarof nearly sixty years before, decided in favor of Austria, and which in the spring of 1849 was terminated by a peace on less unfavorable terms to Sardinia than she could well have expected. And in the same season tranquillity was re-established even at Rome, which, from the peculiar character of the Papal power, contained special elements of provocation and danger.

But, though peace was thus generally maintained, these various events had produced a ferment of spirits which required some time to calm down, and so greatly embarrassed the government, that in the spring of 1852 Lord John Russell's administration was dissolved, and a new ministry was formed by Lord Derby[272]. But the causes which had overthrown his predecessor remained to weaken him; so that for some time it seemed impossible to form a ministry which afforded any promise of stability. Such a rapid succession of changes as ensued had had no parallel since the first years of George III. Between February, 1852, and February, 1855, the country had no fewer than four different Prime-ministers, a fact which was at once both the proof and the parent of weakness in every administration. Lord John Russell had attempted to procure a factitious support in the country by stimulating a fresh demand for parliamentary reform. A year or two before, he had provoked the dissatisfaction of the "Advanced Liberals," as they called themselves, by insisting on the finality of the Reform Bill of 1832, and by advising his followers "to rest and be thankful" for what had been then obtained. But now he began to advance an opinion that that act required "some amendments to carry into more complete effect the principles on which it was founded." He inserted an intimation of that doctrine in the Queen's speech; and endeavored to give effect to it by bringing in a bill to lower the franchise, having, it seems, persuaded himself that a five-pound franchise would create a more Conservative class of voters.[273] He had scarcely introduced it when the fall of his ministry led to its abandonment; but, though it was coldly received by the House of Commons, the idea was taken up by the other political parties, who can hardly be acquitted of having used the question merely as an instrument of party warfare, trying, with an unstatesmanlike indifference to the danger of re-awakening the old frenzy on the subject, to rouse the nation to take an interest in it; but trying in vain. The nation was no longer in the same temper as it had displayed twenty years before. The Reform Bill of 1832 had been demanded and carried with a frantic vehemence of enthusiasm such as could only have been excited by real defects and grievances. But those grievances had been removed and redressed. And the bulk of the people could take no interest in schemes whose sole end seemed to be either to satisfy the theories of some political doctrinaires or to embarrass an adversary; till at last, as Reform Bill after Reform Bill was framed, brought in, and defeated, or dropped, it became plain, "as the Prince Consort noted in a private memorandum at the end of 1859, that what the country wanted, in fact, was not reform, but a bill to stop the question of Reform."[274] And, at last, the prevalence of this feeling Lord John Russell could not conceal even from himself, but confessed to Lord Palmerston, then Prime-minister, who had always silently discouraged the movement, that "the apathy of the country was undeniable; nor was it a transient humor. It seemed rather a confirmed habit of mind. Four Reform Bills had been introduced of late years by four different governments, and for not one of them had there been the least enthusiasm. The conclusion to which he had come was, that the advisers of the crown of all parties having offered to the country various measures of reform, and the country having shown itself indifferent to them all, the best course which could now be taken was to wait till the country should show a manifest desire for an amendment of the representation."[275]

There was, however, in these years one subject in which the country did take a real interest; that was the development and extension of the principles of free-trade. On that the national view had become so decided that in 1848 the Parliament even abolished the navigation laws, which had subsisted so long, the first act on the subject dating from the reign of Richard II., that the adherence to the principle contained in them of confining both the export and the import trade of the kingdom, with but few exceptions, to British shipping, seemed almost an essential article of the constitution. It was the dearer, too, to the national prejudices, from the sense universally entertained of the paramount importance of maintaining the pre-eminence of our navy, and from the belief that the commercial marine was a nursery for the royal fleets, with which they could not dispense. But latterly the laws had become unpopular even with some of those who had formerly been supposed to derive the greatest benefit from them. Many of our colonies had complained of their operation, and several of the ablest of our colonial governors had recommended their repeal. They had been found, too, to present frequent and considerable difficulties in our commercial negotiations with other countries, and many naval officers of large experience and sound judgment expressed a decided belief that they were of no practical use to the naval service. The result of a long and able debate was that the laws were repealed, with the exception of that portion of them which preserved the monopoly of the coasting trade to our own seamen and vessels, that exception being chiefly dictated by considerations connected with the prevention of smuggling.

The ground on which the ministers relied in proposing this repeal of laws so ancient was that, when protection had been removed from every other trade, those concerned in these different trades had an irresistible claim for its removal from the shipping. And on general principles, both of commerce and statesmanship, the claim was, as they urged, irresistible, unless some object of greater importance still than uniformity of legislation—namely, the national safety, bound up as it unquestionably was in the perpetual pre-eminence of the national navy—required an exception to be made. But for the maintenance of our maritime supremacy it was, as Burke had preached three-quarters of a century before, better to trust to the spirit of the people, to their attachment to their government, and to their innate aptitude for seamanship, which they seem to have inherited from the hardy rovers of the dark ages, and which no other nation shares with them in an equal degree. And if that may safely be trusted, as undoubtedly it may, to maintain the supremacy of our warlike fleets, the preponderance of argument seemed greatly on the side of those who contended that our commercial fleets needed no such protection; to which it may be added that exceptions to a general rule and principle are in themselves so questionable, that the burden of proof seems to lie upon those who would establish or maintain them. But the advocates of free-trade were not content even with this triumph, though it might have been thought a crowning one, and in the course of the next year they succeeded in carrying a resolution which (though Lord Derby and the opponents of the act of 1846 were now in office) was not resisted even by the ministry, being, in fact, the result of a compromise between the different parties; and which asserted that "the improved condition of the country, and especially of the industrious classes, was mainly the result of recent legislation, which had established the principle of unrestricted competition, ... and that it was the opinion of the House that this policy, firmly maintained and prudently extended, would, without inflicting injury on any important interest, best enable the industry of the country to bear its own burdens, and would thereby most surely promote the welfare and contentment of the people." Such a resolution was, in fact, the adoption of free-trade as the permanent ruling principle of all future commercial legislation. And even before the adoption of this resolution, the feeling in favor of free-trade had been greatly strengthened by the Great Exhibition, which not only delighted the world for six months with a spectacle of such varied and surpassing beauty as even its original projector, the Prince Consort, had not pictured to himself, but which had also the farther and more important effect of instructing the British workman in every branch of manufacture, by bringing before his eyes the workmanship of other nations; and, as we may well believe (though such a result is not so easily tested), of improving the mutual good-will between rival nations, from the respect for each which the experience of their skill and usefulness could not fail to excite.