It was, therefore, with the almost unanimous approval of both parties that the bill framed for the suppression of the Association was received. The framing of such a bill was not unattended by difficulties, as Peel acknowledged,[206] since "no one wished to declare that every political meeting was illegal;" while at the same time it was necessary to guard against "having its enactments evaded, since a more dangerous precedent than the successful evasion of acts of the Legislature could scarcely be conceived." But the measure, as it was proposed, skilfully steered clear of these difficulties. It met them by intrusting "the enforcement of the law to be enacted to one person alone." The bill proposed "to give to the Lord-lieutenant, and to him alone, the power of suppressing any association or meeting which he might think dangerous to the public peace, or inconsistent with the due administration of the law; together with power to interdict the assembly of any meeting of which previous notice should have been given, and which he should think likely to endanger the public peace, or to prove inconsistent with the due administration of the law." And farther, "to interdict any meeting or association which might be interdicted from assembling, or which might be suppressed under this act, from receiving and placing at their control any moneys by the name of rent, or any other name." But the act was not to be one of perpetual duration. It could not be concealed that such a prohibition or limitation of the general right of public meeting and public discussion was a suspension of a part of the constitution; and therefore the ministers were content to limit its operation "to one year and the end of the then next session of Parliament," feeling "satisfied that there would be no objection to continue it, if there should be any necessity for its continuance." And this limitation was a substantial mitigation of its severity. It made the bill, as Mr. Stanley correctly described it, "not a permanent infringement on the constitution, but a temporary deviation from it, giving those powers which were necessary at the moment," but not maintaining them an hour longer than they were necessary.

And this seems to be the course most in accordance with the spirit of the constitution, with former practice, with common-sense. Deeds which violate the letter of the law can be dealt with by the law. But actions or courses of action which, even if they may be thought to overstep the law, transgress it so narrowly as to elude conviction, can only be reached by enactments which also go in some degree beyond the ordinary law; and, so going beyond it, are to that extent encroachments on the ordinary privileges and rights of the subject, and suspensions of the constitution. But the very term "suspension" shows that the power conferred is but temporary, otherwise it would be synonymous with abrogation. And all parties may wisely agree, as they did in this instance, to a temporary suspension of the people's rights, though there would be none to whom their permanent abrogation would not be intolerable.

The bill, then, for the suppression of the Association passed with universal approval, and it may be regarded as furnishing a model for dealing with similar associations, if ever they should arise. And as soon as it was passed Mr. Peel introduced the greater measure, that for the repeal of the disabilities. In drawing the necessary bill the ministers had had two questions of special importance to consider: firstly, whether it should be unlimited concession which should be granted, such as would throw open to the Roman Catholics every kind of civil office; and, secondly, whether it should be accompanied by any other measure, which might render it more palatable to its adversaries, as diminishing a portion at least of the dangers which those who regarded the question in a purely political light most apprehended. On the first point it was determined that, with the exception of three civil offices, those of the Lord Chancellors of England and Ireland and the Lord-lieutenant of Ireland,[207] and some of a purely ecclesiastical character, such as the Judge of the Court of Arches, every kind of preferment should be opened to the Roman Catholics.[208] The declaration against Transubstantiation and the oath of supremacy, certain expressions in which were the obstacles which had hitherto kept the Roman Catholics out of office and out of Parliament, were to be repealed, and another to be substituted for them which should merely bind him who took it to defend the King, to maintain the Protestant succession, and to declare that "it was not an article of his faith, and that he renounced, rejected, and abjured the opinion, that princes excommunicated or deposed by the Pope might be deposed and murdered; and that he disclaimed, disavowed, and solemnly abjured any intention to subvert the present Church Establishment as settled by law within this realm, and that he would never exercise any privilege to which he was or might become entitled to disturb or weaken the Protestant religion or Protestant government in this kingdom."[209]

The second question was, it will probably be confessed, even more important. Pitt, who had always contemplated, and had encouraged the Irish Roman Catholics to contemplate, the abolition of their political disabilities as an indispensable appendage to, or, it may be said, part of the Union, had designed, farther, not to confine his benefits to the laymen, but to endow the Roman Catholic clergy with adequate stipends, a proposal which was received with the greatest thankfulness, not only by the Irish prelates and clergy themselves, but also by the heads of their Church at Rome, who were willing, in return, to give the crown a veto on all the ecclesiastical appointments of their Church in the two islands.[210] The justice of granting such an endowment could hardly be contested. The Reformation in Ireland, if what had taken place there could be called a reformation at all, had been wholly different from the movement which had almost extinguished Popery in England. The great majority of the Irish people had never ceased to adhere to the Romish forms, and the Reformation there had been simply a transfer of the property of the Romish Church to the Church of England, unaccompanied by any corresponding change of belief in the people, who had an undeniable right to claim that the state, while making this transfer, should not deprive of all provision the clergy to whose ministrations they still clung with a zeal and steadiness augmented rather than diminished by the discouragements under which they adhered to them.

The policy of granting such endowment was equally conspicuous. No measure could so bind the clergy to the government; and no such security for the loyalty and peaceful, orderly behavior of the poorer classes could be provided, as might be expected from the attachment to the government of those who had over them an influence so powerful in its character and so unbounded in its strength as their priests. And the Duke of Wellington, who had at one time been himself the Irish Secretary, and, as an intimate friend of Lord Castlereagh, who held that office at the time of the Union, had a perfect knowledge of what had been intended at that time—and who was, of course, aware of the very decided favor which the House of Commons had so lately shown to the project—proposed to follow out Pitt's plan in that particular, and to connect a provision[211] for the Roman Catholic clergy with the removal of their political disabilities from the laymen. Unluckily, Peel, who, throughout the whole transaction, was, of all the cabinet, the counsellor on whose judgment he most relied, took a different view of the expediency of making such a provision, having, indeed, "no objection to it in point of principle." But he saw many practical difficulties, which he pressed on the Duke with great earnestness. He argued that for the government "to apply a sum of money to the payment of the ministers of the Church of Rome in Ireland, granting a license for the performance of their spiritual functions, would be a virtual and complete supersession, if not repeal, of the laws which prohibit intercourse with Rome;" and asked, "Could the state affect to be ignorant that the bishop whom it paid derived his right to be a bishop from the See of Rome?" Another difficulty he found in the apprehension that "the admission of the right of the Roman Catholic clergy to an endowment might produce similar claims on the part of the Dissenters in England, who contribute in like manner to the support of their own religion and of the established religion also." He suggested, farther, that, if the Roman Catholic priest were allowed, in addition to his stipend, "to receive dues, Easter offerings, etc., from his parishioners, his condition would then be better than that of the ministers of the Established Church in many of the parishes in Ireland." And, finally, he urged the practical objection, that the endowment would greatly strengthen the opposition to the whole measure, by the reluctance which, "on purely religious grounds," many would feel to the endowment of the Roman Catholic faith, who would yet be inclined to acquiesce in the removal of the disabilities, "on grounds rather political than religious." He was "not insensible to the importance of establishing some bond of connection between the Roman Catholic clergy and the state;" but he believed that the omission of a provision for their endowment "was important to the ultimate success of the government in proposing the measure before them."

It is not probable that the Duke was greatly influenced by the first, or what may be called the constitutional, objection—that any concert with the Papal Court with respect to the appointments or endowments of its clergy would be a violation of the act which prohibited any intercourse with Rome. The removal of the disabilities required the repeal of one act of Parliament; and, if the holding communications with Rome on the subject of clerical appointments should be so construed as to require the repeal of another, it would hardly seem that there could be any greater violation of or departure from the principles of the constitution in repealing two acts than in repealing one. As to the second of Peel's objections, the English Dissenters could not possibly be said to stand on the same ground as the Irish Roman Catholics, since their ministers had certainly never been deprived by any act of the state of any provision which they had previously enjoyed; but their position as unendowed ministers was clearly one of their own making. The possible inferiority in point of emolument of some of the Protestant cures in Ireland to that which might be enjoyed by some of the Roman Catholic clergy could hardly be regarded as the foundation of any argument at all, since no law had ever undertaken, or ever could undertake, to give at all times and under all circumstances equal remuneration to equal labors. But the consideration last suggested was exactly the one to influence such a mind as that of the Duke of Wellington, generally contented to deal with a present difficulty. He was determined to carry Emancipation, because he saw that the Clare election had made it impossible to withhold or even to delay it; and, being so determined, he was desirous to avoid encumbering it with any addition which might increase the opposition to it. At the same time he was far from being sanguine of its effect, "with whatever guards or securities it might be accompanied, to pacify the country or to avert rebellion,"[212] which, in his apprehension, was undoubtedly impending; and, under the influence of these combined feelings, he eventually withdrew that clause from the bill. It was accompanied by another bill, disfranchising the forty-shilling freeholders in Ireland. They were a class of voters sunk in the deepest poverty, and such as certainly could not well be supposed capable of forming, much less of exercising, an independent judgment on political matters. Yet this bill is remarkable as having been the only enactment passed since the Revolution to narrow the franchise. It had no opposition to anticipate from English or Scotch members, and was accepted by the Irish members as the price of Emancipation.

No measure that had ever been framed since the Revolution had caused such excitement in the country; but the preponderance of feeling in its favor was equally marked in both Houses of Parliament. In the House of Commons 320 supported it, while only 142 could be marshalled against it. In the House of Lords 213 divided for it against 109. And in April it received the royal assent.

The general policy of removing the disabilities it is not necessary to discuss here. It is quite clear that the Clare election had rendered it impossible to maintain them. And if some of those who judge of measures solely by their effects still denounce this act, as one which has failed in its object of tranquillizing Ireland, many of those who admit the failure ascribe it to the omission to accompany it by one securing a state endowment for the Roman Catholic clergy, pronouncing it, without that appendage, a half measure, such as rarely succeeds, and never deserves success. However that may be, it is certain that the measure, coupled with the repeal of the Test Act of the previous year, was one which made a great and permanent change in the practical working of the constitution of the kingdom, as it had been interpreted for the last one hundred and fifty years. Of that constitution one of the leading features, ever since the Restoration, had been understood to be the establishment and maintenance of the political as well as the ecclesiastical ascendency of the Church of England. On that ascendency the repeal of the Test Act in 1828 had made the first, and that a great, inroad, and the present statute entirely abolished it as a principle of government. So far as political privileges went, every Christian sect was now placed on a footing of complete equality. But so to place them may fairly be regarded as having been required not only by justice and expediency, but by reasons drawn from the history of the nation and from the circumstances under which these disabilities had been imposed. Before the Rebellion no one was excluded from the English Parliament on account of his religion, whether he was a Roman Catholic, a Presbyterian, or a member of any other of the various sects which were gradually arising in the country. It was not till after the Restoration that a recollection of the crimes of the Puritans, when they had got the upper-hand, and the fear of machinations and intrigues, incompatible with the freedom and independence of the people, which were imputed to the Roman Catholics, gave birth to the statutes depriving both Protestant and Roman Catholic Non-conformists of all legislative and political power. The restrictions thus imposed on the Presbyterians and other Protestant sects had, as we have seen, been gradually relaxed by a periodical act of indemnity. Indeed, after the Union with Scotland, it was impossible with any show of consistency to maintain them, since, as it has been already pointed out, after Presbyterianism had been recognized as the established religion of Scotland, it would have seemed strangely unreasonable to regard it as a disqualification on the southern side of the Border. But, as long as the Stuart princes were from time to time disquieting the government by their open invasions or secret intrigues, no such relaxation could with safety be granted to the Roman Catholics, since it could hardly be expected that they would forbear to employ any power which they might acquire for the service of a prince of their own religion. That danger, however, which ever since 1745 had been a very shadowy one, had wholly passed away with the life of the last Stuart lay prince, Charles Edward; and his death left the rulers of the kingdom and advisers of the sovereign free to take a different and larger view of their duty to the nation as a whole.

It was notorious that the number of Non-conformists was large. In the middle of the last century it had received a considerable accession through the institution of the new sect of Wesleyan Methodists; which, through the supineness of the clergy of the Established Church in that generation, had gradually increased, till it was estimated that the various Dissenting sects in England equalled at least half the number of the members of the Established Church. In Wales they were believed to form the majority. In Scotland three-fourths of the people were Presbyterians; and in Ireland the Roman Catholics outnumbered the Protestants in nearly the same proportion. Taking England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland together, a calculation which reckoned the different sects of Protestant and Roman Catholic Non-conformists united at half the entire population would probably not have erred very widely from the truth.

It must have been the aim of every statesman deserving of the name to weld these different religious parties into one harmonious whole, as far as their civil position went. And measures which had that tendency could not be foreign to the constitution, properly understood. A constitution which confines its benefits to one-half of a nation hardly merits the title of a constitution at all. For every constitution ought to extend its protection and its privileges equally to every portion of the people, unless there be some peculiarity in the principles or habits of any one portion which makes its participation in them dangerous to the rest. It had undoubtedly been the doctrine of Pitt, and of the greater part of those who since his time had held the reins of government, that if any portion of the King's subjects did cherish a temper dangerous to the rest, it was because they were debarred from privileges to which they conceived themselves to have a just right, and that their discontent and turbulence were the fruit of the restrictions imposed on them. In proposing to remove such a grievance Pitt certainly conceived himself to be acting in accordance with the strictest principles of the constitution, and not so much innovating upon it as restoring it to its original comprehensiveness. And so of the measure, as it was now carried, it will apparently be correct to say that, though it did make an important change in the practical working of the constitution, it made it only by reverting to the fundamental principles of civil and religious liberty, to which every subject had a right; which had only been temporarily restrained under the apprehension of danger to the state, and which the cessation of that apprehension made it a duty to re-establish in all their fulness.

But it is by no means clear that in the conduct of the measure the constitution was not violated in one very important point, the proper relation subsisting between a constituency and its representative, by Mr. Peel's resignation of his seat for the University of Oxford. That he was sensible that the act stood in need of explanation is proved by the careful statement of the motives and considerations that determined him to it, which he drew up twenty years afterward. They were of a twofold character. To quote his own words: "When I resolved to advise, and to promote to the utmost of my power, the settlement of that question, I resolved at the same time to relinquish, not only my official station,[213] but the representation of the University of Oxford. I thought that such decisive proofs that I could have no object, political or personal, in taking a course different from that which I had previously taken, would add to my influence and authority, so far, at least, as the adjustment of the particular question at issue was concerned." "I cannot deny that in vacating my seat I was acting upon the impulse of private feelings, rather than upon a dispassionate consideration of the constitutional relations between a representative and his constituents. I will not seek to defend the resolution to which I came by arguments drawn from the peculiar character of the academic body, or from the special nature of the trust confided to its members; still less will I contend that my example ought to be followed by others to whom may be offered the same painful alternative of disregarding the dictates of their own consciences, or of acting in opposition to the opinions and disappointing the expectations of their constituents. I will say no more than that my position was a very peculiar one, that I had many painful sacrifices to make, and that it would have been a great aggravation of them, if it could have said with truth that I was exercising an authority derived from the confidence of the University to promote measures injurious, in her deliberate judgment, either to her own interests or to those of the Church."

No one would willingly censure too severely an act dictated by a sense of honor, even if somewhat overstrained and too scrupulously delicate; but when Mr. Peel speaks of "defending" or not defending his deed, he clearly admits it to be one open to impeachment. And when he forbears to "contend that his example ought to be followed," he seems practically to confess a consciousness that any defence against such impeachment must fail; while the last sentence quoted above involves an assertion that a constituency (in this instance one of the two most important constituencies in the kingdom) could be justified in regarding a measure required by the safety, or at least by the welfare, of the state, as injurious to its own interests; and so far admits a possible severance between the interests of a particular class or body and those of the whole community, which can have no real existence. That, however, is not the point to be investigated here. The charge, as it seems, to which Mr. Peel's deed lays him open is, that by it he lowered the position and character of a member of Parliament from those of a representative to those of a delegate. It was an adoption of the principle laid down for his own guidance by a colleague of Mr. Burke above fifty years before, and indignantly repudiated by that great political philosopher, as proceeding from an entire misapprehension of the rights of a constituency and of a member[214] of Parliament. He told the electors of Bristol that "when they had chosen their member, he was not a member of Bristol, but a member of Parliament; and that if the local constituent should have an interest, or should form an opinion, evidently opposite to the real good of the rest of the community, the member for that place ought to be as far as any other from any endeavor to give it effect;" that a representative "owes to his constituents, not his industry only, but his judgment, and betrays instead of serving them, if he sacrifices it to their opinion." And in so saying he carried with him the concurrence and approval of all his contemporaries whose sentiments on such a question were entitled to weight.

In the States-general of France each member was, by the original constitution of that body, a delegate, and not a representative. He could not even remonstrate against the most oppressive grievance of which the previous instructions of the constituent body had not instructed him to complain; and this limitation of his duties and powers was, undoubtedly, one very principal cause which led to the States-general so rapidly falling into utter disrepute. It was no light thing to take a step which had a tendency to bring down the British Parliament to the level of the despised and long-disused States-general. And it is the more necessary to put the case in a clear and true light, because at the present day there is an evident disposition on the part of constituencies to avail themselves of Peel's conduct in this instance as a precedent, in spite of his protest against its being so regarded, and to fetter their representatives with precise instructions; and a corresponding willingness on the part of candidates to purchase support at elections by a submissive giving of pledges on a variety of subjects, so numerous as to leave themselves no freedom of judgment at all. On the great majority of subjects which come before Parliament, a member of Parliament, if he be a sensible and an honest man, has a far better opportunity of obtaining correct information and forming a sound opinion than can be within reach of any constituency, whose proneness to misjudge is usually in exact proportion to the magnitude of its numbers. Every elector justifiably may, and naturally will, seek to ascertain that between the candidate whom he supports and himself there is a general conformity of opinion; an absolute identity he will never find, and he has no right to ask.[215]

Notes:

[Footnote 182: L118,776,000. Alison, c. lxxvi.]

[Footnote 183: See Lord Malmesbury's account of their first interview.—Diaries of Lord Malmesbury, iii., 218.]

[Footnote 184: "Parliamentary Debates," series 2, ii., 632.]

[Footnote 185: Mr. Brougham gave his opinion that if the Duke of York, or any other member of the royal family, had been named, it would have been offensive to the Queen; but the measure adopted he regarded as of a neutral character. (Mentioned by Lord Liverpool, "Life of Lord Liverpool," iii., 55.)]

[Footnote 186: "Minutes of Cabinet," dated 10th and 14th February, 1820, forwarded the King by Lord Liverpool ("Life of Lord Liverpool," iii., 35-88).]

[Footnote 187: "Life of Sir J. Mackintosh," by R.J. Mackintosh, ii., 110, 116.]

[Footnote 188: "Lives of the Chief-justices," iii., 171.]

[Footnote 189: In a letter on the subject to Lord Liverpool, the Duke goes the length of calling the proposed bill "an experiment which, should it fail, must entail the dreadful alternative of the entire ruin of the landed interests of the empire, with which he is decidedly of opinion that the nation must stand or fall."—Life of Lord Liverpool, iii., 434.]

[Footnote 190: At one time it was the fashion with writers of the Liberal party to represent Lord Liverpool as led by Lord Castlereagh in the earlier, and by Canning in the later, part of his administration; but Lord Liverpool's correspondence with both these ministers shows clearly that on every subject of foreign as well as of home policy he was the real guide and ruler of his cabinet. Even the recognition of the independence of the South American provinces of Spain—which is so often represented as exclusively the work of Canning—the memorandum on the subject which Lord Liverpool drew up for the cabinet proves that the policy adopted was entirely his own, and that as such he adhered to it resolutely, in spite of the avowed disapproval of the Duke of Wellington and the known unwillingness of the King to sanction it; and it may be remarked (as he and Lord Castlereagh have sometime been described as favoring the Holy Alliance), that the concluding sentence of his letter to the Duke on the subject expresses his hostility, not only to that celebrated treaty, but to the policy which dictated and was embodied in it. (See Lord Liverpool's memorandum for the cabinet and letter to the Duke of Wellington, December 8, 1824.)—Life of Lord Liverpool, iii., 297-305.]

[Footnote 191: See ante, p. 222.]

[Footnote 192: "With much prudence or laudable disinterestedness," says Hallam ("Constitutional History," ii., 532).]

[Footnote 193: The last time had been in 1790, when there had been a majority of 187 against it.—Peel's Memoirs, i., 99.]

[Footnote 194: 237 to 193.]

[Footnote 195: "Peel's Memoirs," i., 68.]

[Footnote 196: "Wellington's Civil Despatches," iv., 453.]

[Footnote 197: See his letter to Peel, March 23 ("Peel's Memoirs," i., 92-100).]

[Footnote 198: The entry of this bill in Cobbett's "Parliamentary History" is: "The House of Commons testified a very extraordinary zeal in unravelling the Popish Plot, and, to prevent mischief in the interval, passed a bill to disable Papists from sitting in either House of Parliament," to which the Lords, when the bill came up to their House, added a proviso exempting the Duke of York from its operation. An. 1678; October 26 to November 21.—-Parliamentary History, iv., 1024-1039.]

[Footnote 199: In the House of Commons the majority for Sir F. Burdett's resolution was six—372 to 266. But, in the House of Lords, Lord Lansdowne, moving the same resolution, was defeated by forty-five—182 to 137.]

[Footnote 200: See Fitzgerald's letter to Peel ("Peel's Memoirs," i., 114).]

[Footnote 201: "Peel's Memoirs," i., 121.]

[Footnote 202: See "Lord Anglesey's Letters," ibid., pp. 126, 147.]

[Footnote 203: As early as the year 1812, on the negotiations (mentioned in a former chapter) for the entrance of Lord Grenville and Lord Grey into the ministry, the Duke of York mentioned to both those noblemen that the Regent had an insuperable objection to the concession of Emancipation. And it seems probable that it was the knowledge of his sentiments on that point that greatly influenced the course which Lord Liverpool subsequently pursued in regard to that question.—See Life of Lord Liverpool, i, 381.]

[Footnote 204: Speech on moving the second reading of the bill in the House of Lords, February 19, 1829 ("Hansard," xx., 389).]

[Footnote 205: Speech on the first reading of the bill, February 10 ("Hansard," xx., 208).]

[Footnote 206: Speech on the first reading ("Hansard," xx., 198).]

[Footnote 207: An amendment was proposed by Lord Chandos to add the office of Prime-minister to these three, on the ground that if a Roman Catholic were Prime-minister "he might have the disposal of all the patronage of the state and the Church vested in his hands." But Mr. Peel pointed out that the law of England "never recognized any such office as that of Prime-minister. In the eyes of the law the ministers were all on an equality." And the position, such as it was, being a conventional one, was not necessarily connected with the office of First Lord of the Treasury. "In a recent instance his late right honorable friend, Mr. Canning, had determined to hold the office of Prime-minister with that of Secretary of State. And when Lord Chatham was Prime-minister, he did not hold the office of First Lord of the Treasury." At the same time he explained that the impropriety of intrusting a Roman Catholic with Church patronage was already guarded against in the bill, a clause of which provided that "it should not be lawful for any person professing the Roman Catholic religion directly or indirectly to advise the crown in any appointment to or disposal of any office or preferment, lay or ecclesiastical, in the united Church of England and Ireland, or of the Church of Scotland."—Hansard, xx., 1425.]

[Footnote 208: Many years afterward the restriction as to the Lord Chancellorship of Ireland was abolished.]

[Footnote 209: The plan which Pitt had intended to propose was to substitute in lieu of the Sacramental test a political test, to be imposed indiscriminately on all persons sitting in Parliament, or holding state or corporation offices, and also on all ministers of religion, of whatever description, etc., etc. This test was to disclaim in express terms the sovereignty of the people, and was to contain an oath of allegiance and "fidelity to the King's government of the realm, and to the established constitutions of Church and state."—Letter of Lord Grenville, given in Courts and Cabinets of George III., and quoted by Lord Stanhope, Life of Pitt, iii., 270. This plan seems very preferable to that now adopted, since it removed every appearance of making a distinction between the professors of the different creeds, when the same oath was to be taken by all indifferently.]

[Footnote 210: The question had been discussed with the highest Papal authorities more than once since the beginning of the century. In 1812 Mgr. Quarantotti, the prelate who, during the detention of the Pope in France by Napoleon, was invested with the chief authority in ecclesiastical affairs at Rome, in a letter to the Vicar-apostolic, Dr. Poynter, formally announced the consent of the Papal See to give the King a veto on all ecclesiastical appointments within the United Kingdom; and, after his return to Rome, Pio VII. himself confirmed the former title by a second addressed, by his instructions, to the same Dr. Poynter, which letter, in 1816, was read by Mr. Grattan in the House of Commons, it being throughout understood that this concession of the veto to the King was conditional on the abolition of the disabilities and the endowment of the priesthood. And in 1825, after Lord Francis Egerton's resolution had been carried in the House of Commons, Dr. Doyle, one of the most eminent of the Roman Catholic bishops in Ireland, in an examination before a committee of the House of Lords, expressed the willingness of the Roman Catholic clergy to accept a state provision, if it were permanently annexed to each benefice, and accompanied with a concession of an equality of civil rights to the Roman Catholic laity.—See Life of Lord Liverpool, ii, 145; Diary of Lord Colchester, March 17, 1835, iii., 373; Peel's Memoirs, i., 306, 333 seq.]

[Footnote 211: The sum to be thus employed seems to have been intended to be L300,000 a year.—Peel's Memoirs, i., 197. On the whole question of the payment and Peel's objections to it, see ibid., pp. 197, 306.]

[Footnote 212: See his "Civil Despatches," iv., 570. In February, 1829, he said to Lord Sidmouth, "It is a bad business, but we are aground." "Does your Grace think, then," asked Lord Sidmouth, "that this concession will tranquillize Ireland?" "I can't tell; I hope it will," answered the Duke, who shortly discovered, and had the magnanimity to admit, his mistake.—Life of Lord Sidmouth, iii., 453. It is remarkable that the question of endowing the Roman Catholic clergy was again considered by Lord John Russell's ministry in 1848. A letter of Prince Albert in October of that year says, with reference to it: "The bishops have protested against Church endowment, being themselves well off; but the clergy would gratefully accept it if offered, but dare not avow this."—Life of the Prince Consort, ii., 186.]

[Footnote 213: This first extract refers in part to the proposal which he made to the Duke to resign his office as Secretary of State, and to support the Emancipation as a private member, a design which he only relinquished at the Duke's earnest entreaty. The second extract refers to the seat in Parliament alone.—See Peel's Memoirs, i., 310, 312.]

[Footnote 214: Speech to the electors of Bristol on being declared by the sheriffs duly elected member for that city, November 3, 1774.—Burke's Works, iii., 11, ed 1803.]

[Footnote 215: It is worth pointing out, however, that, as if it were one of the natural fruits of the Reform Bill, the Liberal Committee of the Livery of London in 1832 passed a series of resolutions asserting the principle of delegation without the slightest modification; one resolution affirming "that members chosen to be representatives in Parliament ought to do such things as their constituents wish and direct them to do;" another, "that a signed engagement should be exacted from every member that he would at all times and in all things act conformably to the wishes of a majority of his constituents, or would at their request resign the trust with which they had honored him."—Annual Register, 1832, p. 300; quoted by Alison, 2d series, v., 355.]



CHAPTER IX.

Demand for Parliamentary Reform.—Death of George IV., and Accession of William IV.—French Revolution of 1830.—Growing Feeling in Favor of Reform.—Duke of Wellington's Declaration against Reform.—His Resignation: Lord Grey becomes Prime-minister.—Introduction of the Reform Bill.—Its Details.—Riots at Bristol and Nottingham.—Proposed Creation of Peers.—The King's Message to the Peers.—Character and Consequences of the Reform Bill.—Appointment of a Regency.— Re-arrangement of the Civil List.

One of Pitt's great measures of domestic, apart from financial or commercial, policy having become law, it seemed in some degree natural to look for the accomplishment of the other, a reform of the House of Commons, which, indeed, after the conclusion of the war, had been made at times the subject of earnest petition, being one in which a far greater number of people had a lively interest than that excited by Catholic Emancipation. The Englishmen who had advocated that measure had been striving for the adoption of a principle rather than for a concession from which they could expect any personal benefit, since very few in any English or Scotch constituency were Roman Catholics, or desired to return a Roman Catholic representative. But thousands in every county, including the whole body of citizens of some of the largest and most flourishing towns, felt a personal concern in the attainment of Parliamentary Reform, as the measure which would give them, and which could alone give them, that voice in the affairs of the kingdom to which they felt themselves entitled, but which they had never yet enjoyed.

And before the end of the next session the prospect of the early success of their aspirations was greatly increased by the death of the King. George IV., who in his early manhood had attached himself to the Whigs with an ardor and ostentation altogether unbecoming his position as heir to the throne, had formally separated himself from them after the death of Fox in 1806, and had gradually come to regard their adversaries with a favor as exclusive as he had formerly shown to themselves. But the Duke of Clarence, who now succeeded to the throne, had always shown a leaning toward the Whigs, who of late had been commonly regarded as the reforming party. While the war lasted, and during the few remaining years of the reign of George III., no active steps toward Reform were taken in Parliament; but under George IV. more than one borough convicted of gross and habitual corruption, as has been mentioned, was disfranchised. Grampound was so punished in the time of Lord Liverpool, and its members were transferred to Yorkshire, so as to give that largest of the counties four representatives; and it may be remarked that this arrangement caused the Prime-minister to suggest an improvement in the details of an election—which was afterward universally adopted—when, in reply to a remark on the great inconvenience that was found to exist in taking the poll at once in so large a county as Yorkshire, he hinted at the possibility of obviating that difficulty by allowing polls to be taken in different parts of the county. And, since the Duke had been in office, two more boroughs, Penrhyn and East Retford, had also been disfranchised; though the Reformers failed in their endeavor to get the seats thus vacated transferred to Manchester and Birmingham. With the accession of the new sovereign, however, they became more active. They found encouragement in other circumstances also. Many of those who were commonly called the Ultra Tories had been so alienated from the Duke's government by the Emancipation Act, that they were known to be ready to coalesce with almost any party for the sake of overturning his administration. Moreover, as forty years before, the French Revolution of 1789 had caused great political excitement in England, so now the new French revolution of July acted as a strong stimulus on the movement party in this as well as in other countries; and altogether there was a very general feeling that the time for important changes had come. The Duke of Wellington was not blind to the prevalence of the idea; and, being by no means willing to admit that his own policy of the preceding year had in the least contributed to strengthen it, he conceived it to be his duty to discountenance it by every means in his power; but the steps which he took with that object only invigorated and inflamed it. As Prime-minister, he inserted in the speech with which the new sovereign opened his first Parliament in the autumn after his accession a general panegyric on that "happy form of government under which, through the favor of Divine Providence, this country had enjoyed for a long succession of years a greater share of internal peace, of commercial prosperity, of true liberty, of all that constitutes social happiness, than had fallen to the lot of any other country of the world." And in his own character, a few nights afterward, he added a practical commentary on those sentences of the royal speech, when, in allusion to Lord Grey's expression of a hope that the ministers would prepare "to redress the grievances of the people by a reform of the Parliament," he repudiated the suggestion altogether, avowing that the government were contemplating no such measure, and adding that "he would go farther, and say that he had never read or heard of any measure up to that moment which in any degree satisfied his mind that the state of the representation could be improved or rendered more satisfactory to the country at large than at that moment. He was fully convinced that the country possessed at that moment a Legislature which answered all good purposes of legislation to a greater degree than any Legislature had ever answered them in any country whatever.... And he would at once declare that, as far as he was concerned, as long as he held any station in the government of the country, he should always feel it his duty to resist any measure of Reform when proposed by others."

Such uncompromising language was, not unnaturally, regarded by the Opposition in both Houses as a direct defiance, and the challenge was promptly taken up both in and out of Parliament. It happened that at this moment the ministry was extremely unpopular in the City; not, indeed, on account of his hostility to Reform, but in consequence of the recent introduction by the Home-secretary of a police force in London, on the model of one which the Duke himself, when Irish Secretary, had established in Dublin. The old watchmen had been so notoriously inefficient that it might have been expected that the change would have been hailed with universal approval and gratitude, but it met with a very different reception. Many of the newspapers which had not yet forgiven the passing of Catholic Emancipation made it a ground for the strongest imputations on the Duke himself, some of them even going the length of affirming that he aimed at the throne, and that the organization of this new force was the means on which he reckoned for the attainment of his object. No story is too gross for the credulity of the populace. To hear of such a plot was to believe it; to believe it was to resolve to defeat it; and at the beginning of November the government received several warnings that a plan was in agitation to raise a formidable riot on Lord Mayor's Day, when the King and the Duke himself were expected to dine with the Lord Mayor. The Lord Mayor even wrote to the Duke to suggest the prudence of his coming "strongly and sufficiently guarded," and the result of this advice was certainly strange. The Duke cared little enough about personal danger to himself, but he regarded himself as specially bound by his office to watch over the public tranquillity, and to do nothing that might be expected to endanger it. He was at least equally solicitous that a new reign should not open with a tumult which could in any way be regarded as an insult to the King; and, under the influence of these feelings, he took the responsibility of giving the King the unprecedented advice of abandoning his intention of being present at the Guildhall banquet. Such a step had an inevitable tendency to weaken the ministry still farther by the comments which it provoked. Even his own brother, Lord Wellesley, did not spare his sarcasms, pronouncing it "the boldest act of cowardice he had ever heard of;" while the Reformers ascribed the unpopularity which it confessed to the Duke's declaration against any kind or degree of Reform; and, to test the correctness of this opinion, Mr. Brougham, who, in the House of Commons, was the most eloquent champion of Reform, gave notice of a motion on the subject for the 16th of November. Before that day came, however, the ministry had ceased to exist. On the preceding evening it had been defeated on a proposal to refer to a select committee the consideration of the Civil List, a new settlement of which was indispensable at the beginning of a new reign, and on the morning of the 16th the Duke resigned, not only advising the King to intrust the formation of the new cabinet to Lord Grey—who was universally recognized as the head of the Whig party—but recommending his Majesty also to be prepared to consent to a measure of moderate Reform, which, though he could not bring himself to co-operate in it, he was satisfied that the temper of the House of Commons, if not of the people out-of-doors also, rendered unavoidable.[216] The advice was taken. Lord Grey had no difficulty in forming a ministry in which the Whigs were aided by the junction of several of the more moderate Tories, who had regarded Canning as their leader; and from the very beginning Parliamentary Reform was proclaimed to be the one great object of his government. It would be more correct to call it a Reform of the House of Commons, since there was no idea of interfering with the House of Lords, even in those parts of it which were of a representative character, the Scotch and Irish peers. But, by whatever title the ministerial policy was designated, no one misunderstood what was intended; and as Parliament was, after a few days, adjourned over the Christmas holidays, the recess was spent by a sub-committee of the cabinet in framing a measure.

The great extension of our trade, which was the fruit partly of his wise commercial policy, and partly of the long war; the rapid and prodigious growth of our manufactures, developed by the inventive ingenuity of our mechanics and engineers, had given a consideration and influence to the commercial, manufacturing, and moneyed classes which could not be disregarded. The land-owners, who had previously almost monopolized the representation, no longer constituted the wealthiest class of the community. Pitt himself had raised a banker to the peerage. More recently, men closely connected with the commercial classes had become cabinet ministers, one of whom had even subsequently sacrificed office to his feeling of the propriety of enfranchising a single town, Birmingham. But there were other towns at least equal in importance to Birmingham which were unrepresented, and it was clearly impossible to maintain a system which gave representatives to boroughs like Gatton, Old Sarum, or Corfe Castle—where the electors scarcely outnumbered the members whom they elected—and withheld them from large and opulent manufacturing centres like Manchester, Leeds, and Sheffield. The enfranchisement, therefore, of these towns, and of others whose population and consequent importance, though inferior to theirs, was still vastly superior to those of many which had hitherto returned representatives, was so manifestly reasonable and consistent with the principles of our parliamentary constitution, that it was impossible to object to it. And their enfranchisement unavoidably led to the disfranchisement of the smaller boroughs, unless the House of Commons were to be enlarged to a number which was not likely to tend to the facilitation of business. Indeed, in the opinion of the framers of the bill, the House was already too large, and they proposed to reduce its number by upward of sixty—a step to which it is probable that many of those whose opposition contributed to defeat it subsequently repented of their resistance. Nevertheless, the line adopted by the Duke of Wellington's ministry showed that there was still a large party to whom reform on a large scale was altogether distasteful; and accordingly the bill which, under the influence of these considerations, Lord Grey's administration brought forward in the spring of 1831, gave rise to the fiercest struggles in both Houses of Parliament that had been witnessed for many generations. One Parliament was dissolved; two sessions of that which followed were opened in a single year; once the ministry itself was dissolved, though speedily reconstructed; and three bills were framed, each in some degree differing from its predecessor in some of its details, though all preserved the same leading principles of disfranchising wholly or partially the smaller boroughs; of enfranchising several large and growing towns; of increasing the number of county representatives; and of enfranchising also some classes which previously had had no right of voting. It would be a waste of time to specify the variations in the three bills. It is sufficient to confine our attention to that which eventually became law. Fifty-six boroughs were wholly disfranchised; those in which the population fell short of a certain number (2000), and where the amount of assessed taxes paid by the inhabitants was correspondingly small. Thirty more were deprived of one of their members, being those in which the population was between 2000 and 4000. And the seats thus vacated were divided between the towns which since the Revolution had gradually grown into importance, the suburbs of the metropolis, and the counties, the majority of which were now divided into two halves, each half returning two members, as many as had previously represented the whole. The boundaries of the boroughs, too, were in most cases extended.

More important, perhaps, in its influence on subsequent legislation was the alteration made in the qualifications which constituted an elector. Hitherto the franchise, the right of voting at elections, had been based on property. The principle had not, indeed, been uniformly adhered to in the boroughs, where, as Lord John Russell, in the speech with which he introduced the bill, pointed out, a curious variety of courses had been adopted. "In some," as he described the existing practice, "the franchise was exercised by 'a select corporation;' that is to say, it was in the possession of a small number of persons, to the exclusion of the great body of the inhabitants who had property and interest in the place represented. In ancient times, he believed, every freeman, being an inhabitant householder resident in the borough, was competent to vote. As, however, this arrangement excluded villeins and strangers, the franchise always belonged to a particular body in every town—a body undoubtedly possessed of property, for they bore the charges of their members, and on them were assessed the subsidies and taxes voted by Parliament. But when villeinage ceased, various and opposite courses seemed to have been pursued in different boroughs. In some, adopting the liberal principle that all freemen were to be admitted, householders of all kinds, down to the lowest degree, and even sometimes beyond, were admitted. In others, adopting the exclusive principle that villeins and strangers were no part of the burgesses, new corporations were erected, and the elective franchise was more or less confined to a select body." But all these diversities and varieties were now swept away, and a uniform franchise was established, all tenants whose rent amounted to L10 receiving the franchise in boroughs, while by a kindred amendment, which was forced on the ministers at a very early stage of the measure, tenants at will whose tent amounted to L50 became entitled to vote in the counties.

The arrangements for taking the poll were also greatly changed. Instead of the fifteen days which had of late been allowed for a county election, two were now thought sufficient.[217] In boroughs the time was abridged in a similar proportion, and the arrangement was facilitated by a division of counties into several convenient polling districts, so that no elector should require to travel more than a few miles to record his vote.

This last change was universally accepted as a great practical improvement, from its tendency to lessen the expense of election contests, which had risen to an enormous and ruinous height. But every other part of the scheme was viewed with the greatest repugnance, not to say dread, by the Opposition; and every one of the bills was fought step by step in the House of Commons. The first bill was only carried by a majority of one; the second was absolutely rejected by the House of Lords; and on the third the ministers, after carrying it triumphantly through the Lower House, were defeated in the Upper House on a point of detail, which, though of no great importance in itself, they regarded as an indication that the peers, though they had consented to read it a second time, would insist on remodelling it to a great degree, and, if they were not allowed to do so, would again reject it altogether.

Meanwhile, the people were wrought up to a pitch of frenzy absolutely unprecedented. Never had agitators, among whom some of the ministers themselves were not ashamed to appear, been so unscrupulous in their endeavors to excite discontent. One cabinet minister wrote inflammatory articles in the newspapers; another publicly called the legitimate opposition of the peers "the whisper of a faction." And their exertions soon bore fearful fruit. In London some of the peers who had been most prominent in their objections to the bill were hooted and pelted, and one, Lord Londonderry, was nearly murdered. The King and Queen were insulted by mobs in the Park, some of the rioters even openly threatening the Queen with death, because she was believed to be favorable to the anti-Reformers. In some of the most important provincial towns the discontent broke out into actual insurrection. At Bristol a tumultuous mob, whose numbers were swelled by crowds of the worst ruffians of the metropolis, sought to murder the Recorder, Sir Charles Wetherall, when he came down to that city to hold the quarter-sessions; and, when defeated in their attack on him, stormed the Mansion House, and set it, with the Bishop's Palace and other public buildings, and scores of private houses, on fire, several of the rioters themselves, who had got drunk, perishing in the flames. A similar mob rose in arms at Derby, but did less mischief, as there the magistrates knew their duty better. But Nottingham almost equalled Bristol in its horrors. Because the Duke of Newcastle was a resolute anti-Reformer, a ferocious gang attacked and set on fire the fine old Castle; and, not content with committing fearful ravages in the town, roamed over the adjacent district, attacked the houses of many of the leading country gentlemen, plundering and burning the dwellings, and in more than one instance murdering some of the inhabitants.

The King had hitherto borne himself between the contending parties in the state with scrupulous fairness to both. Though, he had, probably, been taken by surprise by the sweeping character of the changes his ministers had proposed, he had given them a frank support, consenting, even at a moment's notice, to dissolve the Parliament after the unfavorable division in the House of Commons on the first bill; but he had, at the same time, warned them that he would never consent to employ any means of coercion to overbear the free decision of the House of Lords. And he had more than once rejected as unconstitutional their solicitations to allow them to make peers with that object. At last they endeavored to compel his consent by resigning their offices, though the ground for so decided a step can hardly be deemed sufficient, since the provocation which they alleged was only Lord Lyndhurst's success in carrying an amendment to take the enfranchising clauses of the bill before those of disfranchisement, so as to give the latter a more gracious appearance, as if the boroughs to be extinguished were made to suffer, not so much for their own positive unworthiness as in order to make room for others which had become of undeniably greater importance. The King took the strictly constitutional line of accepting their resignation and intrusting the Duke of Wellington with the task of forming a new administration, warning the Duke, at the same time, that he considered himself now pledged to grant a large measure of Reform; but the Duke found the task impracticable, and then, as the only means of averting farther insurrectionary tumults, which bore no slight resemblance to civil war, and might not impossibly end in it, the King did at last consent to permit the creation of a sufficient number of peers to insure the passing of the bill. But he could not overcome his repugnance to the measure as a severe blow to the constitution—one which would in effect be tantamount to the extinction of the independence of the Upper House as a legislative body; and, thinking no means unjustifiable that would avert the necessity of such a creation, he conceived the idea of authorizing his private secretary, Sir Herbert Taylor, to request the chief peers on the Opposition side to absent themselves from the division on the third reading. It seemed to him, and indeed to many of them, the only thing that could be done. Their judgment of the character and eventual consequences of the ministerial bill was unaltered; but they saw the violence of the public feeling on the subject, and the danger to the state of too stubborn and uncompromising a resistance to it, and, yielding loyal obedience to their royal master's wish, they retired from the House without voting. Those who remained passed the bill, and in the beginning of June, 1832, it became law.

We have ventured in a previous chapter to call in question the propriety of the conduct of the King's father, George III., in using his personal entreaties to influence the House of Lords against the India Bill of Mr. Fox. The transaction which has been related here is the second and only other instance since the Revolution of a sovereign having recourse to such a device to sway the votes of members of either House. But the circumstances were so entirely different, nay, so diametrically opposite, that an opinion of the impropriety of the sovereign's deed in the former case imposes no obligation on the ground of consistency to censure it in the later instance. The interference of George III. was designed to thwart and defeat his ministers on a measure of which he had not previously intimated any disapproval. William IV., on the other hand, was exerting himself to support his ministers, not, as it seems probable, without some sacrifice of his own judgment. His father acted as he did to avert an inroad on his prerogative and independence, which he had been persuaded to apprehend, but the danger of which can hardly be said to have been proved beyond all question; so that even those who think the result of his action fortunate for the nation cannot defend the action as one that on any constitutional principle can be justified. The son, at a far more critical moment, adopted the course which he did adopt as the only means which he saw of extricating the state and the nation from an alternative of great calamities: the extinction of, or at least a deep wound to, the legislative independence of the House of Lords, by the following of a single precedent[218] which had ever since been universally condemned; or, on the other hand, a continuance of outrages and tumults which had already disgraced the nation in the eyes of the world, and which, if renewed and continued, could not fail to imperil the safety of the state. Such a motive may certainly be allowed to excuse the irregularity of the act.

When, however, we come to consider the proposal to create peers, which drove the King to take such a step, that is a question on which, while it is still more important, it is also more difficult to form a satisfactory judgment. It was denounced by the Duke of Wellington and other peers as utterly unconstitutional and revolutionary; as a destruction of the great principle of the equality of the two Houses; as a denial to the peers of their right to form and act upon their own deliberate judgment; and as a reduction of their position to that of a body existing merely to register the decrees of the other House. Indeed, that it had this character was admitted by Lord Grey himself, with no abatement beyond such mitigation as might be found in the idea that it was only intended to affect their decision on a single question. So far it may be said that even while defending it he condemned it; Habemus confitentem reum. But the task of a ruler or legislator is often but a choice between difficulties, or even between manifest evils. And, even if an act or course be admitted to be intrinsically evil, taken by itself, yet, if the evil which it is calculated or designed to avert be a greater evil still, the defence is complete, or, at all events, sufficient. And this, in fact, is the principle of the justification which Lord Grey alleged. He was, perhaps, unconsciously referring to a passage in Mr. Hallam's great work on "Constitutional History" (then very recently published), in which, while discussing Sunderland's Peerage Bill, and admitting that "the unlimited prerogative of augmenting the peerage is liable to such abuses, at least in theory, as might overthrow our form of government," he proceeds to point out that in the exercise of this, as of every other power, "the crown has been carefully restrained by statutes, and by the responsibility of its advisers;" but that, while "the Commons, if they transgress their boundaries, are annihilated by a proclamation" (that is, by a dissolution) "against the ambition, or, what is much more likely, the perverse haughtiness of the aristocracy, the constitution has not furnished such direct securities.... The resource of subduing an aristocratical faction by the creation of new peers could never be constitutionally employed, except in the case of a nearly equal balance; but it might usefully hang over the heads of the whole body, and deter them from any gross excesses of faction or oligarchical spirit. The nature of our government requires a general harmony between the two Houses of Parliament."[219] In the present case no one could impute the difference between the two Houses to any "perverse haughtiness" on the part of the peers. But the difference existed, and was too deeply founded on the cautious principles of the Tory party to be surmountable by ordinary means. It was certain also that the Commons would not give way; that, without danger to the public peace, they could not give way. And this was, in fact, Lord Grey's contention: that a crisis had arisen in which compulsion must be exercised on one or other of the disagreeing parties; and that coercion of the peers by an augmentation of their number, or a threat of it, was the only compulsion practicable. In upholding this position, however, it must be remarked that he was betrayed into the use of language which was as great a violation of constitutional and parliamentary principle and usage as the action which he was recommending; language, too, which was quite unnecessary to strengthen his argument. He accused the Lords of "opposing the declared and decided wishes both of the crown and the people;" of "acting adversely to the crown;" and this introduction of the sovereign's name to overawe the assembly was unconstitutional in the highest degree. For, constitutionally, the sovereign has no right to signify his opinion, nor, indeed, any recognized means of signifying it but by giving or withholding his royal assent to measures which the two Houses have passed. On any bill which has not yet been passed by them he has, as has been already implied, no legitimate means whatever of expressing his judgment. The time has not come for him to do so. Moreover, the statement was, probably, not believed by any one to be strictly true, for it was pretty generally understood that the King would have preferred a far more moderate measure. But, indeed, in the very speech in which the Prime-minister made this use of the King's name he presently added an observation which was a sufficient condemnation of his previous language. For, in denouncing the "vile attacks which had been made on his Majesty in the public press," and disclaiming all share in them (a disclaimer which however true of himself, could not, it is believed, have been uttered with equal truth by all his colleagues), he pointed out that "it ought always to be recollected that it is contrary to the principles of the constitution to arraign the personal conduct of the sovereign." It follows, as a matter of course, that it is equally contrary to those principles to allege his personal opinions in either House on any measure before it, since, if alleged, they must be open to criticism; unless, indeed, the mere allegation of the royal sentiments were to be taken as decisive of the question, in which case all freedom of discussion would be at once extinguished.

But this irregularity, into which the Prime minister was apparently betrayed by his desire of victory, must not be allowed to affect our verdict on the main question; and, now that the lapse of time has enabled us to contemplate dispassionately the case on which he had to decide, it will, probably, be thought that his justification of his conduct in recommending a creation of peers is fairly made out. That, under any pressure short of that, the peers would have again rejected the Reform Bill, or at least would have pared it down to much smaller proportions than would have satisfied the popular demand for Reform, may be regarded as certain; and equally certain that such a line of conduct would have led to a renewal of disgraceful and dangerous tumults. The minister, therefore, as has been said before, had to choose between two evils. It was a grievous dilemma; but those who had to deal with it (even while it may be admitted that they cannot be held wholly free from blame, as having themselves contributed by their own language to the popular excitement and irritation)[220] may be excused for thinking the wound inflicted on the constitution, by thus overbearing the voice of one House of Parliament on a single occasion, less formidable in its immediate fruit, and more capable of being remedied and retrieved, than that which would have followed from a renewal of insurrectionary tumults, even if they should have come short of actual civil war.

One critic of these transactions[221] whose experience and high reputation entitle his opinion to respectful consideration, after reminding his readers that, "although Parliament is said to be dissolved, a dissolution extends, in fact, no farther than to the Commons, and that the Peers are not affected by it; no change can take place in the constitution of their body, except as to a small number of Scotch representative peers," proceeds to argue that, "so far as the House of Peers is concerned, a creation of peers by the crown on extraordinary occasions is the only equivalent which the constitution has provided for the change and renovation of the House of Commons by a dissolution. In no other way can the opinions of the House of Lords be brought into harmony with those of the people." But it may be feared that this comparison is rather ingenious than solid. Indeed, the writer himself limits such an expedient as a creation of peers to insure the passing of a particular measure to "extraordinary occasions." But a dissolution of the House of Commons is so far from being so limited, that it is the natural and inevitable end of every House of Commons after an existence which cannot exceed seven years, and which is very rarely so protracted. And though it may be, and probably has been, the case that a House of Commons has passed measures to which it had no great inclination, lest it should provoke a minister to a premature dissolution, yet no submission on its part can long postpone it; and a threat or apprehension of a dissolution would certainly fail to overcome the opposition of the House of Commons, or of a party within it, if the measure before them seemed open to serious objection. The presumed or presumable immortality of the one body, and the limited existence of the other, seem to constitute so essential a difference between them as must prevent the measures adopted toward one being fairly regarded as any guide to a justification of those employed in the case of the other.

The Reform Bill of 1832 has sometimes been called a new Revolution, and to some extent it deserved the name; for it was not, like the Catholic Emancipation Act, a mere restoration of privileges to any class or classes of the people which had once been enjoyed by them, and had subsequently been withdrawn, but it was a grant of a wholly new privilege to places and to classes which had never enjoyed it; while it was manifest that the political power thus conferred on these classes involved a corresponding diminution of the powers of those who had hitherto monopolized it. It was also the introduction of a new principle. The old doctrine of the constitution had been, that the possession of freehold property, as the only permanent stake in the country, was the only qualification which could entitle a subject to a voice in the government and legislation of the kingdom. The new doctrine was that, as others besides owners of land contributed to the revenue by the payment of taxes, those who did so contribute to a sufficient amount had a right to a voice, however indirect or feeble, in the granting of those taxes; and so far it was the extension and application to subjects at home of the principle for which Lord Chatham and Burke had contended sixty years before in the case of the American Colonies, that taxation and a right to representation went together; a principle which, many ages before, had been laid down by the greatest of our early kings as the foundation of our parliamentary constitution and rights. But this principle, however generally it may have been asserted, had hitherto been but very partially carried out in practice, and the old borough system had been skilfully devised by successive kings and ministers to keep the political power in the hands of the crown and the aristocracy. It was with that object that most of the boroughs which were first allowed to return members under the Tudors had been enfranchised,[222] a great noble or landholder, whose affection to the government could not be doubted, being often able to obtain the promotion of some village or petty town in the neighborhood of his estates to the dignity of a parliamentary borough, and thus acquiring a great addition to his political and social importance by his power of influencing the election. No one could deny that the existence of such boroughs was an abuse, or at least an anomaly, rendered the more conspicuous as time went on by the denial of representatives to towns which contained as many thousands of citizens as they could boast single burgesses. At the same time it was equally undeniable that the aristocracy, generally speaking, exerted their influence advantageously for the state. A peer or great squire who could return the members for a borough took a worthy pride in the abilities and reputation of those whom he thus sent to Parliament; especially the leaders of the two parties sought out promising young men for their seats; and it has often been pointed out that, of the men who in the House of Commons had risen to eminence in the country before the Reform Bill, there was scarcely one who had not owed his introduction to Parliament to the patron of one of those boroughs which were now wholly or partially disfranchised; while on one or two occasions these "rotten boroughs," as, since Lord Chatham's time, they were often derisively called, had proved equally useful in providing seats for distinguished statesmen who, for some reason or other, had lost the confidence of their former constituents. So, when Bristol had disgraced itself by the rejection of Burke, Malton had averted the loss with which Parliament and the country were threatened by again, through the influence of Lord Rockingham, returning the great statesman as their representative. So, to take a later instance, Westbury, under the influence of Sir Manasseh Lopes, had provided a refuge for Sir Robert Peel, when the course which he had taken on Catholic Emancipation had cost him his seat for Oxford. And these practical uses of these small boroughs—anomalies in a representative system, as they were called in the debates on the subject, and as they must be confessed to have been—were so important, that some even of those who felt compelled by their principles to vote for their parliamentary extinction have, nevertheless, confessed a regret for the sacrifice, lamenting especially that it has, in a great degree, closed the doors of the House of Commons against a class whose admission to it is on every account most desirable, the promising young men of both parties.

In one point of great importance the framers of the Reform Bill of 1832 proved to be mistaken. They justified the very comprehensive or sweeping range which they had given it by their wish to make it a final settlement of the question, and by the expression of their conviction that the completeness with which it had satisfied all reasonable expectations had effectually prevented any necessity for ever re-opening the question. Their anticipations on this head were not shared by their opponents, who, on the contrary, foretold that the very greatness of the changes now effected would only whet the appetite for a farther extension of them; nor by a growing party, now beginning to own the title of Radicals, which till very recently had only been regarded as a reproach, and who, even before the bill passed,[223] expressed their discontent that it did not go farther, but accepted it as an instalment of what was required, and as an instrument for securing "a more complete improvement." And their expectations have been verified by subsequent events. Indeed, it may easily be seen that the principles on which one portion of the bill—that which enfranchised new classes of voters—was framed were such as, in shrewd hands, might easily be adduced as arguments in favor of the necessity of reconsideration of the question from time to time. So long as the right of voting was confined to owners of property, or members of corporate bodies, the line thus laid down was one which was not liable to be crossed. But the moment that tenancy was added to ownership, and a line was drawn distinguishing electors from non-electors, not by the nature of their qualifications, but by the amount of their rent, detail was substituted for principle; and the proposer or maintainer of the rule that the qualification should be a yearly rental of L10 might be called on to explain why, if L10 were a more reasonable limit than L15, L8 were not fairer than L10. Or again, if the original argument were, that a line must of necessity be drawn somewhere, and that L10 was the lowest qualification which seemed to guarantee such an amount of educated intelligence in the voter as would enable him to exercise the franchise conferred on him judiciously and honestly, such reasoning would from time to time invite the contention that the spread of education had rendered L8 tenants now as enlightened as L10 tenants had been some years before. And thus the measure of 1832, instead of forever silencing the demand for Reform by the completeness of its concessions, did in fact lay the foundation for future agitation, which has been farther encouraged and fed by farther submission to it, and which its leaders, who have so far triumphed, show no purpose to discontinue. To discuss whether such extensions of the franchise as have already been adopted, and those farther steps in the same direction which are generally understood to be impending, will eventually be found compatible with the preservation of our ancient monarchical constitution, is a fitting task for the statesmen and senators whose duty it is to examine in all their bearings the probable effects of the measures which may be proposed. But the historian's business is rather "to compile the records of the past" than to speculate on the future.[224] And the course which was too perilous or difficult for Mr. Hallam to undertake we will follow his example in avoiding. But it cannot be denied that, if the Reform Bill of 1832 transferred the chief political power of the state from the aristocracy to the middle classes, a farther lowering of the qualification for the exercise of the franchise must transfer it from the middle to the lower classes; and that those who view such transfer with alarm, and deprecate it as fraught with peril to all our ancient institutions, maintain their opinions by arguments as old, indeed, as the days of the Roman republic,[225] but which have not lost strength by lapse of time, if indeed, they have not been fortified by events in the history of more than one modern nation.

Even before the introduction of the first Reform Bill one measure had been passed of constitutional importance, though the concurrence of both parties in its principle and details prevented it from attracting much notice. Two daughters who had been born to the King and Queen had died in their infancy, and the royal pair were now childless; and, as some years had elapsed since the birth of the last, it was probable that they might remain so. The presumptive heiress to the throne was, therefore, the daughter of the deceased Duke of Kent, the Princess Victoria, our present most gracious sovereign, and, as she was as yet only eleven years of age, it was evidently necessary to provide for the contingency of the death of the King before she should attain her majority. A Regency Bill for that purpose had, therefore, been prepared by the Duke of Wellington's cabinet, and had been introduced by Lord Chancellor Lyndhurst in the House of Lords before the resignation of the ministry. It could not be so simple in its arrangements as such bills had sometimes been, since there was more than one contingency possible, for which it was requisite to provide. It was possible not only that William IV. might die within the next seven years, but also that at his death he might leave a child, or his widow in a state which warranted the expectation of one, the latter case being the more difficult to decide upon, since no previous Regency Bill furnished any precedent for the ministers' guidance.

The first point, however, to be settled was, who was the most proper person to administer the affairs of the kingdom as Regent, in the event of the heiress to the crown being still a minor at the King's death. It was a question on which it was evidently most desirable that no difference of opinion should be expressed. And, in fact, no difference existed. The leaders of both parties—the Duke and his colleagues, who had framed the bill, and Lord Grey, with his colleagues, who adopted it—agreed that the mother of the young sovereign would be the fittest person to exercise the royal authority during the minority; and, farther, that she should neither be fettered by any limitations to that authority, nor by any councillors appointed by Parliament nominally to advise and assist, but practically to control her. It was felt that a Regent acting for a youthful daughter would need all the power which could be given her; while, as she could never herself succeed to the throne, she could be under no temptation, from views of personal ambition, to misuse the power intrusted to her.

At first sight it seemed a more difficult and delicate question what course should be pursued with reference to the possible event of the King dying while the Queen, his widow, was expecting to become a mother. As has been said above, no precedent was to be found in any former bill; yet it seemed to be determined by the old constitutional maxim, that the King never dies. Not even for a moment could the throne be treated as vacant, and, therefore, it was proposed and determined that in such a case the Princess Victoria must instantly be proclaimed Queen, and the Duchess of Kent must instantly assume the authority of Regent; but that, on the birth of a posthumous child to the Queen Dowager, the Princess and the Duchess, as a matter of course, should resume their previous rank, and Queen Adelaide become Regent, and govern in the name of her new-born infant and sovereign. The strict constitutional correctness of the principle elaborately and eloquently expounded to the peers by Lord Lyndhurst was unanimously admitted, and the precedent now set was followed, with the needful modification, when, ten years afterward, it became necessary to provide for the possibility of Queen Victoria dying during the minority of her heir. The parent of the infant sovereign, Prince Albert, was appointed Regent, with the cordial approval of the nation; the dissent of the Queen's uncle, the Duke of Sussex who, with a very misplaced ambition, urged instead the appointment of a Council of Regency, of which he hoped to become the most influential member, only serving to make the unanimity of the rest of the Parliament more conspicuous.

A somewhat kindred question, inasmuch as it affected the personal arrangements, if they may be so termed, of the sovereign, was settled in the same session, and on a new principle. What was called the Civil List had hitherto been placed on a footing which was at once unintelligible and misleading. The expression was first used at the Revolution, and was applied not only to that portion of the revenue which was devoted to the personal expenses of the sovereign, but also to many branches of the civil expenditure of the state, with which, in fact, he had no concern whatever. Not only the salaries of the great officers of the household, but those also of the ministers, ambassadors, and of the judges, were paid out of it, as well as those of many place-holders of various classes, and pensions to a large amount. Amounts embracing such a variety of miscellaneous and unconnected expenses could hardly be expected to be kept with regularity, and there was lavish waste in every department. Burke's bill had rectified some of the abuses, and had also pointed out the way to some other reforms which were gradually adopted; but still numbers of charges were left untouched, and there was scarcely any one subject which afforded more topics to unscrupulous demagogues than the amount of the Civil List, which the ignorant multitude were constantly assured that the King enjoyed to squander on his own pleasures, though, in fact, the greater part of it was expended in the service of the state, and was entirely free from his control. Only a portion of the sum which went under this name was voted annually by the Parliament. A portion was derived from the Crown Lands, from duties known as Droits of the Crown and Droits of the Admiralty, etc., the amount of which fluctuated, and with which Parliament was admitted to have no right to interfere. But the working of the whole was satisfactory to no one—neither to the King himself, nor to those who upheld the right of the Parliament to have a predominant control of every branch of expenditure of the public money. The feeling that the whole of the royal income and expenditure should be placed on a different footing was general, and the fall of the Duke of Wellington's ministry had been immediately caused by the success of a proposal that, before fixing the new sovereign's Civil List, Parliament should refer the matter to a committee, that inquiry might be made into every part of it. Lord Grey's ministry were bound to act in conformity with a resolution on which they had, as it were, ridden into office; and the arrangement which they ultimately effected was one in which common-sense and the royal convenience and comfort were alike consulted. That portion of the Civil List of his predecessor which was voted by Parliament amounted to nearly L850,000 a year; but, besides that sum, George IV. enjoyed the income already mentioned as derived from Crown Lands, Droits, etc., while a farther large sum was furnished by the ancient revenue of the crown of Scotland, and another was received from Ireland. The ministers now proposed that all these sources of income should be handed over to the Treasury, and that the Civil List should henceforward be fixed at L510,000, being at the same time relieved from all the foreign and extraneous charges on it which had invidiously swelled the gross amount, without being in any way under the control of the sovereign, or in any way ministering to his requirements, either for personal indulgence or for the maintenance of the state and magnificence imposed on him by his position.

Such a change was on every ground most desirable. It was clearly in accordance with our parliamentary constitution that grants of money made by the Parliament should express distinctly and unmistakably the objects to which they were really to be applied; and that the charges of departments connected with the government, the administration of justice, or the foreign service of the country, should not be mixed up with others of a wholly different character, so as to make what was, in fact, the expenditure of the nation wear the appearance of being the expenditure of the sovereign. Moreover, the assignment of many of the charges to the Civil List even gave a false character to the appointments themselves. If a sovereign was to pay ambassadors and judges out of what seemed to be his private income, the logical conclusion could hardly be avoided that he had a right to lower those salaries, or even to diminish the number of those appointments. And it may even be said that the less any real danger of such a right being so exercised was to be apprehended, the more unadvisable was it to retain an arrangement which in theory could be described as liable to such an abuse.