a .^IOSANCEI% 3 1 A\\E-l)N!VER5-//i ^l-UBRARY^ ^E-WNIVERi/A. .vlOS-ANCElfj> 1117 i it fnri i irr i THE ORATOR WYMAN AND SONS, ORIENTAL, CLASSICAL, AND GENERAL PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONDON, W. C. THE OEATOE: COMPENDIUM OF ENGLISH ELOQUENCE, COXTAISINU SELECTIONS FUOM Cfxe m0st Celefrmtetr Speecljes 0f % EDITED, WITH SHORT EXPLANATORY NOTES AND REFERENCES, A BARRISTER. "Though the public speaker should die, yet the immortal fire shall outlive the organ which conveyed it, and the breath of liberty, like the word of the holy man, will not die with the prophet, but survive him." GKAXTAX. LONDON: ALFRED THOMAS CROCKER, 303 & 304, STRAND. 1868. Stack Annex to\ PREFACE, TN bringing this work before the public in its present complete form, the Editor believes that he is justified in saying that it will be found to contain within its pages a wider variety of English eloquence than has hitherto been offered in any other book of a similar character. The periodical shape in which the " ORATOR" originally appeared, and the popular purpose with which ifc was composed, have prevented any attempt at chronological arrangement, which might, perhaps, in the opinion of many, have added to the artistic interest of the work; but the carefully prepared Index which now accompanies the speeches will, it is hoped, in no small measure facilitate reference, and so remedy any defect which may have arisen from the miscellaneous nature of the contents. In conclusion, the Editor has to acknowledge his obligations to the many valuable collections of oratory which havo preceded the present attempt in the same field, and of which he has made free and frequent use. Of these he may especially mention Hazlitt's "Eloquence of the British Senate," a work now comparatively rare, but containing much good matter; Dr. Gooderich's " Select British Eloquence," an American volume, admirably selected and arranged; Frank Moore's "American Eloquence," from which two or three of the best specimens of the Transatlantic speakers have been culled; Browne's "British Cicero," and the various standard editions of our older orators. For the many contemporary speeches which form so prominent a feature in this volume, the Editor has to tender his most cordial thanks to several of the leading statesmen and speakers of the present time, who have kindly accorded him full permission to reprint from their published addresses, and in some instances aave themselves corrected the proofs of these pages. THE TEMPLE, APRIL, 1865. CONTENTS. PAG* ALBERT (PRINCE). The Exhibition of 1851 .............................. 1 Character of Sir R. Peel ........................... 94 BRIGHT, JOHN, On the American War 12 BROUGHAM, LORD. '77 ? How to become an Oraipr ........................ 2 " Defence of Queen Caroline ........................ 24 Salutary Innovation ................................. 40 BULWER LYTTON, SIR ED WARD/ .l$0$- Against the Second Reading of Foreign En- listment Bill, 1854 .............................. 245 BURKE, EDMUND. '7 J * - 1 ~11J -'Election Speeches at Bristol ..................... 3, 4 Conciliation with the American Colonies ...... 7 Duty of Representatives ........................... 141 Speech on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts ......... 167 Tremendousness of War ........................... 210 People and Parliament .............................. 225 Marie Antoinette .................................... 232 CALHOUN, JOHN CALDWELL. On Increase of the Army ........................... 252 CANNING, GEORGE. n~l v ~ Speech on the Relations subsisting between Great Britain and Portugal in 1826 CARLYLE, THOMAS. The Conqueror , CHATHAM, LORD. /7^ - If 7 Protest against the American War 121 30 COBBETT, WILLIAM. IJ**- . ^ Address to the Industrious Classes 132 COBDEN, RICHARD. f%0~* , Speech at Exeter Hall, 30th October, 1849... 148 COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR, The Promulgation of Truth 119 CROMWELL, OLIVER. On Dissolution of the Second Protectorate Parliament 23 The Little Parliament 185 CROSBY (LORD MAYOR). At the Bar of the House of Commons on a Charge of Contumacy 152 CURRAN, JOHN PHILPOT. 17 rv - t f~, Employment of Informers by Governmelit... 60 Defence of Hamilton Rowan .. .. 153 DERBY, EARL OF. Estimate of Prince Consort's Chai-acter 110 Speech on Disturbances (Ireland) Bill 268 PAGB DICKENS, CHARLES. ,, Speech at Manchester Athenaeum ............... 20 DISRAELI, BENJAMIN. Character of the Prince Consort ............... 109 DRUMMOND, HENRY/7 #6 ~ Marriage Law Amendment 68 ELIOT, SIR JOHN. Speech in the House of Commons, 1628 ...... 242 EMMET, ROBERT. Speech on his Trial ....... , .......... , ........ . ..... 86 ERSKINE, LORD. Speech on Trial of Lord George Gordon ...... 94 EVERETT, EDWARD. The Character of La Fayette ........... . ......... 10 FOX, CHARLES JAMES, fj +f - Eulogy on the Duke of Bedford .................. 33 On the Russian Armament ........................ 188 FOX, WILLIAM JOHNSON Anniversary of Battle of Waterloo ............ 103 GARIBALDI, GIUSEPPE. The Cause of Freedom in 1864 .................. 119 GLADSTONE, WILLIAM EWART. Extension of the Suffrage ........................ 52 GOUGH, JOHN B. The Cause of Temperance ........................ 184 GRATTAN, HENRY. Ijf-o - Character of the First Earl of Chatham ...... i The Downfall of Buonaparte ..................... 136 HENRY, PATRICK. On the Expediency of Adopting the Federal Constitution .................................... 226 JEFFERSON, THOMAS. Extract from Inaugural Address ............... 118 JEFFREY, LORD. Dependence of Kings .............................. 207 JUNIUS. The Royal Pardon .................................... 143 Other short Extracts from ...... 152, 207, 210, 225 KOSSUTH, LOUIS. Eloquence of Garibaldi .............................. Speech to the Ladies of New York ............ European Freedom ................................. 183 LYNDHURST, LORD. /JTO. _ ' t J A Review of the Session 1839 .................. 203 CONTENTS. f I S*^A PAGE MACAULAY, LORD. '*&* - / ff^J Historical Review of the University of Glasgow 61 MACKINTOSH, SIR JAMES. Speech in Defence of M. Peltier 44 Early Eminence...... 73 MAZZINI, JOSEPH. To the Memory of the Martyrs of Cosenza... 208 MILTON, JOHN. Rights and Responsibilities of the Press 24 Eulogy on Cromwell 115 O'CONNELL, DANIEL. Jy/r - / fr^O Repeal of the Union /. 112 On the Corn Laws.... 278 PALMERSTON, In Defence of his Foreign Policy, 1848 On British Liberty 268 PEEL, SIR ROBERT. (~\^f _ / 1TO Speech at Merchant Tailors' Hall 89 PHILLIPS, WENDELL. Public Opinion on the Abolition Question ... 141 PITT, WILLIAM, ') r. Thus much, however, I think it not amiss *o^j lay before you : that I am not, I hope, apt to " take up or lay down my opinions lightly. I have held, and ever s^liall maintain, to the best of my power, unimpaired and undiminishcd, the just, wise, and necessary constitutional superiority of Great Britain. This is necessary for America as well as for us. I never mean to depart from it. Whatever may be lost by it, I avow it. The forfeiture even of your favour, if by such a declaration I could forfeit it, though the first object of my ambition, never will make me disguise my sentiments on this subject. But I have ever had a clear opinion, and have ever held a constant correspondent con- duct, that this superiority is consistent with all the liberties a sober and spirited American ought to desire. I never mean to put any colonist, or any human creature, in a situation not becoming a free man. To reconcile British superiority with American liberty shall be my great object, as far as my little faculties extend. I am far from thinking that both, even yet, may not be preserved. THE ORATOR. When I first devoted myself to the public service, I considered how I should render myself fit for it ; and this I did by endeavouring to discover what it was that gave this country the rank it holds in the world. I found that our prosperity and dignity arose principally, if not solely, from two sources our constitution and commerce. Both these I have spared no study to understand, and no endeavour to support. The distinguishing part of our constitution is its liberty. To preserve that liberty inviolate, seems the particular duty and proper trust of a member of the House of Commons. But the liberty, the only liberty I mean, is a liberty connected with order; that not only exists along with order and virtue, but which cannot exist at all without them. It inheres in good and steady government, as in its substance and vital principle. The other source of our power is commerce, of which you are so large a part, and which cannot exist, no more than your liberty, with- out a connexion Avith many virtues. It has ever been a very particular and a very favourite object of my study, in its principles, and in its details. I think many here are acquainted with the truth of what I say. This I know, that I have ever had my house open, and my poor sendees ready, for traders and manufacturers of every denomination. My favourite ambition is to have those services acknowledged. I now appear before you to make trial, whether my earnest endeavours have been so wholly oppressed "Iry the weakness of my abilities, as to be ren- dered insignificant in the eyes of a great trading city ; or whether you choose to give a weight to humble abilities, for the sake of the honest exertions with which they are accompanied. This is my trial to-day. My industry is not on trial. Of my industry I am sure, as far as my constitution of mind and body admitted. When I was invited by many respectable merchants, freeholders, and freemen of this city, to offer them my services, I had just received the honour of an election at another ]'!;i--c, at a very great distance from this. I immediately opened the matter to those of my worthy constituents who were with me, and they unanimously advised me not to decline it. They told me, that they had elected me with a view to the public sendee; and as great questions relative to our commerce and colonies \vciv imminent, that in such matters I might derive authority and support from the represen- tation of this great commercial city : they de- sired me therefore to set off without delay, very well persuaded that I never could forget my obligations to them, or to my friends, for the choice they had made of me. From that time to this instant I have not slept ; and if I should have the honour of being freely chosen by you, I hope I shall be as far from slumbering or sleeping when your service requires me to be awake, as I have been in coming to offer myself a candidate for your favour. SPEECH AFTER ELECTION, NOVEMBER 3, 1774. C\ ENTLEMEN, I cannot avoid sympathizing \JT strongly with the feelings of the gentleman who has received the same honour that you have conferred on me. If he (Cruger) who was bred and passed his whole life amongst you ; if he, who through the easy gradations of acquaint- ance, friendship, and esteem, has obtained the honour, which seems of itself, naturally and almost insensibly, to meet with those, who, by the even tenor of pleasing manners and social virtues, slide into the love and confidence of their fellow-citizens; if he cannot speak but with great emotion on this subject, surrounded as he is on all sides with his old friends ; you will have the goodness to excuse me, if my real, unaffected embarrassment prevents me from ex- pressing my gratitude to you as I ought. I was brought hither under the disadvantage of being unknown, even by sight, to any of you. No previous canvass was made for me. I was put in nomination after the poll was opened. I did not appear until it was far advanced. If, under all these accumulated disadvantages, your good opinion has earned me to this happy point of success ; you will pardon me, if I can only say to you collectively, as I said to you indivi- dxially, simply and plainly, I thank you I am obliged to you I am not insensible of your kindness. This is all that I am able to say for the inestimable favour you have conferred upon me. But I cannot be satisfied, without saying a little more in defence of the right you have to confer such a favour. The person that appeared here as counsel for the candidate who so long and so earnestly solicited your votes, thinks proper to deny that a very great part of you have any votes to give. He fixes a standard period of time in his own imagination, not what the law defines, but merely what the convenience of his client suggests, by which he would cut oft', at one stroke, all those freedoms which are the dearest privileges of your corporation ; which the common law authorizes ; which your magistrates are compelled to grant ; which come duly authenticated into this court; and are saved in the clearest words, and with the most religious care and tenderness, in that very Act of Parliament, which was made to regulate the elections by freemen, and to prevent all possible abuses in making them. I do not intend to argue the matter here. My learned counsel has supported your cause with his usual ability ; the worthy sheriffs have acted with their usual equity, and I have no THE ORATOR. doubt that the same equity, which dictates the return, will guide the final determination. I had the honour, in conjunction with many far wiser men, to contribute a very small assistance, but however some assistance, to the forming the judicature which is to try such questions. It would be unnatural in me to doubt the justice of that court, in the trial of my own cause, to which I have been so active to give jurisdiction over every other. I assure the worthy freemen and this corpo- ration, that, if the gentleman perseveres in the intentions which his present warmth dictates to him, I will attend their cause with diligence, and I hope with effect. For, if I know any- thing of myself, it is not my own interest in it, but my full conviction, that induces me to tell you I think there is not a shadow of doubttin the case. I do not imagine that you find me rash in declaring myself, or very forward in troubling you. From the beginning to the end of the election, I have kept silence in all matters of discussion. I have never asked a question of a voter on the other side, or supported a doubt- ful vote on my own. I respected the abilities of my managers ; I relied on the candour of the court. I think the worthy sheriffs will bear me witness!, that I have never once made an attempt to impose upon their reason, to surprise their justice, or to ruffle their temper. I stood on the hustings (except when I gave my thanks to those who favoured me with their votes) less like a candidate, than an unconcerned spectator of a public proceeding. But here the face of things is altered. Here is an attempt for a general massacre of suffrages ; an attempt, by a promiscuous carnage of friends and foes, to exterminate above two thousand votes, including seven hundred polled for the gentleman himself, n'ho now complains, and who would destroy the friends whom he has obtained, only because he cpjmot obtain as many of them as he wishes. How he will be permitted, in another place, to stultify and disable himself, and to plead against his own acts, is another question. The law will decide it. I shall only speak of it as it concerns the propriety of public conduct in this city. I do not pretend to lay down ruleo of decorum for other gentlemen. They are best judges of the mode of proceeding that will recommend them to the favour of their fellow- citizens. But I confess I should look rather awkward, if I had been the very first to produce the new copies of freedom ; if I had persisted in producing them to the last ; if I had ransacked, with the most unremitting industry and the most penetrating research, the remotest corners of the kingdom to discover them ; if I were then, all at once, to turn short, and declare, that I had been sporting all this while with the right of election; and that I had been drawing out a poll, upon no sort of rational grounds, which disturbed the peace of my fellow-citizens for a month together I really, for my part, should appear awkward under such circumstances. It would be still more awkward in me if I were gravely to look the sheriffs in the face, and to tell them, they were not to determine my cause on my own principles ; nor to make the return upon those votes upon which I had rested my election. Such would be my appear- ance to the court and magistrates. But how should I appear to the voters them- selves if I had gone round to the citizens entitled to freedom, and squeezed them by the hand " Sir, I humbly beg your vote I shall be eternally thankful may I hope for the honour of your support ? Well ! come we shall see you at the council-house j" if I were then to deliver them to my managers, pack them into tallies, vote them off in court, and when I heard from the bar " Such a one only ! and such a one for ever ! he's my man ! "- "Thank you, good sir Hah ! my worthy friend! thank you kindly that's an honest fellow how is your good family?" whilst these words are hardly out of my mouth, if I should have wheeled round at once, and told them " Get you gone, you pack of worthless fellows ! you have no votes you are usurpers ! you are intruders on the rights of real free- men! I will have nothing to do with you! you ought never to have been produced at this election, and the sheriffs ought not to have admitted you to poll !" ? Gentlemen, I should make a strange figure if my conduct had been of this sort. I am not so old an acquaintance of yours as the worthy gentleman. Indeed, I could not have ventured on such kind of freedoms with you. But I am bound, and I will endeavour, to have justice done to the rights of freemen, even though I should, at the same time, be obliged to vindicate the former* part of my antagonist's conduct against his own present inclinations. I owe myself, in all things, to all the freemen of this city. My particular friends have a demand on me that I should not deceive their expectations. Never was cause or man sup- ported with more constancy, more activity, more spirit. I have been supported with a zeal indeed and heartiness in my friends, which (if their object had been at all proportioned to their endeavours) could never be sufficiently commended. They supported me upon the most liberal principles. They wished that the members for Bristol should be chosen for the city, and for their country at large, and not for themselves. * Mr. Brickdnlo opened bis poll, it scorns, with a tally of those very kind of freemen, and polled many hundreds of them. Ij THE ORATOR. So far they are not disappointed. If I possess nothing else, I am sure I possess the temper that is fit for your service. I know nothing of Bristol, but by the favours I have received, and the virtues I have seen exerted in it. I shall ever retain, what I now feel, the most perfect and grateful attachment to my friends and I have no enmities no resentment. I never can consider fidelity to engagements, and con- stancy in friendships, but with the highest approbation; even when those noble qualities are employed against my own pretensions. The gentleman who is not so fortunate as I have been in this contest, enjoys, in this respect, a consolation full of honour both to himself and to his friends. They have certainly left nothing- undone for his service. As for the trifling petulance, which the rage of party stirs up in little minds, though it should show itself in this court, it has not made the slightest impression on me. The highest flight of such clamorous birds is winged in an inferior region of the air. We hear them, and we look upon them, just as you, gentlemen, when you enjoy the serene air on your lofty rocks, look down upon the gulls that skim the mud of your river, when it is exhausted of its tide. I am sorry I cannot conclude without saying a word on a topic touched upon by my worthy colleague. I wish that topic had been passed by at a time when I have so little leisure to -discuss it. But since he has thought proper to throw it out, I owe you a clear explanation of my poor sentiments on that subject. He tells you, that " the topic of instructions has occasioned much altercation and uneasi- ness in this city ; " and he expresses himself (if I understand him rightly) in favour of the 'coercive authority of such instructions. Certainly, gentlemen, it ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest correspond- ence, and the most unreserved communication with his constituents. Their wishes ought to hafe 'great weight with him ; their opinion, high respect ; their business unrcmittcd attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs ; and above all, ever, and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But his unbiassed opinion, his matm-e judgment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not dejive from your pleasure no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Providence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment ; and ho betrays, inH.<"n! <>\' revving you, if he sacrifices it to y<>ur opinion. My worthy colleague says, his will ought to bo subservient to yours. If that be all, the thing is innocent. If government were a matter of will upon any side, yours, without question, ought to be superior. But govern- ment and legislation are matters of reason and judgment, and not of inclination ; and/"what sort of reason is that, in which the determina- tion precedes the discussion ; in which one set of men deliberate and another decide ; and where those who form the conclusion are perhaps three hundred miles distant from those who hear the arguments ? To deliver an opinion is the right of all men ; that of constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a representative ought always to rejoice to hear, and which he ought always most seriously to consider. But 'authoritative instructions mandates issued, which the member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgment and conscience, these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land,/and which arise from a fundamental mistake of the whole order and tenour of our constitution. Parliament is not a congress of ambassadors from different and hostile interests, which inter- ests each must maintain, as an agent and advocate, against other agents and advocates ; but Parliament is a deliberative assembly of one nation, with one interest, that of the whole ; where, not local purposes, not local prejudices ought to guide, but the general good, resulting from the general reason of the whole) You choose a member, indeed ; but when you have chosen him, he is not member of Bristol, but he local con- or should form a hasty 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 endeavour to give it effect. I beg pardon for saying so much on this sub- ject. I have been unwillingly drawn into it ; but I shall ever use a respectful frankness of communication with you. Your faithful friend, your devoted servant, I shall be to the end of my life : a flatterer you do not wish for. On this point of instructions, however, I think it scarcely possible we ever can have any sort of difference. Perhaps I may give you too much, rather than too little trouble. From the first hour I was encoxiragcd to court your favour, to this happy day of obtain- ing it, I have never promised you anything but humble and persevering endeavours to do my duty. The weight of that duty, I confess, makes me tremble ; and whoever well considers what it is, of all things in the world, will fly from what has the least likeness to a positive and precipitate engagement. To be a good is a member of Parliament^ If the stituent should have an interest, THE ORATOR. member of Parliament, is, lot me tell you, no easy task ; especially at this time, when there is so strong a disposition to ran into the perilous extremes of servile compliance or wild popu- larity. To unite circumspection with vigour, is absolutely necessary ; but it is extremely difficult. We are now members for a rich com- mercial city ; this city, however, is but a part of a rich commercial nation, the interests of which are various, multiform, and intricate. We are members for that great nation, which however is itself but part of a great ern^'u-c, extended by our virtue and our fortune to the farthest limits of the east and of the west. All these wide-spread interests must be considered ; must be compared ; must be reconciled if pos- sible. We are members for a free country ; and surely we all know, that the machine of a free constitution is no simple thing ; but as intricate and as delicate as it is valuable. We are members in a great and ancient monarchy ; and we must preserve religiously the true legal rights of the sovereign, which form the key- stone that binds together the noble and well- constructed arch of our empire and our constitu- tion. A constitution made up of balanced powers must ever be a critical thing. As such, I mean to touch that part of it which comes within my reach. I know my inability, and I wish for support from every quarter. In par- ticular I shall aim at the friendship, and shall cultivate the best correspondence, of the worthy colleague you have given me. I trouble you no farther than once more to thank you all ; you, gentlemen, for your favours ; the candidates, for their temperate and polite behaviour ; and the sheriffs, for a conduct which may give a model for all who are in public stations. EDMUND BURKE. [THE passages here chosen form part of the opening portion of one of Burke's greatest speeches, in which he laid before the House of Commons his thirteen reso- lutions for reconcilement with America. In the language of Mr. Peter Burke, whose short but admirable Life of his great namesake is well worthy of perusal, it may be observed that in this speech, the great orator, waiving the discussion of right, confined himself to the question of expediency. He proceeded upon a principle admitted by the wisest legislators, that Government must be adapted to the nature and situation of the people for whose benefit it is exercised. Instead of recurring to abstract ideas, he considered the circumstances, modes of marking dispositions, and principles of action of the people in particular, whoso treatment was the subject of deliberation. It would, however, be impossible, within the limits of this publication, to give even an outline of the general scope and bearing of this great speech. An extract has therefore been made from the exordium, concluding with the magnificent picture of the greatness of the British colonies in America, which will, it is hoped, induce many of our readers to refer to the speech itself, which may be found in its entirety in the third volume of Burke's complete Works, published in 1826. It is needless to add that these eloquent warn- ings had no effect on the Ministry.] CONCILIATION WITH THE AMEKICAN COLONIES. I HOPE, sir, that, notwithstanding the aus- terity of the Chair, your good-nature will incline you to some degree of indulgence towards human frailty. You will not think it unnatural, that those who have an object depending, which strongly engages their hopes and fears, should be somewhat inclined to superstition. As I came into the House full of anxiety about the event of my motion, I found, to my infinite surprise, that the grand penal Bill, by which we had passed sentence on the trade and sus- tenance of America, is to be returned to us from the other House.* I do confess, I could not help looking on this event as a fortunate omen. I look upon it as a sort of -providential favour ; by which we are put once more in pos- session of our deliberative capacity, upon a business so very questionable in its nature, so very uncertain in its issue. By the return of this Bill, which seemed to have taken its flight for ever, we are at this very instant nearly as free to choose a plan for our American govern- ment as we were on the first day of the session. If, sir, we incline to the side of conciliation, we are not at all embarrassed (unless we please to make ourselves so) by any incongruous mix- ture of coercion and restraint. We are therefore called upon, as it were by a superior warning voice, again to attend to America ; to attend to the whole of it together ; and to review the subject with an unusual degree of care ami ' calmness. Surely it is an awful subject ; or there is none so on this side of the grave. When I first had the honour "of a seat in this House, the affairs of that continent pressed themselves upon us, as the most important and most deli- cate object of parliamentary attention. My 1 little share in this great deliberation oppressed me. I found myself ^partaker in a very high trust ; and having nosort of reason to rely on the strength of my natural abilities for the proper execution of that trust, I was obliged to take more than common pains to instrct mj'self in everything which relates to our- colonies. I was not less under the necessity of forming some fixed ideas concerning the general policy of the British empire. Something of this sort seemed to be indispensable ; in order, amidst so vast a fluctuation of passions and opinions, to concentre my thoughts ; to ballast my conduct ; to preserve me from being blown - * The Act to restrain the trade and commerce of tho provinces of Massachusetts Bay and New Hampshire, and colonies of Connecticut and Rhode Island, and Providence Plantation, in North America, to Great Britain, Ireland, and the British Islands in tho West Indies ; and to prohibit such provinces and colonies from carrying on any fishery on the banks of Newiouud- land, and other places therein mentioned, under certain conditions and limitations. 8 THE ORATOR. about by every wind of fashionable doctrine. I really did not think it safe, or manly, to have fresh principles to seek upon every fresh mail which should arrive from America. At that period I had the fortune to find myself in perfect concurrence with a large majority in this House. Bowing under that high authority, and penetrated with the sharp- ness and strength of that early impression, I have continued ever since, without the least deviation, in my original sentiments. Whether this \je owing to an obstinate perseverance in error, or to a religious adherence to what appears to me truth and reason, it is in your equity, to judge. Sir, Parliament having an enlarged view of objects, made, during this interval, more frequent changes in their sentiments and their conduct, than could be justified in a particular person upon the contracted scale of private information. But though I do not hazard anything approach- ing to a censure on the motives of former Parlia- ments to all those alterations, one fact is undoubted, that under them the state of America has been kept in continual agitation. Everything administered as remedy to the public complaint, if it did not produce, was at least followed by, a heightening of the dis- It-nqvr; until, by a variety of experiments, that important country has been brought into her present situation ; a situation which I will not miscall ; which I dare not name ; which I scarcely know how to comprehend in the terms of any description. # * * * The capital leading questions on which you must this day decide are tkese two : First, whether you ought to concede; and secondly, what your concession ought to be. On the first of these questions we have gained some ground. But I am sensible that a good deal more is still to be done. Indeed, sir, to enable us to determine both on the one and the other of these great questions with a firm and precise judgment, I think it may be neces- sary to consider distinctly the true nature and the peculiar circumstances of the object which we have before us. Because, after all our struggle, whether we will or not, we must govern America according to that nature, and to those circumstances, and not according to our own imagination ; not according to abstract ideas of right ; by no means according to mere general theories of government, the resort to which appears to me, in our present situation, no better than arrant trifling. I shall therefore endeavour, with your leave, to lay before you some pf the most material of these circumstances in as full and as clear a manner as I am able to state them. The first thing that we have to consider with regard to the nature of the object is the number of people in the colonies. I have taken for some years a good deal of pains on that point. I can by no calculation justify myself in placing the number below two millions of inhabitants of our own European blood and colour; besides at least 500,000 others, who form no inconsiderable part of the strength and opulence of the whole. This, sir, is, I believe, about the true number. There is no occasion to exaggerate, where plain truth is of so much weight and importance. But whether I put the present numbers too high or too low, is a matter of little moment. Such is the strength with which population shoots in that part of the world, that state the numbers as high as we will, whilst the dispute continues, the exaggeration ends. Whilst we are discussing any given magnitude, they are grown to it. Whilst we spend our time in deliberating on the mode of governing two millions, we shall find we have millions more to manage. Your children do not grow faster from infancy to manhood, than they spread from families to communities, and from villages to nations. I put this consideration of the present and the growing numbers in the front of our delibe- ration, because, sir, this consideration will make it evident to a blunter discernment than yours, that no partial, narrow, contracted, pinched, occasional system will be at all suitable to such an object. It will show you, that it is not to be considered as one of those minima which are out of the eye and consideration of the law ; not a paltry excrescence of the State ; not a mean dependent, who may be neglected with little damage, and provoked with little danger. It will prove that some degree of care and caution is required in the handling such an object ; it will show that you ought not, in reason, to trifle with so large a mass of the interests and feelings of the human race. You could at no time do so without guilt ; and be assured you will not be able to do it long with impunity. But the population of this country, the great and growing population, though a very import- ant consideration, will lose much of its weight, if not combined with other circumstances. The commerce of your colonies is out of all propor- tion beyond the numbers of the people. This ground of their commerce, indeed, has been trod some days ago, and with great ability, by a distinguished person,* at your bar. This gentleman, after thirty -five years it is so long since he first appeared at the same place to plead for the commerce of Great Britain, has come again before you to plead the same cause, without any other effect of time, than, that to the fire of imagination and extent of erudition, which even then marked him as one of the * Mr. Glover. THE ORATOR. 9 first literary characters of his age, he has added a consummate knowledge in the commercial interest of his country, formed by a long course of enlightened and discriminating experience. Then, after reviewing our commercial rela- tions with America, Mr. Burke proceeded : The trade with America alone is now within less than 500,000 of being equal to what this great commercial nation, England, carried on at the beginning of this century with the whole world ! If I had taken the largest year of those on your table, it would rather have exceeded. But, it will be said, is not this American trade an unnatural protuberance, that has drawn the juices from the rest of the body ? The reverse. It is the very food that has nourished every other part into its present magnitude. Our general trade has been greatly augmented, and augmented more or less in almost every part to which it ever extended ; but with this material difference, that of the six millions which in the beginning of the century constituted the whole mass of our export commerce, the colony trade was but one-twelfth part ; it is now (as a part of sixteen millions) considerably more than a third of the whole. This is the relative proportion of the importance of the colonies at these two periods ; and all reasoning concerning our mode of treating them must have this proportion as its basis, or it is a reasoning, weak, rotten, and sophistical. Mr. Speaker, I cannot prevail on myself to hurry over this great consideration. It is good for us to be here. We stand where we have an immense view of what is, and what is past. Clouds, indeed, and darkness, rest upon the future. Let us, however, before we descend from this noble eminence, reflect that this growth of our national prosperity has happened within the short period of the life of man. It has hap- pened within sixty-eight years. There are those alive whose memory might touch the two extre- mities. For instance, my Lord Bathurst might remember all the stages of the progress. He vrics in 1704 of an age at least to be made to com- prehend such things. He was then old enough, ada parentmn jam legcre, et quce sit potcrit cognoscere virtus suppose, sir, that the angel of this auspicious youth, foreseeing the many virtues which made him one of the most amiable, as he is one of the most fortunate men of his age, had opened to him in vision, that, when, in the fourth generation, the third prince of the house of Brunswick had sat twelve years on the throne of that nation, which (by the happy issue of moderate and healing councils) was to be made Great Britain, he should see his son, Lord Chancellor of England, turn back the current of hereditary dignity to its fountain, and raise him to a higher rank of peerage, whilst he enriched the family with a new one NO. II. if amidst these bright and happy scenes of domestic honour and prosperity, that angel should have drawn np the curtain, and unfolded the rising glories of his country, and whilst he was gazing with admiration on the then com- mercial grandeur of England, the genius should point out to him a little speck, scarce visible in the mass of the national interest, a small seminal principle rather than a formed body, and should tell him "Young man, there is America which at this day serves for little more than to amuse you with stories of savage men, and uncouth manners ; yet shall, before you taste of death, show itself equal to the whole of that commerce which now attracts the envy of the world. Whatever England has been growing to by a progressive increase of improvement, brought in by varieties of people, by succession of civilizing conquests and civilizing settlements in a series of seventeen hundred years, you shall see as much added to her by America in the course of a single life ! " If this state of his country had been foretold to him, would it not require all the sanguine credulity of youth, and all the fervid glow of enthusiasm, to make him believe it ? Fortunate man, he has lived to see it ! Fortunate indeed, if he lives to see nothing that shall vary the prospect, and cloud the setting of his day ! KOSSUTH. [KossuTH, in his speech to the New York Militia, December 16th, 1S51, pays the following graceful tri- bute to the eloquence of Garibaldi.] ^ ELOQUENCE or GARIBALDI. DO you know, gentlemen, what is the finest' speech I ever heard or read ? It is the address of Garibaldi to his Roman soldiers in the last war, when he told them : " Soldier?, what I have to offer you is fatigue, danger, struggling, and death the chill of the cold night, the open air, and the burning sun no lodgings, no munitions, no provisions, but forced marches, dangerous watchposts, and continued struggling with bayonets against batteries. Let those who love freedom and their country, follow me." That is the most. glorious speech I ever heard in my life. EDWARD EVERETT. Jlorn 1794. Living. [THE name of Mr. Everett is not unknown or un- honoured in this countiy. As a statesman and orator, he has been associated with the political history of America for more than thirty years past, and as a Minister of the United States for some time resident in England, is well and familiarly known to the great leaders of opinion amongst us. His "Mount Vernon Papers," a collection of sketches, relating, as their B 2 . jl 10 THE ORATOR. name would suggest, to Washington and other great American themes, were published in this country a few years since, and met with, no small success. Otherwise, his writings and speeches are probably not very gene- rally known to the mass of the reading community, and therefore it has been thought desirable to offer several specimens of his eloquence throughout the course of the present work ; and, as examples of a lofty and impas- sioned type of oratory, they will well bear very careful study and imitation. The following extract is from an oration on one of the brightest and purest names in American history the memory of the good and brave La Fayette being amongst the richest heritages of the great Republic.] TIIE CHARACTER, OF LA FAYETTE. nnHERE have been those who have denied to JL La Fayette the name of a great man. What is gresatness ? Does goodness belong to great- 'jiess and /nake an essential part of it? Is there yet enough of virtue left in the world, to echo the sentiment, that " 'Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great ? " If there is, who, I would ask, of all the pro- minent names in history, has ran through such a career, with so little reproach, justly or un- justly, bestowed ? Are military courage and conduct the measure of greatness ? La Fayette was intrusted by Washington with all kinds of service ; the laborious and complicated, which required skill and patience; the perilous, that demanded nerve ; and we see him keeping up a pursuit, effecting a retreat, out-manceuvering a wary adversary with a superior force, harmo- nizing the action of French regular troops and American militia, commanding an assault at the point of the bayonet ; and all with entire ^ucecss and brilliant reputation. Is the readi- tfcss to meet vast responsibility a proof of greatness ? The memoirs of Mr. Jefferson show u, that there was a moment in 1789, when Ea Fayette took upon himself, as the head of the military force, the entire responsibility of laying down the basis of the revolution. Is the cool and brave administration of gigantic power a mark of greatness ? In all the whirl- wind of the revolution, and when, as commander- '-in-chief of the National Guard, an organized T /' force of three millions of men, who, for any popular purpose, needed but a word, a look, put them in motion, and he their idol, we behold him ever calm, collected, disinterested ; ae free from affectation as selfishness, clothed not less with humility than with power. Is .the fortitude required to resist the multitude press- ing onward their leader to glorious crime, a part of greatness ? Behold him the fugitive and the victim, when he might have been the chief of the revolution. Is the solitary and unaided opposition of a good citizen to the pretensions of an absolute ruler, whose power was as boundless as his ambition, an effort of greatness ? Read the letter of La Fayette to Napoleon Bonaparte, refusing to vote for him as consul for life. Is the voluntary return, in advancing years, to the direction of affairs, at a moment like that, when in 1815 the ponderous machinery of the French empire was flying asunder, stunning, rending, crushing thousands on every side, a mark of greatness ? Con- template La Fayette at the tribune, in Paris, when allied Europe was thundering at its gates, and Napoleon yet stood in his desperation and at bay. Are dignity, propriety, cheerfulness, unerring discretion in new and conspicuous stations of extraordinary delicacy, a sign of greatness ? Watch his progress in this country, in 1824 and 1825 ; hear him say the right word at the right time, in a series of interviews, public and private, crowding on each other every day, for a twelvemonth, throughout the Union, with every description of persons, with- out ever wounding for a moment the self-love of others, or forgetting the dignity of his own position. Lastly, is it any proof of greatness to be able, at the age of seventy -three, to take the lead in a successful and bloodless revolu- tion ; to change the dynasty, to organize, exercise, and abdicate a military command of three and a half millions of men ; to take up, to perform, and lay down the most momentous, delicate, and perilous duties, without passion, without hurry, without selfishness ? Is it great to disregard the bribes of title, office, money ; to live, to labour, and suffer for great public ends alone ; to adhere to principle under all circumstances; to stand before Europe and America conspicuous for sixty years, in the most responsible stations, the acknowledged admiration of all good men ? I think I understand the proposition, that La Fayette was not a great man. It comes from the same school which also denies great- ness to Washington, and which accords it to Alexander and Ca3sar, to Napoleon and to his conqueror. When I analyze the greatness of these distinguished men, as contrasted with that of La Fayette and Washington, I find either one idea omitted, which is essential to true greatness, or one included as essential, which belongs only to the lowest conception of great- ness. The moral, disinterested, and purely patriotic qualities are wholly wanting in the greatness of Czesar and Napoleon ; and, on the other hand, it is a certain splendour of success, a brilliancy of result, which, with the majority of mankind, marks them out as the great men of our race. But not only are a high morality and a true patriotism essential to greatness ; but they must first be renounced, before a ruthless career of selfish conquest can begin. I profess to be no judge of military combinations ; but, with the best reflection I have been able to give the subject, I perceive no reason to doubt, that, had La Fayette, like Napoleon, been by principle capable of hovering on the edges of ultra-revolutionism ; never halting enough to be THE OEATOE. 11 denounced ; never plunging too far to retreat ; but with a cold and well-balanced selfishness, sustaining himself at the head of affairs, under each new phase of the revolution, by the com- pliances sufficient to satisfy its deiuands, had his principles allowed him to play this game, he might have anticipated the career of Napoleon. At three different periods, he had it in his power, without usurpation, to take the govern- ment into his own hands. He was invited urged to do so. Had he done it, and made use of the military means at his command, to maintain and perpetuate his power, he would then, at the sacrifice of all his just claims to the name of great and good, have reached that which vulgar admiration alone worships, the greatness of high station and brilliant success. But it was of the greatness of La Fayette, that he looked down on greatness of the false kind. He learned his lesson in the school of Washington, and took his first practice in victories over himself. Let it be questioned by the venal apologists of time-honoured abuses, let it be sneered at by national prejudice and party detraction ; let it be denied by the admi- rers of war and conquest ; by the idolaters of success ; but let it be gratefully acknowledged by good men ; by Americans, by every man, who has sense to distinguish character from events ; who has a heart to beat in concert with the pure enthusiasm of virtue. But it is more than time, fellow-citizens, that I commit this great and good man to your un- prompted contemplation. On his arrival among you, ten years ago, when your civil fathers, your military, your children, your whole popula- tion poured itself out, as one throng, to salute him, when your cannons proclaimed his advent with joyous salvos, and your acclamations were responded from steeple to steeple, by the voice of festal bells, with what delight did you not listen to his cordial and affectionate words; " I beg of you all, beloved citizens of Boston, to accept the respectful and warm thanks of a heart, which has for nearly half a century been devoted to your illustrious city ! " That noble heart, to which, if any object on earth was dear, that object was the country of his early choice, of his adoption, and his more than regal triumph, that noble heart will beat no more for your welfare. Cold and motionless, it is already mingling with the dust. While he lived, you thronged with delight to his presence, you gazed with admiration on his placid features and venerable form, not wholly unshaken by the rude storms of his career ; and now that he is departed, you have assembled in this cradle of the liberties, for which, with your fathers, he risked his life, to pay the last honours to his memory. You have thrown open these consecrated portals to admit the lengthened train which has come to discharge the last public offices of respect to his name. You have hung these venerable arches, for the second time since their erection, with the sable badges of sorrow. You have thus associated the memory of La Fayette in those distinguished honours, which but a few years since you paid to your Adams and Jefferson ; and could your wishes and mine have prevailed, my lips would this day have been mute, and the same illustrious voice, which gave utterance to your filial emotions over their honoured graves, would have spoken also, for you, over him who shared their earthly labours, enjoyed their friendship, and has now gone to share their last repose, and their im- perishable remembrance. ' ..- There is not, throughout the world, a friend of liberty, who has not dropped his head when he has heard that La Fayette is no more. Poland, Italy, Greece, Spain, Ireland, the South American republics, every country where man " is struggling to recover his birthright, has lost a benefactor a patron in La Fayette, But you, young men, at whose command I speak, for you a bright and particular loadstar is henceforward fixed in the front of heaven. What young man that reflects on the history of La Fayette, that sees him in the morning of his days the associate of sages, the friend of Washington, but will start with new vigour on the path of duty and renown ? And what was it, fellow-citizens, which gave- to our La Fayette his spotless fame ? The love of liberty. What has consecrated his memory in hearts of good men ? The love of liberty.,. ': What nerved his youthful arm with strength^ and inspired him in the morning of his days with sagacity and counsel ? The living lore of liberty. To what did he sacrifice power, and rank, and country, and freedom itself? To the horror of licentiousness ; to the sanctity of plighted faith ; to the love of liberty protected by law. Thus the great principle of your revo- lutionary fathers, of your pilgrim sires, the great principle of the age, was the rule of his life :- The love of liberty protected by law. Yoii have now assembled within these to^ nowned walls, to perform the last duties- of ;i respect and love, on the birth-day of your benefactor, beneath that roof which has re- sounded of old with the master-voices of Ame- rican renown. The spirit of the departed is in high communion with the spirit of the place ;' the temple worthy of the new name, which we now behold inscribed on its walls. Listen, Americans, to the lesson, which seems borne to us on the very air we breathe, while we perform these dutiful rites. Ye Winds, that wafted the pilgrims to the land of promise, fan, in their children's hearts, the love of freedom ; Blood, which our fathers shed, cry from the ground ; Echoing Arches of this renowned hall, whisper back the voices of other days ; Glorious Wash- : -^ 12 THE ORATOR. ington, break the long silence of that votive canvass ; Speak, speak, marble lips : teach us " TUP. LOVE OF LIBERTY PROTECTED BY LAW ! " JOHN BRIGHT. Born 1810. [THE following extracts are from a speech of Mr. Bright, delivered in the Town Hall, Birmingham, on December 18, 18(32. As will be seen from allusions in the speech itself, Mr. Bright had occasion to differ very materially from Mr. Scholefield, his colleague, on several topics then under discussion ; but the general bearing of his discourse seems to have been received by his constituents with enthusiastic applause. The robust and manly eloquence of Mr. Bright has seldom been exhibited to better advantage than at the close of this speech his righteous indignation at that slavery sys- tem which has been declared to be " the corner-stone of the Confederacy," being thoroughly in keeping with all his- former utterances on the same subject. Much of the speech, in which he supports his views by statistical and other minute argument, has been necessarily omitted to bring our quotations within the compass of the present work.] THE COTTON SUPPLY AND AMERICAN WAR. C\ ENTLEMEN, I am afraid that there was a \JT little excitement during a part of my hon- ourable colleague's speech, which was hardly favourable to that impartial consideration of great questions to which he appealed. He began by referring to a question or, I might say, to two questions, for it was one great question in two parts which at this moment occupies the mind, and, I think, must affect the heart, of every thoughtful man in this country the calamity which has fallen upon the county from which I come, and the strife which is astonishing the world, on the other aide of the Atlantic. I shall not enter into details with regard to that calamity, because you hare had already, I believe, meetings in tnis town, many details have been published, contributions of a generous character have been made, and you are doing and especially, if I am rightly informed, are your artizans doing their duty with regard to the unfortunate con- dition of the population amongst which I live. But this I may state in a sentence, that the greatest, probably the most prosperous, manu- facturing industry that this country or the world has ever seen, has been suddenly and unexpectedly stricken down, but by a blow wliich has not been unforeseen or unforetold. Nearly 500,000 persons men, women, and children at this moment are saved from the utmost extremes of famine, not a few of them from death, by the contributions which they are receiving from all parts of the country. I will not attempt here an elaborate eulogy of the generosity of the givers, nor will I endea- vour to paint the patience and the gratitude of those who suffer and receive ; but I believe the conduct of the country, with regard to this great misfortune, is an honour to all classes and to every section of this people. Some have remarked that there is perfect order where there has been so much anxiety and suffering; I believe there is scarcely a thoughtful man in Lancashire who will not admit that one great cause of the patience and good conduct of the people, besides the fact that they know so much is being done for them, is to be found in the extensive information they possess, and which of late years, and now more than ever, has been communicated to them through the instru- mentality of an untaxed press. Noble lords who have recently spoken, official men, and public men, have taken upon them to tell the people of Lancashire that nobody is to blame, and that in point of fact, if it had not been for a family quarrel in that dreadful Republic, everything would have gone on perfectly smoothly, and not a word could have been said against anybody. Now, if you will allow me, I should like to examine for a few minutes whether this be true. If you read the papers with regard to this question you will find that, barring whatever chance there may be of our again soon receiving a supply of cotton from America, the hopes of the whole country are directed to India. ... In 1847 I was in the House of Commons, and I brought forward a proposition for a select committee to inquire into this whole question; for in that year Lan- cashire was on the verge of the calamity that has now overtaken it, cotton was very scarce, for hundreds of the mills were working short time, and many were closed altogether. That committee reported that, in all the districts of Bombay and Madras, where cotton was culti- vated, and generally over those agricultural regions, the people were in a condition of the most abject and degraded pauperism ; and I will ask you whether it is possible for a people in that condition to produce anything great, or anything good, or anything constant, which the world requires ? It is not to be wondered at that the quality of the cotton should be bad, so bad that it is illustrated by an anecdote wliich a very excellent man of the Methodist body told me the other day. He said that at a prayer meeting, not more than a dozen miles from where I live, one of the ministers was deep in supplication to the Supreme ; he detailed, no doubt, a great many things which he thought they were in want of, and amongst the rest, a supply of cotton for the famishing people in that district. When he prayed for cotton, some man with a keen sense of what he had suffered in response, exclaimed, " O Lord ! but not Surat." Now, my argument is this, and my assertion is this, that the growth of cotton in India, the growth of an article which was native and common in India before America was discovered by Europeans, that the growth THE OBA.TOR. 13 of that article has been systematically injured, strangled, and destroyed by the stupid and wicked policy of the Indian Government. I saw, the other day, a letter from a gentleman as well acquainted with Indian affairs, perhaps, as any man in India a letter written to a member of the Madras Government in which he stated his firm opinion, that if it had not been for the Bombay Committee in 1846, and for my committee in 1848, there would not have been any cotton sent from India at this moment to be worked up in Lancashire. Now, in 1846, the quantity of cotton coming from India had fallen to 94,000 bales. How has it increased since then ? In 1859 it had reached 509,000 bales ; in 1860, 562,000 bales ; and last year, owing to the extraordinarily high price, it had reached 986,000 bales ; and I suppose this year will be about the same as last year. I think, in justification of myself, and of some of those with whom I have acted, I am entitled to ask your time for a few moments, to show you what has been, not so much done as attempted to be done, to improve this state of things ; and what has been the systematic opposition that we have had to contend with. In the year 1847, 1 moved for that committee, in a speech from which I shall read one short extract. I said that " We ought not to forget that the whole of the cotton grown in America is produced by slave labour, and this, I think, all will admit that no matter as to the period in which slavery may have existed, abolished it will ultimately be, either by peaceable means or by violent means. Whether it comes to an end by peaceable means or otherwise, there will in all probability be an interruption to the production of cotton, and the calamity which must in consequence fall upon a part of the American Union will be felt throughout the manufacturing districts of this country." The committee was not refused Governments do not always refuse committees, they don't much fear them on matters of this kind ; they piit as many men on as the mover of the committee does, and sometimes more, and they often con- sider a committee, as my hon. colleague will tell you, rather a convenient way of burying an unpleasant question at least for another Session. The committee sat during the Session of 1848, and it made a report, from which I shall quote not an extract, but the sense of an extract. The evidence was veiy extensive, veiy complete, and entirely condemnatory of the whole system of the Indian Government with regard to the land and agricultural produce, and one might have hoped that something would have ariM-n from it, and probably something has arisen from it, but so slowly that you have no fruit, nothing on which you can calculate, even up to this hour. Well, in 1850, as nothing more was done, I thought it time to take another step, and I gave notice of a motion for the appoint- ment of a Royal Commission to go to India for the express purpose of ascertaining the truth of this matter : I moved, " That a Royal Com- mission proceed to India to inquire into the obstacles which prevent the increased growth of cotton in India, and to report iipon any circum- stance which may injuriously affect the econo- mical and industrial condition of the native population, being cultivators of the soil, within the Presidencies of Madras and Bombay." Now I shall read you one extract from my speech on that occasion, which refers to this question of peril in America : I said, ** But there is another point, that whilst the produc- tion of cotton in the United States results from slave labour, whether we approve of any parti- cular mode of abolishing slavery in any country or not, we are all convinced that it will be impossible in any country, and most of all in America, to keep between two and three mil- lions of the population permanently' in a state of bondage. By whatever means that system is to be abolished, whether by insurrection, which I would deplore or by some great measure of justice from the Government, one thing is certain, that the production of cotton must be interfered with for a considerable time, after such an event has taken place, and it may happen that the greatest measure of free- dom that has ever been conceded may be a measure, the consequence of which will inflict mischief upon the greatest industrial pursuit that engages the labour of the operative popu- lation of this country." Now, it was not likely the Government could pay much attention to this, for at that precise moment the Foreign' Office then presided over by Lord Palmerston\ was engaged with an English fleet in the' waters of Greece, in collecting a bad debt for one Don Pacifico, a Jew, who made a fraudulent demand on the Greek Government for injuries said to have been committed upon him in Greece. Notwithstanding this I called upon Lord John Russell, who was then the Prime Minister, and asked him whether he would grant the commission I was going to move for. I will say this for him, he appeared to agree with me that it was a reasonable thing. I believe he saw the peril, and that my proposi- tion was a proper one, but he said he wished he could communicate with Lord Dalhousie. But it was in the month of June, and he could not do that, and hear from him again before the close of the Session. He told me that Sir John Hobhouse, then President of the India Board, was very much against it, and I an- swered, " Doubtless he is, because he speaks as the mouthpiece of the East India Company, against whom I am bringing this inquiry." Well, my proposition came before the House, and, as some of you may recollect, it was THE OEATOE. opposed by the President of the India Board, and the Commission was consequently not granted. I had seen Sir Bobert Peel this was only ten days before his death I had seen Sir Kobert Peel, acquainted as he was with Lancashire interests, and had endeavoured to enlist him in my support. He cordially and entirely approved of my motion, and he re- mained in the House during the whole of the time I was speaking ; but when Sir John Hob- house rose to resist the motion, and he found the Government would not consent to it, he then JUft his seat, and left the House. The night after, or two nights after, he met me in .,the lobby ; and he said he thought it was but right he should explain why he left the House after the conversation he had held with me on this question before. He said he had hoped the Government would agree to the motion, but when he found they would not, his position was so delicate with regard to them and his own old party, that he was most anxious that nothing should induce him, unless under the pressure of some great extremity, to appear, even, to oppose them on any matter before the House. Therefore, from a very delicate sense of honour, he did not say what I am sure he would have been glad to have said, and the proposition did not receive from him that help which, if it had received it, would have sur- mounted all obstacles. To show the sort of men who are made ministers Sir John Hob- house had on these occasions always a speech of the same sort. He said this, " With respect to the peculiar urgency of the time, he could not say the honourable gentleman had made out his case ; for he found that the importation of cotton from all countries showed an immense increase during the last three years." Why, we know that the importation of cotton has shown an "immense increase" almost every , three years for the last fifty years. But it was 1 -cause that increase was entirely, or nearly so, from one source, and that source one of extreme 1'i-ril, that I asked for the inquiry for which I moved. He said he had a letter and he shook it at me in his hand from the Secretary of the Commercial Association of Manchester, in which the directors of that body declared by special resolution that my proposition was not neces- sary, that an inquiry might do harm, and that they were abundantly satisfied with everything that these Lords of Leadenhall Street were doing. He said, " Such was the letter of the Secretary of the Association, and it was a com- plete answer to the honourable gentleman who hud brought forward this motion." At this moment one of these gentlemen to whom I have referred, then President of the Board of Control, Governor of India, author, as he told a com- mittee on which I sat, of the Affghan war, is now decorated with a Norman title, for our masters, even after a lapse of 800 years, ape the Norman style, sits in the House of Peers, and legislates for you, having neglected in regard to India every great duty which apper- tained to his high office ; and, to show that it is not only Cabinets and Monarchs who thus distribute honours and rewards, the President of that Commercial Association, through whose instigation that letter was written, is now one of the representatives of Manchester, the great centre of that manufacture whose very founda- tion is now crumbling into ruin. # # # * But I have been asked twenty, fifty times daring the last twelve months, " Why don't you come out and say something ? Why can't you tell us something in this time of our great need ? " Well, I reply, " I told you something when telling was of use ; all I can say now is this, or nearly all, that a hundred years of crime against the negro in America, and a, hundred years of crime against the docile natives of our Indian Empire, are not to be washed away by the penitence and the suffering of an hour." But what i;; our position? for you who are subscribing your money here have a right to know. I believe the quantity of cotton in the United States is at this moment much less than many people here believe, and that it is in no condition to be forwarded and exported. And I suspect that it is far more probable than otherwise, notwithstanding some of the, I should say, strange theories of my honourable colleague, that there never will again be in America a crop of cotton grown by slave labour. You will understand I hope so at least that I am not undertaking the office of prophet, I am not predicting ; I know that everything which is not absolutely impossible may happen ; and therefore things may happen wholly different to the course which appears to me likely. But, I say, taking the facts as they are before us with that most limited vision which is given to mortals, the high probability is, that there will never be another crop consi- derable or of avail in our manufactories from slave labour in the United States. We read the American papers or the quotations from them in our own papers, but I believe we can form no adequate conception of the disorganiza- tion and chaos that now prevail throughout a great portion of the Southern States ; it is natural to a state of war under the circum- stances of society in that region. But then we may be asked, what are our sources of supply, putting aside India? There is the colony of Queensland, where enthusiastic per- sons tell you cotton can be grown worth 3s. a pound. True enough ; but where labour is very probably 10s. a day, I am not sure you are likely to get any large supply of that material we so much want, at a rate so cheap that we THE OKATOR. 15 shall be likely to use it. Africa is pointed to by a very zealous friend of mine, but Africa is a land of savages mostly, and with its climate so much against European constitutions, I should not encourage the hope that any great relief at any early period can be had from that continent. Egypt will send us 30,000 or 40,000 more bales than last year; in all probability Syria and Brazil, with these high prices, will increase their production to some considerable extent ; but I hold that there is no country at present from which you can derive any veiy large supply, except you can get it from your own dependencies in India. Now if there be no more cotton to be grown for two, or three, or four years in America, for our supply, we shall require, considering the smallness of the bales and the loss in working up the cotton we shall require nearly 6,000,000 of additional bales to be supplied from some source. Now, I want to put to you one question. It has taken the United States 20 years, from 1840 to 1860, to increase their growth of cotton from 2,000,000 of bales to 4,000,000. How long will it take any other country with comparatively little capital, with a thousand disadvantages which America did not suffer from how long will it take any other country, or all other countries, to give us 5,000,000 or 6,000,000 additional bales of cotton ? There is one sti- mulus, the only one that I know of, and although I have not recommended it to the Government, and I know not precisely what sacrifice it would entail, yet I shall mention it, and I do it on the authority of a gentleman to whom I have before referred, who is thoroughly acquainted with Indian agriculture, and who himself and his father have been landowners and cultivators in India for sixty years. He says there is only one mode by which you can rapidly stimulate the growth of cotton in India, except that stimulus coming from the high prices for the time being he says that if the Government would make a public declara- tion that for five years they would exempt from land-tax all land which during that time shall grow cotton, there would be the most extra- ordinary increase in the growth of that article which has ever been seen in regard to any branch of agriculture in the world. I do not know how far that would act, but I believe the stimulus would be enormous ; the loss to the Government in revenue would be something, but the deliverance to the industry of Lanca- shire, if it succeeded as my friend thinks, would, of course, be speedy and perhaps com- plete. Short of this, I look upon the restora- tion of the prosperity of Lancashire as distant most remote. I believe this misfortune will entail rain upon the whole working population, and that it will gradually engulf the waallcr traders and those possessing the least capital. I do not say it will, because, as I have said, what is not impossible may happen but it may for years make the whole factoiy property of Lancashire almost entirely worthless. Well, this is a very dismal look-out for a great many persons in this country ; but it comes, as I have said it comes from that utter neglect of our opportunities "-and our duties which has distin- guished the Government of India. Now, sir, before I sit down I shall ask you to listen to me for a few moments on the other branch of this great question, which refers to that sad tragedy which is passing before our eyes in the United States of America. I. shall not, in consequence of anything you have heard from my hon. friend, conceal from you any of the opinions which I hold, and which I proposed to lay before you if he had not spoken. Having given to him, notwithstanding s6me diversity of opinion, a fair and candid hearing, I presume that I shall receive the same favour from those who may differ from me. If I had known that my hon. friend was going to make an elaborate speech on this occasion one of two things I should have done. I should either have prepared myself entirely to answer him, or I should have decided not to attend a meeting where there could by any possibility of chance have been anything like discord between so many his friends and my friends in this room. Since I have been member for Birming- ham Mr. Scholefield has treated me with the kindness of a brother. Nothing could possibly be more generous and more disinterested in every way than his conduct towards me during these several years, and therefore I would much rather far rather that I lost any mere opporr tunity like this of speaking on this question- than I would have come here and appeared to be at variance with him. But I am happy to say that this great question does not depend upon the opinion of any man in Birmingham, or in England, or anywhere else. And there- fore I could anxious always, unless imperative duty requires, to avoid even a semblance of difference I could with a clear coiiseience have- abstained from coming to and speaking at this meeting. Biit I observe that my hon. friend endeavoiired to avoid committing himself to what is called a sympathy with the South. He takes a political view of this great question is disposed to deal with the matter as he would have dealt with the case of a colony of Spain or Portugal, revolting in South America, or Greece revolting from Turkey. I should like to state here what I once stated to -an- eminent American. He asked me if I could give him an idea of the course of public opinion in this country from the moment we heard of the secession of the Cotton States ; and I en- deavoxired to trace it in this way mid I ask you to say whether it is a fai" and full descrip- 16 THE ORATOR. tion. I said and my hon. friend has admitted that that when the revolt or secession was first announced, people here were generally against the South. Nobody thought then that the South had any cause for breaking up the integrity of that great nation. Their opinion was, and what people said, according to their different politics in this country was, " they have a Government which is mild, and not in any degree oppressive; they have not what some people love very nruch, and what some people dislike, they have not a costly mo- narchy, and an aristocracy, creating and living on patronage. They have not an expensive foreign policy ; a great army ; a great navy ; iud they have no suffering millions to be dis- contented and endeavouring to overthrow their Government; all of which things have been fcaid against Governments in this country and in Europe a hundred times within our own heaiing" and therefore they said, " Why should these men revolt ? " But for a moment the Washington Government appeared paralysed. It had' no army and navy ; everybody was traitor ttf it. It was paralyzed and apparently helpless ; and in the hour when the Government was transferred from President Buchanan to President Lincoln many people such was the unprepared state of the North such was the apparent paralysis of everything there thought there would be no war ; and men shook hands with each other pleasantly, and congratulated themselves that the disaster of a great strife, and the mischief to our own trade, might be avoided. That was the opinion at that mo- ment, so far as I can recollect, and could gather at the time, with my opportunities of gathering Bueh opinion. They thought the North would acquiesce in the rending of the Republic, and that there would be no war. .Well, but there was another reason. They were told by certain public writers in this country that the contest was entirely hopeless, as they have been told f lately by the Chancellor of the Exchequer. I ain very happy that though the Chancellor of the Exchequer is able to decide to a penny what shall be the amount of taxes to meet public expenditure in England, he cannot decide what shall be the fate of a whole continent. It was said that the contest was hopeless, and why should the North continue a contest at so much loss of blood and treasure, and so great a loss to the commerce of the Avholc world ? If a man thought if a man believed in his heart that the contest was absolutely hopeless, no man in this country had probably any right to form a positive opinion one way or the other but if he had formed that opinion, he might think, " Well, the North can never be success- ful ; it would be much better that they should not carry on the war at all ; and, therefore, I am rather glad that the South should have success, for, by that, the war will be the sooner put an end to." I think that was a feeling that was abroad. Now, I am of opinion that, if we judge a foreign nation in the circum- stances in which we find America, we ought to apply it to our own principles. My honourable friend has referred, I think, to the question of the Trent. I was not here last year, but I heard of a meeting I read in the papers of a meeting held in reference to that affair in this veiy Hall, and that there was a great diversity of opinion. But the majority were supposed to endorse the policy of the Government in making a great demonstration of force. And I think I read that at least one minister of religion took that view from this platform. I am not com- plaining of it. But I say that if you thought when the American captain, even if he had acted under the commands of his Government, which he had not, had taken two men most injurious and hostile to his country from the deck of an English ship if you thought that on that ground you were justified in going to war with the Republic of North America ; then I say you ought not to be very nice in judging what America should do in circumstances much more onerous than those in which you were placed. Now, take as an illustration the Rock of Gibraltar. Many of you have been there, I dare say. I have ; and among the things that interested me were the monkeys on the top of it, and a good many people at the bottom, who were living on English taxes. Well, the Rock of Gibraltar was taken and retained by this country when we were not at war with Spain, and it was retained contrary to every moral and honourable code. But I will let this pass, and I will assume that it came into the possession of England in the most honourable way, which is, I suppose, by regular and acknowledged national warfare. Suppose, at this moment, you heard, or the English Government heard, that Spain was equipping expeditions, by land and sea, for the purpose of re-taking that fortress and rock now, although it is not of the slightest advan- tage to any Englishman living, excepting to those who have pensions and occupations upon it ; although every Government knows it, and although more than one Government has been anxious to give it up, and I hope this Govern- ment will send my friend, Mr. Cobden, to Madrid, with an offer that Gibraltar shall be ceded to Spain, as being of no use to this country, and only embittering, as statesmen have admitted, the relations between Spain and England (if he were to go to Madrid, with an offer of the Rock of Gibraltar, I believe he might have a commercial treaty with Spain, that would admit every English manufacture, and every article of English produce into that country at a duty of not more than ten per cent.) I say, don't you think that if you heard THE ORATOR. Spain was about to retake that useless rock, mustering her legions and her fleets, that the English Government would combine all the power of this country to resist it p If that be so, then I think seeing that there was a fair election two years ago, and that President Lincoln was fairly and honestly elected that when the Southern leaders met at Montgomery, in Alabama, on the 6th of March, and autho- rized the raising of a hundred thousand men, and when, on the 15th of April, they attacked Fort Sumter not a fort of South Carolina, but a fort of the Union then, upon all the principles that Englishmen and English Govern- ments have ever acted upon, President Lincoln was justified in calling out seventy-five thousand men which was his first call for the purpose of maintaining the integrity of that nation, which was the main purpose of the oath which he had taken at his election. Now I shall not go into a long argument upon this question, for the reason that a year ago I said what I thought it necessary to say upon it, and because I believe the question is in the hand, not of my honourable friend, or in that of Lord Palmerston, or in that even of President Lincoln, but it is in the hand of the Supreme Ruler, who is bringing about one of those great transactions in history which men often will not regard when it is passing before them, but which they look back upon with awe and astonishment some years after they are past. So I shall content myself with asking one or two questions. I shall not discuss the question whether the North is making war for the Constitution, or making war for the aboli- tion of slavery. If you come to a matter of sympathy with the South, or recognition of the South, or mediation or intervention for the benefit of the South, you should consider what are the ends of the South. Surely the United States Government is a Government at amity with this country. Its minister is in London a man honourable by family, as you know, in America, his father and his grandfather having held the office of President of the Republic. You have your own minister just returned to Washington. Is this hypocrisy? Are you, because you can cavil at certain things which the North, the United States Government, has done, or has not done are you eagerly to throw the influence of your opinion into a movement which is to dismember the great Republic ? Is there a man here that doubts for a moment that the object of the war on the part of the South they began the war that the object of the war on the part of the South is to maintain the bondage of four millions of human beings P That is only a small part of it. The further object is to perpetuate for ever the bondage of all the posterity of those four millions of slaves. You will hear that I am not in a condition to NO. III. contest vigorously anything that may be opposed, for I am suffering, as nearly everybody is, from the state of the weather, and a hoarse- ness that somewhat hinders me in speaking. I could quote their own documents till twelve o'clock in proof of what I say ; and, if I found a man who denied, upon the evidence that had been offered, I would not offend him, or trouble myself by trying further to convince him. The object is that a handful of white men on that continent shall lord it over countless millions of blacks, made black by the very hand that made us white. The object is that they should have the power to breed negroes, to work negroes, to lash negroes, to chain negroes, to buy and sell negroes, to deny them the commonest ties oj^ family, or to break their hearts by rending them at their pleasure, to close their mental eye to but a glimpse of that knowledge which sepa- rates us from the brute for in their laws it is criminal and penal to teach the negro to read to seal from their hearts the book of our religion, and to make chattels and things of men and women and children. Now, I want, to ask whether this is to be the foundation, as it is proposed, of a new slave empire, and whether it is intended that on this audacious and infernal basis England's new ally is to be built up. It has been said that Greece was recognised, and that other countries had been recognised. Why, Greece was not recognised till after they had fought Turkey for six years and the Republics of South America, some of them, till they had fought the mother country for a score of years. France did not recognise the United States of America till some, I think six years, five cer- tainly, after the beginning of the War of Inde- pendence, and even then, it was received as a declaration of war by the English Government. I want to know who they arc who speak eagerly in favour of England becoming the ally and friend of this great conspiracy against human nature ? Now I should have no kind of objection to recognise a country because it was a country that held slaves ; to recognise the United States or to be in amity with it. The question of slavery there, and in Cuba, and in Brazil, is, as far as respects the present generation, an accident, and it would be monstrous that we should object to trade with, and have political relations with a country merely because it happened to have within its borders the institution of slavery, hateful as that institution is. But in this case it is a new state intending to set itself up on the sole basis of slavery. Slavery is blasphemously set up to be its chief corner-stone. I have heard that there are ministers of state who are in favour of the South ; that there are members of the aristocracy who are terrified at the shadow of the Great Republic ; that there are rich men on our commercial exchanges, depraved, it may be, with their riches, and thriving unwholesomely 18 THE ORATOR. t, within the atmosphere of a privileged class; that there are conductors of the public press who would barter the rights of millions of their fellow-creatures that they might bask in the smiles of the great. But I know that there are ministers of state who do not wish that this insurrection should break up the American nation ; that there are members of our aristo- cracy who are not afraid of the shadow of the Republic ; that there are rich men, many, who are not depraved by their riches ; and that there are public writers of eminence and honour, who will not barter human rights for the patronage of the great. But most of all, and before all, I believe I am sure it is true in Lancashire, where the working men have seen themselves . coming down from prosperity to ruin, from independence to a subsistence on charity I say that I believe that the unenfranchised, but not hopeless millions of this country, will never sympathise with a revolt which is intended to . ' destroy the liberty of a continent, and to build on its ruins a mighty fabric of human bondage. When I speak to gentlemen in private upon this matter, and hear their own candid opinion I mean those who differ from me on this matter they generally end by saying that the Republic is too great and too powerful, and that it is better for us not " us," meaning you, but the governing classes, and the governing policy of England that it should be broken up. But we will suppose that we are in New York or Boston, and are discussing England ; and if any one there were to say that England has grown too big not in the thirty-one millions that it has in its own island, but in the one hundred and fifty millions it has in Asia, and nobody knows how many millions in every other part of the globe and surely an American might fairly say that he has not covered the ocean .tb fleets of force, or left the bones of his izens to blanch on a hundred European battle- fields he could say, and a thousand times more fairly say, that England was large and powerful, and that it would be perilous for the world that she should be so great. But, bear in mind, that every declaration of this kind, whether from an Englishman who professes to bo strictly English, or from an American strictly American, or from a Frenchman strictly French, whether he talks in a proud and arrogant strain, and says that Britannia rules the waves, or whether, as an American, he speaks of manifest '-. destiny, and of all creation adoring the stars and stripes, or a Frenchman who thinks that the eagles of that nation having once over-run Europe, may possibly have a right to repeat the experiment, I say all these ideas and all that language are to be condemned. It is not truly patriotic; it is not rational; it is not moral. Then, I say, if any man wishes that Republic to be severed on that ground, in my opinion he is only doing what tends to keep alive jealousies which in his hand will never die ; and if they do not die, for anything I see, wars must be eternal. But then, I shall be told that the North do not like us at all. In fact, we have heard it to-night. It is not at all necessary that they should like us. If an American be in this room to-night, will he think he likes my lion, friend ? But if the North does not like England, does anybody believe the South does ? It does not appear to me to be a question of liking or disliking. Everybody knows that when the South was in power and it has been in power for the last fifty years everybody knows that hostility to this country, wherever it existed in America, was cherished and stimulated to the utmost degree by some of those very men who are now leaders of this very insurrection. My lion, friend read a passage about the Alabama. I undertake to say that he is not acquainted with the facts about the Alabama. That he will admit, I think. The Government of this country have admitted that the building of the Alabama, and her sailing from the Mersey, was a violation of international law. In America they say, and they say here, that the Alabama is a ship of war; that she was built in the Mersey that she was built, it is said, and I have reason to believe it, by a member of the British Parliament that she is furnished with guns of English manufacture and produce that she is sailed almost entirely by Englishmen and that these facts were represented, as I know they were represented, to the Collector of Customs in Liverpool, who pooh-poohed them, and said there was nothing in them. He was requested to send the facts up to London to the Customs authorities, and their solicitor, not a very wise man, or probably in favour of breaking up the Republic, did not think them of much consequence, but after- wards the opinion of an eminent counsel, Mr. Collier, the member for Plymouth, was taken, and he stated distinctly that what wus being done in Liverpool was a direct infringe- ment of the Foreign Enlistment Act, and that the Customs authorities of Liverpool would be responsible for anything that happened in con- sequence. When this opinion was taken to the Foreign Office the Foreign Office was a little astonished and a little troubled ; and after they had consulted their own law officers, whose opinions agreed with that of Mr. Collier, they did what Government officers generally do, and as promptly a telegraphic message went down to Liverpool to order that this vessel should be arrested, and she happened to sail an hour or two before the message arrived. She has never been into a Confederate port ; they have not got any ports ; she hoists the English flag when she wants to come alongside a ship ; she THE ORATOR. sets a ship on fire in the night, and when, seeing fire, another ship bears down to lend help, she seizes it, and pillages and burns it. I think that if we were citizens of New York, it would require a little more calmness than is shown in this country to look at all this as if it was a matter with which we had no concern. And, therefore, I do not so much blame the words that have been said in America, in refer- ence to that question. But they do not know in America so much as we know the whole truth about public opinion here. There are Ministers in our Cabinet as resolved to be no traitors to freedom on this question, as I am ; and there are members of the English aristo- cracy, and in, the very highest rank, as I know for a certainty, who hold the same opinion. They do not know in America at least there has been no indication of it until the advices that have come to hand within the last two days what is the opinion of the great body of the working classes in England. There has been eveiy effort that money and malice could use to stimulate in Lancashire, amongst the, suffering population, an expression of opinion in favour of the Slave States. They have not been able to get it. And I honour that popu- lation for their fidelity to principles and to freedom, and I say "that the course they have taken ought to atone in the minds of the people of the United States for miles of leading articles, written by the London press by men who would barter every human right, that they might serve the party with which they are associated. But now I shall ask yon one other question before I sit down, how comes it that on the Continent there is not a liberal newspaper, nor a liberal politician that durst say, or ever thought of saying a word in favour of this portentous and monstrous shape which now asks to be received into the family of nations ? ' Take the great Italian ministe"r, Count Cavour. You read some time ago in the papers part of a despatch which he wrote on the question of America he had no difficulty in deciding. Ask Garibaldi. Is there in Europe a more disin- terested and generous friend of freedom than Garibaldi ? Ask that illustrious Hungarian, to whose marvellous eloquence you once listened in this Hall. Will he tell you that slavery had nothing to do with it, and that the slaveholders of the South would liberate the negroes sooner than the North through the instrumentality of the war ? Ask Victor Hugo, the poet of freedom the exponent, may I not call him, of the yeanlings of all mankind for a better time. Ask any man in Europe who opens his lips for freedom who dips his pen in ink that he may indite a sentence for freedom whoever has a sympathy for freedom warm in his own heart ; ask him he will have no difficulty in telling you on which side your sympathies should lie. Only a few days ago a German merchant in Manchester was speaking to a friend of mine, and said he had recently travelled all through Germany, He said, " I am so surprised ; I don't find one man in favour of the South." That is not true of Germany only, it is true of all the world except this island, famed for freedom, in which we dwell. I will tell you what is the reason. Our London press is mainly in the hands of certain ruling West End classes; it acts and writes in favour of those classes. I . will tell you what they mean. One of th#naost eminent statesmen in this country o?ne who' has rendered the greatest services to the country though, I must say not in an official capacity, in which men very seldom confer such great advantages upon the country he told me twice at an interval of several months, " Iliad no idea how much influence the example of that Re- public was having upon opinion here, until I discovered the universal congratulation that the Republic was likely to be broken up." But, sir, uhe Free States are the home of the working man. N-ew, I speak to working men particu- larly at this moment. Do you know that in fifteen years 2,500,000 persons, men, women, and children, have left the United Kingdom to find a home in the Free States of America ? That is a population equal tonight great cities of the size of Birmingham. What would you think of eight Birminghams being transplanted from this country and set down in the United States ? Speaking generally, every man of these two- and-a-half millions is in a position of much higher comfort and prosperity than he would have been if he had remained in this country. 1 say it is the home of the working man ; as one of her poets has recently said : " For her free latch-string never was drawn in Against the poorest child of Adam's kin." And there, there are no six millions of grown- men I speak of the Free States excluded from the constitution of their country and their electoral franchise there, there is a free Church a free school, free land, a free vote, and a free career for the ehild of the humblest-born in the land. My countrymen, who work for your living, remember this ; there will be one wild shriek of freedom to startle all mankind, if that ^ American Republic should bo overthrown-:', Now, for one moment let us lift ourselves, if we ' can, above the narrow circle in which we are all too apt to live and think ; let us put ourselves on an historical eminence, and judge this matter fairly. Slavery has been, as we all know, tn4 huge, foul blot upon the fame of the American Republic; it is a hideous outrage against human right and against Divine law ; but the pride, the passion of man will not permit its peaceable extinction ; the slave-owners of our colonies, if they had been strong enough, would 20 THE ORATOR. have revolted too. I believe there was no mode short of a miracle more stupendous than any recorded in Holy Writ that could in our time, or in a century, have brought about the aboli- tion of slavery in America, but the suicide which the South has committed and the war which they have commenced. Sir, it is a mea- sureless calamity this war. I said the Rus- sian -war was a measureless calamity, and yet many of your leaders and friends told you that was a just war to maintain the integrity of Turkey, some thousands of miles off. Surely the integrity of your own countiy at your own doors must be worth as much as the integrity of Turkey. Is not this war the penalty which inexorable justice exacts from America, North and South, for the enormous guilt of cherishing that frightful iuiquity of slavery for the last eighty years ? I do not blame any man here who thinks the cause of the North hopeless, and the restoration of the Union impossible. It may be hopeless ; the restoration may be im- possible. " ""You have the authority of the Chan- cellor of ffiy? Exchequer on that point. The Chancellor, \,s a speaker, is not surpassed by any man in^ England ; but unfortunately he made use of expressions in the North of Eng- land now, H suppose, nearly three months ago and he scans to have been engaged during the whole succeeding three months in trying to make people linderstand what he meant. But this is obvious that he believes the cause of the North to te hopeless ; that their enterprise cannot succeed. Well, he is quite welcome to that opinion, fend so is anybody else. I do not hold the opinion, but the facts are before us all, and as far! as we can discard passion and sympathy, we are all equally at liberty to form . our own opinion.) But what I do blame is (his. I blame men who are eager to admit into the family of nations, a State which offers itself to you as based upon a principle, I will undertake to say more odious and more blas- phemous than was ever heretofore dreamt of in CHri&tian or Pagan, in civilized or in savage time**./ The leaders of this revolt propose this monstrous thing that over a territory forty times as large as England, the blight and curse of slavery shall be for ever perpetuated. I cannot believe, myself, in such a fate befalling that fair land, stricken as it now is with the ravages of war. I cannot believe that civili/n- 1 ion in its journey with the sun will sink into rmlless night to gratify the ambition of the leaders of this revolt, who seek to " \Vade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind." I have a far other and far brighter vision before my gaze. It may be but a vision, but I will cherish it. I sec one vast Confederation stretch- ing from the frozen North in unbroken line to the glowing South, and from the wild billows of the Atlantic, westward to the calmer waters of the Pacific main and I see one people, and one law, and^one language, and one faith, over all that wide continent, the home of freedom, and a refuge for the oppressed of every race and of every clime. / CHARLES DICKENS. Born 1812. [THE name of Charles Dickens is not perhaps often associated with oratory. The inclination of Mr. Dickens has apparently been rather to withdraw himself from the burdensome activities of public life, and he has, in accordance with such inclination, (on more than one occasion, it is believed,) declined the offer of parlia- mentary honours. The few speeches, however, which he has from time to time delivered in public, have been characterized by many marks of true eloquence; andupon all subjects connected with the advancement, education, and general welfare of the great masses of his fellow- countrymen, he has always spoken as a true and con- sistent champion of the noblest principles of toleration and sympathy. Above all things, that large-hearted charity and genial common sense, which are among the chief and best attributes of his world-famous writings, are found also to pervade and animate his oratory. The speech which has been here selected as a specimen of Mr. Dickens's genius in this comparatively unculti- vated field of his powers, was delivered in the year 1843 at the opening of the Athenaeum at 'Manchester. The address abounds with sterling thought, bright humour, and the soundest common sense.] MECHANICS' INSTITUTES. T ADIES AND GENTLEMEN I am sure I JU need scarcely tell you that I am very proud and happy, and that I take it as a great distinc- tion, to be asked to come amongst you on an occasion such as this, when even with the bril- liant and beautiful spectacle which I see before me, I can hail it as the most brilliant and beautiful circumstance of all, that we assemble together here, even here, upon neutral ground, where we have no more knowledge of party differences, or public animosities between side and side, or between man and man, than if we were a public meeting in the commonwealth of Utopia. Ladies and gentlemen, upon this and upon a hundred other grounds, this assembly is not less interesting to me, believe me, although personally almost a stranger here, than it is interesting to you ; and I take it, that it is not of greater importance to all of us than it is to every man who has learned to know that he has an interest in the moral and social elevation, the harmless relaxation, the peace, happiness, and improvement, of the community at large. Not even those who saw the first foundation of your Athenfeum laid, and watched its progress, as I know they did, almost as tenderly as if it were the progress of a living creature, until it reared its beautiful front an honour to the town, not even they, nor even you, who within its walls have tasted its usefulness and put it to the proof, have greater reason, I am persuaded, to exult in its establishment, or to hope that it THE ORATOR. 21 may thrive and prosper, than scores of thousands at a distance, who whether consciously or unconsciously matters not have, in the prin- ciple of its success and bright example, a deep and personal concern. It well becomes, par- ticularly well becomes, this enterprising town, this little world of labour, that she should stand out foremost in the foremost rank in such a cause. It well becomes her, that among her numerous and noble public institutions, she should have a splendid temple sacred to the education and improvement of a large class of those who, in their various useful stations, assist in the production of our wealth, and in render- ing her name famoiis through the world. I think it is grand to know, that while her factories re-echo with the clanking of stupen- dous engines and the whirl and rattle of machinery, the immortal mechanism of God's own hand, the mind, is not forgotten in the din and uproar, but is lodged and tended in a palace of its own. Ladies and gentlemen, that it is a structure deeply fixed and rooted in the public spirit of this place, and built to last, I have no more doubt, judging from the spectacle I see before me, and from what I know of its brief history, than I have of the reality of these walls that hem us in, and the pillars that spring up about us. You are perfectly well aware, I have no doubt, that the Athenaeum was pro- jected at a time when commerce was in a vigorous and flourishing condition, and when those classes of society to which it particularly addresses itself were fully employed, and in the receipt of regular incomes. A season of depres- sion almost without a parallel ensued, and large numbers of young men employed in warehouses and offices suddenly found their occupation gone, and themselves reduced to veiy straitened and penurious circumstances. This altered state of things led, as I am told, to the com- pulsory withdrawal of many of the members, to a proportionate decrease in the expected funds, ami to the incurrence of a debt of 3,000. By the veiy great zeal and energy of all concerned, and by the liberality of those to whom they applied for help, that debt is now in rapid course of being discharged. A little more of the same indefatigable exertion on the one hand, and a little more of the same community of feeling upon the other, and there will 1x3 no such thing ; the figures will be blotted out for good and all, and from that time the Athe- na3um may be said to belong to you and to your heirs for ever. But, ladies and gentlemen, at all times now, in its most thriving, and in its least flourishing condition here, with its cheer- ful rooms ; its pleasant and instructive lectures ; its improving library of 6,000 volumes; its classes for the study of the foreign languages, elocution, music ; its opportunities of discussion and debate, of healthful bodily exercise ; and, though last, not least, for by this I set great store as a very novel and excellent provision, its opportunities of blameless, rational enjoy- ment; here it is, open to every youth and man in this great town, accessible to every bee in this vast hive, who, for all these benefits, and the inestimable ends to which they lead, can set aside one sixpence weekly. I do look upon the reduction of the subscription to {hat amount, and upon the fact that the number of members has considerably more than double^ ' within the last twelve months, as strides in the - path of the very best civilization, and chapters of rich promise in the history of mankind. I don't know whether, at this time of day^ and . with such a prospect before us, we need trouble ourselves very much to rake up the ashes of the dead-and-gone objections that were wont to be urged by men of all parties against institutions such as this, whose interests we are met to promote ; but their philosophy was always to . be summed up in the unmeaning application of one short sentence. How often have we heard, from a large class of men, wise in their genera- tion, who would really seem to be born and bred for no other purpose than to pass into currency counterfeit and mischievous scraps of wisdom, as it is the sole pursuit of some other criminals to utter base coin, how often have we heard from them, as an all-convincing argument, that " a little learning is a dangerous thing " ! Why, a little hanging was considered a very dangerous thing, according to the same authorities, with this difference, that, because a little hanging was dangerous, we had a great deal of it ; and because a little learning was dangerous, we were to have none at all. Why, when I hear such cruel absurdities gravely reiterated, I do sometimes begin to doubt whether the parrot? of society are not more pernicious to its inter- ests than its birds of prey. I should be glad to hear such people's estimate of the comparative danger of " a little learning," and a vast amount of ignorance ; I should be glad to know which they consider the most prolific parent of misery and ciime. Descending a little lower in the social scale, I should be glad to assist them in their calculations, by carrying them into certain gaols and nightly refuges I know of, where my own heart dies within me, when I see thousands of immortal creatures, condemned, without alternative or choice, to tread, not what our great poet calls " The primrose path to the everlasting bonfire," but one of jagged flints and stones, laid down by brutal ignorance, and held together like the solid rocks by years of this most wicked axionii Would we know, from any honourable body of merchants, upright in deed and thought, whether they would rather have ignorant or enlightened persons in their own employment? Why, we 22 THE ORATOK. have had their answer in this building ; we have it in this company ; we have it emphatically given in the munificent generosity of your own merchants of Manchester, of all sects and kinds, when this establishment was first proposed. But, ladies and gentlemen, are the advantages derivable by the people from institutions siich as this, only of a negative character? If a little learning be an innocent thing, has it no distinct, wholesome, and immediate influence upon the mind? The old doggrel rhyme, so often written in the beginning of books, says that . " When house and lands are gone and spent, " Then learning is most excellent ; " but I should be strongly disposed to reform the adage, and say that " Though house and lands be never got, Learning can give what they can not." And this -I know, that the first unpurchasable blessirig earned by every man who makes an effort to improve himself in such a place as the AthenEeum, is self-respect an inward dignity of character, which, once acquired and righteously maintained, nothing no, not the hardest drudgery, nor the direst poverty can van- quish. Though he should find it hard for a season even to keep the wolf, hunger, from his door, let him but once have chased the dragon, ignorance, from his hearth, and self-respect and . hope are left him. You could no more deprive him of those sustaining qualities by loss or destruction of his worldly goods, than you .could, by plucking out his eyes, take from him ;iu internal consciousness of the bright glory of the gun. The man who lives from day to day 'by the daily exercise, in his sphere, of hands or , ' head, and seeks to improve himself in such a place as the Athenseutn, acquires for himself that propeiiy of soul which has in all times upheld struggling men of every degree, but self-made men especially and always. He secures to himself that faithful companion which, while it has ever lent the light of its countenance to men of rank and eminence who have deserved it, has ever shed its brightest consolations on men of low estate and almost hopeless moans. It took its patient scat beside Sir Walter Raleigh in his dungeon study in the Tower ; it laid its head upon the block with More ; but it did not disdain to watch the stars with Ferguson, the shepherd's boy ; it walked the streets in mean attire with Crabbe ; it was a poor barber here in Lancashire with Ark- .wright; it was a tallow-chandler's son with Franklin ; it worked at shoemaking with Bloomfield in his garret ; it followed the plough with Burns ; and, high above the noise of loom and hammer, it whispers courage even at this day in ears I could name in Sheffield and in Manchester. The more the man who improves his leisure in such a place learns, the better, gentler, kinder man he must become. When he knows how much great minds have suffered for the truth in every age and time, and to what dismal persecutions opinion has been exposed, he will become more tolerant of other men's belief in all matters, and will incline more leniently to their sentiments when they chance to differ from his own. Understanding that the relations between himself and his employers involve a mutual duty and responsi- bility, he will discharge his part of the implied contract cheerfully, satisfactorily, and honour- ably ; for the history of every useful life warns him to shape his course in that direction. The benefits he acquires in such a place are not of a selfish kind, but extend themselves to his home, and to those whom it contains. Something of what he hears or reads within such walls can scarcely fail to become at times a topic of discourse by his own fireside, nor can it ever fail to lead to larger sympathies with man, and to a higher veneration for the great Creator of all the wonders of this universe. It appeals to his home and his homely feeling in other ways ; for at certain times he carries there his wife and daughter, or his sister, or, possibly, some bright- eyed acquaintance of a more tender description. Judging from what I see before me, I think it is veiy likely; I am sure I would if I could. He takes her there to enjoy a pleasant evening, to be gay and happy. Sometimes it may pos- sibly happen that he dates his tenderness from the Athena3um. I think that is a very excel- lent thing, too, and not the least among the advantages of the institution. In any case, I am sure the number of bright eyes and beaming faces which grace this meeting to-night by their- presence will never be among the least of its excellences in my recollection. Ladies and gentlemen, I shall not easily forget this scene, the pleasing task your favour has devolved upon me, or the strong and inspiring confirma- tion I have to-night, of all the hopes and reliances I have ever placed upon institutions of this nature. In the latter point of view, in their bearing upon this latter point, I re- gard them as of great importance, deeming that the more intelligent and reflective society in the mass becomes, and the more readers there are, the more distinctly writers of all kinds will be able to throw themselves upon the truthful feeling of the people, and the more honoured and the more useful literature must be. At the same time I must confess, that, if there had been an Athenaeum, and if the people had been readers years ago, some leaves of dedi- cation in your library, of praise of patrons, which was veiy cheaply bought, very dearly sold, and veiy marketably haggled for by the groat, would be blank leaves, and posterity might probably have lacked the informatics THE ORATOR. 23 that certain monsters of virtue ever had exist- ence. But it is upon a much better and wider scale, let me say it once again, that it is in the effect of such institutions upon the great social system, and the peace and happiness of man- kind, that I delight to contemplate them ; and, in my heart I am quite certain, that long after your institution, and others of the same nature, have crumbled into dust, the noble harvest of the seed sown in them will shine o\it brightly in the wisdom, the mercy, and the forbearance of another race. OLIVER CROMWELL. Son 1599. Died 1G58. DISSOLUTION OF THE SECOND PROTECTORATE PARLIAMENT, FEB. 4TH, 1657-8. I HAD very comfortable expectations that God would make the meeting of this Parliament a blessing; and the Lord be my witness I desired the carrying-on the affairs of the nation to these ends. The blessing which I mean, and which we ever climbed at, was mercy, truth, righteousness, and peace; and which I desire may be improved. That which brought me into the capacity I now stand in, was the petition and advice given me by you ; who, in reference to the ancient constitution, did draw me to accept of the place of Protector. There is not a man living can say I sought it ; no, not a man nor woman treading upon English ground; but contemplating the sad condition of these nations, relieved from an intestine war, into a six or seven years' peace, I did think the nation happy therein. But to be petitioned thereunto, and advised by you to undertake such a government, a burden too heavy for any creature, and this to be done by the House that then had the legislative capa- city ; I did look that the same men that made the frame, should make it good unto me. I can say, in the presence of God, in comparison with whom we are but like poor creeping ants upon the earth, I would have been glad to have lived under my wood side, to have kept a flock of sheep, rather than undertook such a government as this is ; but, undertaking it by the advice and petition of j r ou, I did look that you that had offered it unto me, should make it good. I did tell you, at a conference concerning it, that I would not undertake it, unless there might be some other persons that might inter- pose between me and the House of Commons, who then had the power to prevent tumultuary and popular spirits, and it was granted I should name another House. I named it of men that shall meet you wheresoever you go, and shake hands with you, and tell you it is not titles, nor lords, nor party, that they value, but a Christian and an English interest ; men of your own rank and quality, who will not only be a balance unto you, but to themselves, while you love England and religion. Having proceeded upon these terms, and finding such a spirit as is too much predominant, everything being too high or too low, when virtue, honesty, piety, and justice, are omitted, I thought I had been doing that which was my duty, and thought it would have satisfied you ; but if everything must be too high or too low, you are not to be satisfied. Again, I would not have accepted of the government, unless I knew there would Jbe a just accord between the governor and' the go- verned; unless they would take an oath to make good what the Parliament's petition and advice . advised me unto ; upon that I took an oath, and they took another oath upon their part, answer- able to mine ; and did not every one know upon what condition they swore ? God knows, I took it upon the conditions expressed in the govern- ment, and I did think we had bee,n upon a foundation, and upon a bottom ; and thereupon I thought myself bound to take it, and to be advised by the two Houses of Parliament ; and we standing unsettled till we were arrived at that, the consequences would necessarily have . been confusion, if that had not been settled. Yet there are not constituted hereditary lords, nor hereditary kings ; the power consisting in the two Houses and myself. I do not say that was " the meaning of your oath to yourselves, that were to go against my own principles, to enter upon another man's conscience. God will jud between me and you. If there had been in A any intention of settlement, you would hn settled upon this basis, and have offered your judgment and opinion. God is my witness, I speak it, it is evident to all the world, and all people living, that a new business hath been seeking in the army, against this actual settlement made by your consent. I do not speak to these gentlemen, or lords, (pointing to his right hand,) whatsoever you will call them. I speak not this to them, but to you ; you advised me to run into this place ; to be in a capacity by your advice ; yet instead of owning a thing taken for granted, some must have I know not what ; and you have not only disjointed yourselves, but the whole nation, which is in likelihood of running into more confusion, in these fifteen or sixteen days that you have sat, than it hath been from the raising of the last session to this day ; through the ' intention of devising a commonwealth again, that some of the people might be the men that might rule all; and they are endeavouring to engage the army to carry that thing. And hath that man been true to this nation, whosoever lie be, especially that hath taken an oath, thus to prevaricate ? These designs have been among 24 THE OEATOB. the army to break and divide us. I speak this in the presence of some of the army, that these things have not been according to God, nor according to truth, pretend what you will. These things tend to nothing else but the play- ing the king of Scots' game, if I may so call him ; and I think myself bound, before God, to do what I can to prevent it. That which I told you in the Banqueting House was true ; that there were preparations of force to invade us ; God is my witness, it has been confirmed to me since, within a day, that the king of Scots hath an army at the water side, ready to be shipped for England. I have it from those who have been eye-witnesses of it; and while it is doing, there are endeavours from some, who are not far from this place, to stir up the people of this town into a tiimulting. What if I had said into a rebellion ? And I hope I shall make it appear to be no better, if God assist me. It hath been not only your endeavour to pervert the army, while you have been sitting, and to draw them to state the question about the commonwealth ; but some of you have been listing of persons, by commission of Charles Stuart, to join with any insurrection that may be made. And what is like to come upon this, the enemy being ready to invade us, but even present blood and confusion P And if this be so, I do assign to this cause your not assenting to what you did invite me to by the petition and advice, as that which might be the settlement of the nation ; and if this be the end of your sitting, and this be your carriage, I think it high time that an end be put unto your sitting, and I do dissolve this Parliament. And let God judge between me and you. JOHN MILTON. Born 1608. Died 1674. EIGHTS AND RESPONSIBILITIES OP THE PHESS. I DENY not, but that it is of greatest con- cernment in the church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye how books demean them- selves as well as men ; and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors ; for books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a progeny of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are ; nay, they do preserve as in a vial the purest efficacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed men. And yet, on the other hand, unless wariness be used, as good almost kill a man as kill a good book : who kills a man kiUs a reasonable crea- ture, God's image ; but he who destroys a good book, kills reason itself, kills the image of God, as it were, in the eye. Many a man lives a burden to the earth ; but a good book is the precious life-blood of a master-spirit, embalmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond life. It is true, no age can restore a life, whereof, perhaps, there is no great loss ; and revolutions of ages do not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for the want of which whole nations fare the worse. We should be wary, therefore, what persecutions we raise against the living labours of public men, how we spill that seasoned life of man, preserved and stored up in books ; since we see a kind of homicide may be thus commit- ted, sometimes a martyrdom ; and if it extend to the whole impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execxition ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes at the ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason itseh"; and slays an immortality rather than a life. LORD BROUGHAM. Lorn 1778. [SPEECH of Mr. Brougham, in defence of Queen Caroline, the Consort of King George the Fourth, on the 3rd and 4th October, 1820, at her trial before the House of Lords, for adultery with Bergami, an Italian in her service. The proceedings instituted by George the Fourth against his unfortunate and injured wife, for the pur- pose of degrading her and dissolving the marriage, have become a matter of history, and there is no reason to enter here into the details of that disgraceful inquiry. The exhibition of a sovereign, himself the most unfaith- ful of husbands, suborning a host of unscrupulous Italians to perjure themselves for the sake of freeing him from a wife whom he did not fancy, might well be suffered to pass unnoticed by us, if it were not for the necessary slight thereby to some of the noblest ora- torical efforts of English lawyers. Though the proceedings ended in the withdrawal of the Bill of Degradation and Divorce, the persecution of the Queep still continued. Her name was not inserted in the Liturgy, and her coronation was refused. The effect of her sorrows upon her mind and body may be traced in the inscription she desired to have placed upon her coffin: "Caroline of Brunswick, the murdered Queen of England."] DEFENCE or QUEEN CAROLINE. MY LORDS, the Princess Caroline of Bruns- wick arrived in this country in the year 1795 the niece of our sovereign, the intended consort of his heir-apparent, and herself not a very remote heir to the crown of these realms. But I now go back to that period only for the purpose of passing over all the interval which elapsed between her arrival then and her de- parture in 1814. I rejoice that, for the present at least, the most faithful discharge of my duty . permits me to draw this veil ; but I cannot do j so without pausing for an instant, to guard myself against a misrepresentation to which I THE ORATOR. know this cause may not unnaturally be ex- posed, and to assure your lordships most solemnly, that if I did not think that the cause of the Queen, as attempted to be established by the evidence against her, not only does not require recrimination at present, not only imposes no duty of even uttering one whisper, whether by way of attack or by way of insinua- tion, against the conduct of her illustrious hus- band ; but that it rather prescribes to me, for the present, silence upon this great and painful head of the case, I solemnly assure your lordships, that but for this conviction, my lips on that branch would NOT be closed; for, in discretionally abandoning the exercise of the power which I feel I have, in postponing for the present the statement of that case of which I am possessed, I feel confident that I am waiving a right which I possess, and abstaining from the use of materials which are mine. And let it not be thought, my lords, that if either now I did conceive, or if hereafter I should so far be disappointed in my expectation that the case against me will fail, as to feel it necessary to exercise that right, let no man vainly sup- pose that not only I, but that any, the youngest member of the profession, would hesitate one moment in the fearless discharge of his para- mount duty. I once before took leave to re- mind your lordships, which was unnecessary, but there are many whom it may be necessary to remind, that an advocate, by the sacred duty which he owes his client, knows, in the discharge of that office, but one person in the world, THAT CLIENT, AND NONE OTHER. To Save that client by all expedient means, to protect that client at all hazards and costs to all others, and among others to himself, is the highest and most unquestioned of his duties ; and he must not regard the alarm the suffering the torment the destruction which he may bring upon any other. Nay, separating even the duties of a patriot from those of an advocate, and casting them, if need be, to the wind, he must go on reckless of the consequences, if his fate it should unhappily be, to involve his country in confusion for his client's protection !* * * * * See, my lords, the unhappy fate of this illustrious woman ! It has been her lot always to lose her surest stay, her best protector, when the dangers most thickened around her ; and, by a coincidence almost miraculous, there has hardly been one of her defenders withdrawn from her, that his loss has not been the signal for an attack upon her existence. Mr. Pitt was her earliest defender and friend in this country. He died in 1806 ; and, but a few weeks after- wards, the first inquiry into the conduct of Her * Recrimination implied, if it did not include, the Roman Catholic marriage, and forfoiture of the crown. NO. IV. Royal Highness began. He left her a legacy to Mr. Perceval, her firm, dauntless, most able advocate. And, no sooner had the hand of an assassin laid Mr. Perceval low, than she felt the calamity of his death, in the renewal of the attacks, which his gallantry, his skill, and his invariable constancy had discomfited. M*r. Whitbread then undertook her defence; and, when that catastrophe happened, which all good men lament without any distinction, of party or sect, again commenced the distant growling of the storm ; for it then, happily, was never allowed to approach her, because her daughter stood her friend, and some there were who worshipped the rising sun. But, when she lost that amiable and beloved child, all which might have been expected by her all which might have been dreaded by her if she had not been innocent all she did dread because who, innocent or guilty, loves persecution ? who de- lights in trial, even when character and honour are safe? all was at once allowed' -to burst upon her head ; and the operations began with the Milan Commission. And, as if there were no possibility of the Queen losing a protector without some most important scene against her being played in this too real drama, the day which saw the venerable remains of our revered sovereign consigned to the tomb of that sovereign who, from the first outset of the Princess in English life, had been her constant and steady defender that same sun ushered the ringleader of the band of perjured witnesses into the palace of his illustrious successor ! Why do I mention these things ? Not for the sake of making so trite a remark, as that trading politicians are selfish that spite is twin-brother to ingratitude that nothing will bind base natures that favours conferred, and the duty of gratitude neglected, only make those natures the more spiteful and malignant. My lords, the topic would be trite and general, and I should be ashamed to trouble you with it ; but I say this, in order to express once more my deep sense of the unworthiness with which I now succeed such powerful defenders, and my alarm lest my exertions should fail to do what theirs must have accomplished had they survived. * * * * But, my lords, I wish I could stop here. There are features of peculiar enormity in the other parts of this case ; and in proportion as these disgusting scenes are of a nature to annoy every one, however unconcerned in the cause, who hears them ; to disgust and almost con- taminate the mind of every one who is con- demned to listen to them ; in that proportion is especial care taken that they shall not be done in a corner. The place for them is not chosen in the hidden recesses of those receptacles of abomination with which the continent abounds, 26 THE ORATOK. under the debased and vilified name of palaces ; the place is not chosen in the hidden haunts which Inst has degraded to its own purposes, some island where vice concealed itself from the public eye of ancient times ; it is not in those palaces, in those Capreas of old, that the parties choose to commit such abominations ; but they do it before witnesses, in the light of open day, when the sun is at the meridian. And that is not enough : the doing those deeds of. unnatural sin in the public highways is not enough ; but they must have a courier of their own to witness them, without the veil of any one part of the furniture of a carnage, or of their own dress, to conceal from his eye their disgraceful situation ! My lords, I ask your lordships whether vice was ever known before so unwary ; whether folly was ever known so extravagant ; whether unthinking passion, even *in the most youthful period, when the passions swell high, and the blood boils in the veins, was ever known to act so thoughtlessly, so reck- lessly, so madly, as this case compels me to fancy, as these shameless witnesses pretend to represent ? And when you have put the facts to your minds, let this consideration dwell there, and let it operate as a check, when you come to examine the evidence by which the case is supported. But all this is nothing. Their kindness to the enemy their faithfulness to the plot against themselves their determination to work their own ruin would be left short indeed, if it had gone no farther than this ; for it would then depend upon the good fortune of their adver- sary in getting hold of the witnesses ; at least it might be questionable, whether the greater part of their precautions for their own destruc- tion might not have been thrown away. Therefore, eveiy one of these witnesses, without any exception, is either dismissed without a cause, for I say the causes are mere flimsiness personified, or is refused to be taken back, upon his earnest and humble solicitations, when there was every human inducement to restore them to favour. Even this is not all. Knowing what she had done ; recollecting her own con- trivances; aware of all these cunning and elaborate devices towards her own undoing; having before her eyes the picture of all those schemes to render detection inevitable and con- cealment impossible ; reflecting that she had given the last finishing stroke to this conspiracy of her own, by turning off these witnesses causelessly, and putting them into the power of her enemy; knowing that that enemy had taken advantage of her ; knowing the witnesses were here to destroy her, and told, that if she faced them she was undone ; and desired, and counselled, and implored, again and again, to bethink her well before she ran so enormous a risk: the Queen comes to England, and is here, on this spot, and confronts those wit- nesses whom she had herself enabled to undo her. Menaced with degradation and divorce knowing it was not an empty threat that was held out and seeing the denunciation was about to be accomplished up to this hour she refuses all endeavours towards a compromise of her honour and her rights ; she refuses a mag- nificent retreat and the opportunity of an unrestrained indulgence in all her criminal pro- pensities, and even a safeguard and protection from the court of England, and a vindication of her honour from the two Houses of Parliament ! If, my lords, this is the conduct of guilt ; if these are the lineaments by which vice is to be traced in the human frame ; if these are the symptoms of that worst of all states, dereliction of principle carried to excess, when it almost becomes a mental disease ; then I have misread human nature ; then I have weakly and groundlessly come to my con- clusion ; for I have always understood that guilt was wary, and innocence alone improvident. * * * * My lord?, I would remind you of an argu- ment which is used in the present case, and which I was rather surprised to hear that some persons had been so very regardless of the details, as to allow to influence their otherwise acute and ingenious minds. JFhey say, that if this is a plot if the witnesses are speaking what is untrue they have not sworn enough ; that they ought to have proved it home, as it were ; that they ought to have convinced all mankind, of acts having been unequivocally done which nothing but guilt could account for, acts which were utterly inconsistent with the supposition of innocence. My lords, can those who argue thus, have forgotten two things which eveiy man knows, one common to all cases, and the other happening in every stage of this, namely, that the most effectual way, because the safest, of laying a plot, is not to swear too hard, is not to swear too much, or to come too directly to the point ; but to lay the foundation in existing facts and real circum- stances, to knit the false with the true, to interlace reality with fiction, to build the fn.-nf.ifn1 fyKnViipvn that which exists- i nature / and to escape detection by taking most espe- cial care, as they have done here, never to have two witnesses to the same facts, and also to make the facts as moderate, and as little offen- sive as possible. The architects of this structure have been well aware of these principles, and have followed these known rules of fabrication throughout. At Naples, why were not other people called ? Why were there never two witnesses to the same fact? Because it is dangerous ; because, when you are inventing a plot, you should have one witness to a fact, and THE ORATOR. 27 another to a confirmation; have some things true, which unimpeachable evidence can prove ; other things fabricated, without which the true would be of no avail, but avoid calling two witnesses to the same thing at the same time, because the cross-examination is extremely likely to make them contradict each other. * * * * But again, my lords am I to be told by those who have attended to this evidence, that there has been any very great short-coming in the swearing of some of the witnesses, that they have not sworn unequivocally, that they have not proved the facts ? Why, what more convincing proof of adultery would you have, than you have had in this case, if you believe the witnesses, and they are uncontradicted ? I should not indeed say, if they are uncontra- dicted ; for I contend that your lordships ought not to compel me to contradict such witnesses-; but if you believe the witnesses, you have a case of adultery as plainly substantiated in proof as ever gained verdict in Westminster Hall, or ever procured Divorce Bill to pass through your lordships' house. All that Demont tells, all that Majocchi tells, every tittle of what Sacchi tells at the end of his evidence, is proof positive of the crime of adultery. If you believe Sacchi, adultery is the least of her crimes she is as bad as Messalina she is worse, or as bad as the Jacobins of Paris covered even themselves with eternal infamy by endeavouring to prove Marie Antoinette to have been. My lords, I have another remark to make, before I leave this case. I have heard it said, by some acute sifters of evidence, " Oh ! you have damaged the witnesses, but only by proving falsehoods, by proving perjury indeed, in unimportant particulars." I need but remind your lordships, that this is an observation which can only come from the lay part of the com- munity. Any lawyer at once will see how ridiculous, if I may so speak, such an objection must always be. It springs from an entire confusion of ideas ; a heedless confounding together of different things. . 'If I am to con- firm the testimony of an accomplice if I am to set up an informer no doubt my confirma- tion ought to extend to matters connected with the crime no doubt it must be an important particular, else it will avail me nothing to prove it by way of confirmation. But it is quite the reverse in respect to pulling down a perjured witness, or a witness suspected of swearing falsely. It is quite enough if he perjure him- self in any part, to take away all credit from the whole of his testimony. Can it be said that you are to pick and choose ; that you are to believe part, and reject the rest as false ? You may, indeed, be convinced that a part is true, notwithstanding other parts are false provided those parts are not falsely and wilfully sworn to by the witness, but parts which he may have been ignorant of, or may have forgotten, or may have mistaken. In., this sense, you may choose culling the part you believe, and sepa- rating the part you think contradicted. But if one part is not only not true is not only not consistent with the fact, but is falsely and wilfully sworn to on his part if you are satis- fied that one part of his stoiy is an invention to use the plain word, a lie, and that he is -a forsworn man good God ! my lords, what safety is there for human kind against the malice of their -enemies what chance of innocence escap- ing from the toils of the perjured and unprin- cipled conspirator, if you are to believe part of a tale, even though ten witnesses swear to it, all of whom you convict of lying and perjury in some other part of the story ? I only pray your lordships to consider what it is that forms- the safeguard of each and eveiy one of you against the arts of the mercenary or the spiteful conspirator. Suppose any one man, and let each of your lordships lay this to his mind before you dismiss the mighty topic, suppose any one of your lordships were to meet with a misfortune, the greatest that can befall a human being, and the greater in proportion as he is of an honourable mind, whose soul is alien even to any idea or glance of suspicion of such a case being possible to himself, whose feelings shudder at the bare thought of his name even being accidentally coupled with a charge at which his nature revolts suppose that mischance, which has happened to the best and purest of men, which may happen to any of you to-morrow, and which if it does happen must succeed against you to-morrow, if you adopt the prin- ciple I am struggling against suppose any one of your lordships charged by a mercenary- scoundrel with the perpetration of a crime at which we show in this country our infinite horror, by almost, and with singular injustice, considering the bare charge to stand in the place of proof suppose this plot laid to defame the fairest reputation in England I say, that reputation must be saved, if escape it may, only by one means. No perjury can be expected to be exposed in the main, the principal part of the fabric that can be easily defended from any attack against it; all the arts of the defendant's counsel, and all his experience, will be exhausted in vain : the plotter knows full well (as these conspirators have here done) how to take care that only one person shall swear to a fact, to lay no others present, to choose the time and select the place when contradiction cannot be given, by knowing the time and the place where any one of your lordships, whom he marks for his prey, may have chanced to be alone at any moment of time. Contradiction is not here to be expected, refutation is impos- 28 THE OEATOB, sible. Prevarication of the ' witness upon the principal part of his case, beyond all doubt, by every calculation of chances, there will not be. But you will be defended by counsel ; and the court before whom yon are tried will assuredly have you acquitted, if the villain, who has im- movably told a consistent, firm tale, though not contradicted, though not touched upon the story itself, tells the least falsehood upon the most unimportant particulars on which your advocate shall examine him. My lords, I ask for the Queen no other justice than this upon which you all rely, and must needs rely, for your own escape from the charge of unnatural crimes ! I desire she may have no other safety than that which forms the only safety to any one of your lordships in such cases, before any court that deserved the name of a court of justice, where it might be your lot to be dragged and tried ! I am told that the sphere of life in which Bergami, afterwards promoted to be the Queen's chamberlain, originally moved, compared with the fortune which has since attended him in her service, is of itself matter of suspicion. I should be sorry, my lords, to have lived to see the day, when nothing more was required to ruin any exalted character in this free country than the having shown favour to a meritorious servant, by promoting him above his rank in society, the rank of his birth. It is a lot which ha happened to many a great man which has been that of those who have become the ornaments of their country. God forbid we should ever see the time, when all ranks, all stations in this community, except the highest, were not open to all men ; and that we should ever reckon it of itself a circumstance even of suspicion in any person for neither sex can be exempt from an inference of such a nature if it is once made general and absolute, that he has promoted an inferior to be his equal ! Let me, however, remind your lord- ship:?, that the rapidity of the promotion of Bergami has been greatly overstated ; and the "manner in which it took place is a convincing proof, that the story of love having been the cause of it, is inconsistent with the fact. * x * * I do not dwell on this, my lords, as of any importance to the case ; for whether I shall think it necessary to prove what I have just stated or not, I consider that I have already disposed of the case in the comments which I .'have made upon the evidence, and in the appeal which I have made to the general principles of criminal justice. But, as the conduct of her Majesty has been so unsparingly scrutinized, and as it is important to show that even im- propriety existed not, where I utterly defy guilt to be proved, I thought it requisite to dwell on this prominent feature in the cause. If the Queen had frequented companies below her station if she had lowered her dignity if she had followed courses which, though not guilty ones, might be deemed improper in themselves and inconsistent with her high station if she had been proved guilty of any such unworthi- ness I could have trodden upon high ground still. But I have no occasion to occupy it. I say, guilt there is none levity there is none unworthiness there is none. But if there had been any of the latter, while I dared her accusers to the proof of guilt, admitting levity and even indecorum, I might still have appealed to that which always supports virtue in jeopardy, the course of her former life at home, among her own relations, before she was frowned upon here while she had protection among you while she had the most powerful of all protection, that of our late venerable monarch. -I hold in my hand a testimonial which cannot be read, and which I am sure will not be weighed, without the deepest sense of its importance; above all, without a feeling of SOITOW, when we reflect upon the reign that has passed, and compare it with the rule we live under. It is a melancholy proof more melancholy, because we no longer have him who furnishes it amongst us but it is a proof how that illustrious sovereign viewed her, whom he knew better than all others whom he loved more than all the rest of her family did even than those upon whose affections she had a greater claim nay, whom he loved better than he did almost any child of his own. The plain- ness, the honesty, the intelligible and manly sense of this letter are such, that I cannot refrain from the gratification of reading it. It was written in 1804 : "WINDSOR CASTLE, Nov. 13, 180-1. "My DEAREST DAUGHTER-IN-LAW AND NIECE. Yesterday, I and the rest of my family had an inter- view with the Prince of Wales at Kew. Care was taken on all sides to avoid all subjects of altercation or explanation, consequently the conversation was neither instructive nor entertaining ; but it leaves the Prince of Wales in a situation to show whether his desire to return to his family is only verbal or real " (a differ- ence which George III. never knew, except in others) "which time alone can show. I am not idle in my endeavours to make inquiries that may enable mo to communicate some plan for the advantage of the dear child you and me with so much reason must interest ourselves in ; and its effecting my having the happiness of living more with you is no small incentive to my forming some ideas on the subject ; but you may depend on their being not decided upon without your thorough and cordial concurrence, for your authority as mother it is my object to support. "Believe me, at all times, my dearest daughter-in- law and niece, your most affectionate father-in- law and uncle, "GEORGE fi." Such, my lords, was the opinion which this good man, not ignorant of human affairs, no ill judge of human character, had formed of this near and cherished relation ; and upon which, in the most delicate particulars, the care THE ORATOR. 29 of his -grand-daughter and the heir of his crown, he honestly, really, and not in mere words, always acted. I might now read to your lordships a letter from his illustrious successor, not written in the same tone of affection hot indicative of the same feelings of regard but by no means indicative of any want of confidence, or at least of any desire harshly to trammel his Royal Consort's conduct. I allude to a letter which has been so often before your lordships in other shapes, that I may not think it necessary to repeat it here. It is a permission to live apart, and a desire never to come together again ; the expression of an opinion that their happiness was better consulted, and pursued asunder ; and a very plain indication, that her Majesty's conduct should at least not be watched with all the scrupulousness, all the rigour, all the scru- tinizing agency, which has resulted in bringing the present Bill of Pains and Penalties before your lordships. [Cries of " Read, read." Mr. Brougham accordingly read the letter, as follows :] "MADAM, As Lord Cholmondely informs me that you wish I would define in writing the terms upon which wo aro to live, I shall endeavour to explain myself upon that head with as much clearness and with as much propriety as the nature of the subject will admit. Our inclinations are not in our power, nor should either of us be held answerable to the other because nature has not made us suitable to each other. Tranquil and comfortable society is, however, in our power ; let our intercourse, therefore, be restricted to that, and I will distinctly subscribe to the condition which you required,* through Lady Cholmondely, that even in the event of any accident happening to my daughter, which I trust Providence in its mercy will avert, I shall not infringe the terms of the restriction, by proposing at any period, a connexion of a more particular nature. I shall now finally close this dis- agreeable correspondence, trusting, that as we have completely explained ourselves to each other, the rest of our lives will be passed in uninterrupted tranquillity. I am, Madam, with great truth, very sincerely yours, " GEOBGE P. "WINDSOR CASTLE, April 30th, 1796." My lords, I do not call this, as it has been termed, a Letter of Licence ; such was the term applied to it, on the former occasion, by those who are now, unhappily for the Queen, no more, those who were the colleagues and the coadjutors of the present ministers, but I think it such an epistle as would make it mat- ter of natural wonderment to the person who received it, that her conduct should ever after and especially the more rigorously the older the parties were growing become the subject of the most unceasing and unscrupulous watch- ing, prying, spying, and investigation. Such then, my lords, is this Case. And again let me call on you, even at the risk of * The Queen to her last hour positively denied ever having required any such condition, or having ever made any allusion to the subject of it. repetition, never to dismiss for a moment from your minds, the two great points upon which I rest my attack upon the 'evidence : first, that the accusers have not proved the facts by the good witnesses who were within their reach, whom they had no shadow of pretext for not calling ; and secondly, that the witnesses whom they have ventured to call are, every one of them, irreparably damaged in their credit. How, I again ask, is a plot ever to be dis- covered, except by the means of these two principles ? Nay, there are instances, in which plots have been discovered, through the medium of the second principle, when the first had happened to fail. When venerable witnesses have been seen brought forward when persons above all suspicion have lent themselves for a season to impure plans when no escape for the guiltless seemed open, no chance of safety to remain they have almost providentially escaped from the snare by the second of those two principles ; by the evidence breaking down where it was not expected to be sifted; by a weak point being found, where no provision, from the attack being unforeseen, had been made to support it. Your lordships recollect that great passage I say great, for it is poetically just and eloquent, even were it not inspired in the Sacred Writings, where the Elders had joined themselves in a plot which had appeared to have succeeded, " for that," as the Book says, " they had hardened their hearts, and had turned away their eyes, that they might not look at Heaven, and that they might do the purposes of unjust judgments." But they, though giving a clear, consistent, uncon- tradicted story, were disappointed, and their victim was rescued from their gripe, by the trifling circumstance of a contradiction about a tamarisk tree. Let not man call those contra dictions of those falsehoods which false wit- nesses swear to from needless and heedless falsehood, such as Sacchi about his changing his name or such as Demont about her letters such as Majoochi about the banker's clerk or such as all the other contradictions and falsehoods not going to the main body of the case, but to the main body of the credit of the witnesses let not men rashly and blindly call these things accidents. They are just rather than merciful dispensations of th#tt Providence, which wills not that the guilty should triumph, and which favourably protects the innocent ! Such, my lords, is the Case now before you ! Such is the evidence in support of this measure -' evidence inadequate to prove a debt impo- tent to deprive of a civil right ridiculous to sf convict of the lowest offence scandalous if ' brought forward to support a charge of the"BV' highest nature which the law knows monstrous to ruin the honour, to blast the name of an . English Queen ! What shall I say, then, if 30 THE OEATOE. this is the proof by which an act of judicial legislation, a parliamentary sentence, an ex ft ? post facto law, is sought to be passed against this defenceless woman ? My lords, I pray you to pause. I do earnestly beseech you to take heed ! You are standing upon the brink of a precipice then beware ! It will go forth your judgment, if sentence shall go against the Queen. But it will be the only judgment you ever pronounced, which, instead of reaching its object, will return and bound back upon those *who give it. Save the country, my lords, from the horrors of this catastrophe save yourselves from, this peril rescue that country, of which you are the ornaments, but in which you can flourish no longer, when severed from the people, than the blossom when cut off from the roots and the stem of the treeJ^Save that country, that you may continue'TO adorn it save the Crown, which is in jeopardy the Aristocracy, which is shaken save the Altar, which must stagger with the blow that rends its kindred Throne I/i^Tou have said, my lords, you have willed the Church and the Bang have willed that the Queen should be deprived of its solemn service. She has, instead of that solemnity, the heartfelt prayers of the people. She wants no prayers of mine. But I do here pour forth my humble supplications at the Throne of Mercy, that that mercy may be poured down upon the people, in a larger measure than the merits of their rulers may deserve, and that your hearts may be turned to justice ! , THOMAS CAELYLE. Born 1795. THE CONQUEROR. TKULY it is a mortifying thing for your conqueror to reflect how perishable is the metal which he hammers with such violence ; how the kind earth will soon shroud up his bloody foot-prints ; and all that he achieved and skilfully piled together will be like his own canvass city of a camp, this evening loud with life to-morrow all struck and vanished, a few earth-pits and heaps of straw ! for here it always continues true that the deepest force is the still- est; that as in the fable, the mild shining of the sun shall silently accomplish what the fierce blustering of the tempest had in vain essayed. Above all, it is ever to be kept in mind that not by material, but by moral power, are men and their actions governed. How noiseless is thought ! No rolling of drums, no tramp of squadrons, or immeasurable tumult of baggage waggons, attends its movements. In what ob- scure and sequestered place may the head be meditating, which is one day to be crowned with more than imperial authority ; for kings and emperors will be amongst its ministering ser- vants ; it will rule not over, but in, all heads, and with these its solitary combinations of ideas, as with magic formulas, bend the world to its will. The time may come when Napoleon him- self will be better known for his laws than for his battles ; and the victory of "Waterloo prove less momentous than the opening of the first mechanics' institute. WILBEEFOECE. Born 1759. Died 1833. [It is well known, almost too well known, perhaps, to make it necessary to mention it here, that to Mr. Wil- berforce is due the everlasting honour of having intro- duced the subject of the abolition of the Slave Trade into Parliament ; and that it was principally owing to his unwearying zeal and persevering industry in the cause, that this country was freed from as great a national crime as it is possible to conceive. It is not perhaps as well known it is hardly possible to realize now what great obstacles he had to sur- mount, and how great was the industry and zeal required before his endeavours were crowned with success, and it would bo too long to detail them here. Early in 1787 he announced his intention of bringing forward a motion relative to the Slave Trade, but was prevented from ill-health till 1789, when the House refused to come to a decision upon the propositions he submitted. No further notice was taken of the subject till the year 1791, when Mr. Wilberforce's motion for the Abolition was lost by a majority of seventy-five votes. Fox, Pitt, and Burke were, however, in the minority ; and in the succeeding session their eloquence and zeal were exerted with powerful effect, and the proposition was adopted, "That it shall not be lawful to import any African negroes into any British Colonies, in ships owned or navigated by British subjects, at any time after the 1st day of January, 1796." Nevertheless, the absolute prohibition of the trade did not take place till 1807, or twenty years after Mr. Wilberforce made bis first notice of a motion on the subject. The speech from which the following extract is taken was delivered on the 2nd April, 1792.] HORRORS or THE MIDDLE PASSAGE. I THINK, sir, I have already laid enough to the charge of this detested traffic; yet, believe me, if I were so disposed, I could add much more of a similar nature ; but I will pass it over, just only sxiggesting one new topic on which I might enlarge, that, I mean, of our staining the commercial honour of Great Britain, by descending to every petty fraud in our deal- ings with the natives. But, not to take up any more of your time on this part of the subject, I must pass on to another, which originally struck my mind as being more horrid than all the rest, and which, I think, still retains its superiority ; I mean the situation of the slaves on board ship, or what is commonly called the middle passage. I will spare the committee, however, the detail of all those perfections in cruelty which it exhibits : THE OEATOE. 31 but two or three instances I must mention, because they are of a recent date, and still more because they will tend to convince those who are inclined rather to regulate than abolish the slave trade, that so long as it is suffered to exist, the evils of the middle passage must exist also, though in respect of them, more than any other class, regulation might have been deemed effectual. We were told, I remember, in an early stage of our inquiry, that formerly, indeed, the negroes were but ill accommodated during their conveyance, and, perhaps, there was now and then a considerable mortality ; but such had been the improvements of late years, that they were now quite comfortable and happy. Yet it was no longer ago than in the year 1788, that Mr. Isaac Wilson, whose intelligent and candid manner of giving his evidence could not but impress the committee with a high opinion of him, was doomed to witness scenes as deeply distressing as almost ever occurred in the annals of the slave trade. I will not condemn the committee to listen to the particulars of his dreadful tale, but for the present will content myself with pointing your attention to the mortality. His ship was a vessel of 370 tons, and she had on board 602 slaves, a number greater than we at present allow, but rather less, I think, than what was asserted by the slave merchants to be necessary in order to carry on their trade to any tolerable profit. Out of these 602 she lost 155. I will mention the mortality also of three or four more vessels which were in company with her, and belonged to the same owner. One of them bought 450, and buried 200 ; another bought 466, and buried 73 ; another bought 546, and buried 158 ; besides 155 from his own ship, his number being 602 ; and from the whole four after the landing of their cargoes there died 220. He fell in with another vessel which lost 362 ; the number she had bought was not specified. To these actual deaths during and immediately after the voyage, add the subsequent loss in what is called ihe seasoning, and consider that this loss would be greater than ordinary in cargoes landed in so sickly a state. Why, sir, were such a mortality general, it would, in a few months, depopulate the earth. We asked the surgeon the causes of these excessive losses, particularly on board his own ship, where he had it in his power to ascertain them. The substance of his reply was, that most of the slaves appeared to labour under a fixed dejection and melancholy, interrupted now and then by lamentations and plaintive songs, expressive of their concern for the loss of their relations and friends, and native country. So powerfully did this operate, that many attempted various ways of destroying themselves ; some endea- voured to drown themselves, and three actually effected it ; others obstinately refused to take sustenance, and when the whip and other violent means were used to compel them to eat, they looked up in the face of the officer who unwillingly executed this painful task, and said in their own language, " presently we shall be no more." Their state of mind produced a general languor and debility, which were in- creased, in many instances, by an unconquer- able abstinence from food, arising partly from sickness, partly, to use the language of slave captains, from " sulkiness." These causes naturally produced the dysentery ; the con- tagion spread, numbers were daily carried off, and the disorder, aided by so many powerful auxiliaries, resisted all the force of medicine. And it is worth while to remark, that these grievous sufferings appear to have been in no degree owing either to want of care on the part of the owner, or to any negligence or harshness of the captain. When Mr. Wilson was ques- tioned if the ship was well fitted ; as well, says he, as most vessels are, and the crew and slaves as well treated as in most ships ; and- he after- wards speaks of his captain in still stronger terms, as being a man of tenderness and humanity. The ship in which Mr. Claxton, the surgeon, sailed, since the regulating Act, afforded a repe- tition of all the same horrid circumstances I have before alluded to. Suicide, in various ways, was attempted and effected, and the same barbarous expedients were resorted to, in order to compel them to continue an existence- too painful to be endured : the mortality also was as great. And yet, here also, it appears to have been in no degree the fault of the captain, who is represented as having felt for the slaves in their wretched situation. If such were the state of things under captains who had still the feelings of their nature, what must it be under those of a contrary description ? It would be a curious speculation to consider what would be the conduct towards his cargo of such a man as one of the six I la.tely spoke of.* It would be curious to trace such a one, in idea, through all the opportunities the middle passage would afford him of displaying the predominant features of his character. Unhappily, sir, it is not left for us here to form our own conjectures ! Of the conduct of one of them at least, I have heard incidents which surpass all my imagination could have conceived. One of them I would relate, if it were not almost too shocking for description; and yet I feel it my duty, in the situation in which I stand, not to suffer myself to pay too much attention to what has been well called squeam- * Captain Phillips, of the Thomas; Capt. Hutchinson, of the Wasp ; and Capt. Kimber, of the Rtcornrii, all of Bristol : Capt. Houston, of the Martha ; Capt. Doyle, of the Jittsei/ ; and Capt. Lee, of the Amaehree, fill of Liverpool. THE OBATOR. ishness on the part of the committee. If it be too bad for me to recite, or for you to hear, it was not thought too bad for one of those unhappy creatures to suffer, of whom I have this night the honour to be the advocate. There was a poor girl on board, about fifteen years of age, who had unfoi-tunately contracted a disorder, which produced effects that rendered her a peculiar object of commiseration. In this situation, being quite naked, she bent down in a stooping posture, wishing out of modesty to conceal her infirmity : the captain ordered her to walk upright, and when she could not, or would not obey, he hoisted her up, naked as she was, by the wrists, with her feet a little distance from the deck ; and whilst she there hung, a spectacle to the whole crew, he flogged her with a whip with his own hands. He then hung her up in a similar way by both legs, and lastly by one leg; till at length having thus exhausted the efforts of his savage invention, he released her from her torments. The poor unhappy young woman never again recovered. What with the pain, and what with the shame she suffered, she fell into convulsions, and died within three days. The person who related this fact to me is a professional man, who is ready to declare it upon his oath. He has related to me other acts of barbarity, nearly as atrocious ; and you will be little surprised to hear that the cruelties of this wretch were not confined to slaves alone, but that the sailors came in for their share.* Think only that these things passed but a few months ago, and here too, as I have before had occasion to remark, you will observe that this was at the very moment of our inquiry and discussion ; and yet, even then they could not, though but for a short interval, suspend their work of cruelty, but pursued it more daringly and desperately than ever. And so will it ever be whilst you employ such agents as the slave trade either finds or makes : you will in vain endeavour to prevent the effects of those ferocious dispositions which this savage traffic too commonly creates ; till your regu- lations can counteract the force of habit, and change the nature of the human mind, they will here be of no avail. Nor, as you must have already collected, can they have all that effect which has sometimes been supposed even in preventing the mortality. I do not, indeed, deny that the Eegulating act has lessened this mortality, but not in the degree in which it is generally imagined ; and even in the last year I know the deaths on shipboard will be found to have been between ten and eleven per cent, on the whole number * Mr. Wilberforce being called upon for the name of the captain, eaid " Captain Kimber is the man who performed these feats." that was exported. In truth, you cannot reach the cause of this mortality by all your regulations. Until you can cure a broken heart, until you can legislate for the affec- tions, and bind by your statutes the passions and feelings of the mind, you will in vain sit here devising rules and orders : your labour will be nugatory : you cannot make these poor creatures live against their will : in spite of all you can do they will elude your regulations ; they will mock your ordinances and triumph, as they have already done, in escaping out of your hands. 0, sir, are not these things too bad to be any longer endured ? I cannot but persuade myself that whatever difference of opinion there may have been, we shall this night be at length unanimous. I cannot believe that a British House of Commons will give its sanction to the continuance of this infernal traffic. We were for awhile ignorant of its real nature ; but it has now been completely developed, and laid open to your view in all its horrors. Never was there, indeed, a system so big with wickedness and cruelty : to whatever part of it you direct your view, whether to Africa, the middle passage, or the West Indies, the eye finds no comfort, no satisfaction, no relief. It is the gracious ordinance of Providence, both in the natural and moral world, that good should often arise out of evil. Hurricanes clear the air, and the propagation of truth is pro- moted by persecution : pride, vanity, profusion, in their remoter consequences contribute often to the happiness of mankind ; in common what is in itself evil and vicious, is permitted to carry along with it some circumstances of palliation ; even those descriptions of men that may seem most noxious have often some virtues belonging to their order. The Arab is hospitable. The robber is brave. We do not necessarily find cruelty associated with fraud, or meanness with injustice. But here the case is far otherwise. It is the prerogative of this detested traffic to separate from evil its concomitant good, and reconcile discordant mischiefs ; it robs war of its generosity ; it deprives peace of its security. You have the vices of polished society without its knowledge or its comforts ; and the evils of barbarism without its simplicity. Nor are its ravages restricted, as those of other evils, to certain limits either of extent or continuance ; in the latter it is constant and unintermitted ; in the former it is universal and indiscriminate. No age, no sex, no rank, no condition is exempt from the fatal influence of this wide wasting calamity ! Thus, it attains to the fullest measure of pure, unmixed, unsophisticated wickedness ; and scorning all competition or comparison, it stands without a rival in the secure, undisputed possession of its detestable pre-eminence. THE ORATOE. HENRY GRATTAN. Born 1750. Died 1820. [The following 1 noble estimate of the great Lord Chatham is a fine specimen of the splendid style and philosophical insight of Grattan .] CHARACTER OF THE FIRST EARL OF CHATHAM. rpHE secretary stood alone; modern degene- JL racy had not readied him. Original and unaccommodating, the features of his character had the hardihood of antiquity ; his august mind over-awed majesty ; and one of his sovereigns thought royalty so impaired in his presence, that he conspired to remove him, in order to be re- lieved from his superiority. No state chicanery, no narrow system of vicious politics, no idle contest for ministerial victories, sunk him to the vulgar level of the great ; but, overbearing, persuasive, and impracticable, his subject was England, his ambition was fame. Without di- viding, he destroyed party ; without corrupting, he made a venal age unanimous. France sunk beneath him. With one hand he smote the house of Bourbon, and wielded in the other the democracy of England. The sight of his mind was infinite ; and his schemes were to affect, not England, not the present age only, but Europe and posterity. Wonderful were the means by which these schemes were accom- plished ; always seasonable ; always adequate ; the suggestions of an understanding animated by ardour and enlightened by prophecy. The ordinary feelings, which make life amiable and indolent, those sensations which soften, and allure, and vulgarize, were unknown to him. No domestic difficulties, no domestic weakness, reached him ; but, aloof from the sordid occurrences of life, and unsullied by its intercourse, he came occasionally into our system, to counsel and to decide. A character, so exalted, so strenuous, so various, so authoritative, astonished a corrupt age, and the Treasury trembled at the name of PITT, through all her classes of venality. Cor- ruption imagined, indeed, that she had found defects in this statesman, and talked much of the inconsistency of his glory, and much of the ruin of his victories ; but the history of his country, and the calamities of the enemy, an- swered and refuted her. Nor were his political abilities his only talents : his eloquence was an era in the senate, peculiar and spontaneous ; familiarly expressing gigantic sentiments and instinctive wisdom : not like the torrent of Demosthenes, or the splendid confla- gration of Tally, it resembled sometimes the thunder, and sometimes the music, of the spheres. Like Murray, he did not conduct the under- standing through the painful subtlety of argu- mentation ; nor was he, like Townshend, for ever on the rack of exertion ; but rather lightened upon the subject, and reached the point by the flashings of his mind ; which, like those of his eye, were felt, but could not be followed. Upon the whole, there was, in this man, something that could create, subvert, or reform ; an understanding, a spirit, and an eloquence, to summon mankind to society, or to break the bonds of slavery asunder, and to rule the wilder- ness of free minds with unbounded authority ; something that could establish or overwhelm empire, and strike a blow in the world that should resound through its universe. CHARLES JAMES FOX. Born 1749. Died 1806. [SPEECH in eulogium of the Duke of Bedford, sur- named the Great, on the occasion of moving for a writ for a new election for the borough of Tavistock, vacated by the elevation of his successor at the Duke's death in March, 1802. The Duke of Bedford, whose memory is so eloquently preserved in the following speech, was the grandson of the duke who was minister to the Court of France in 1762, and signed the preliminaries of peace with France and Spain at Fontaineblcau ; was the great- uncle of the present duke, and the uncle of Lord John, now Earl Russell. His early death was viewed at the time as a national calamity, on account of his high senatorial influence, the purity of his character, and the great services which he rendered to the promotion of agriculture.] EULOGY OF THE DUKE OF BEDFORD. MR. CHAIRMAN, If the sad event which has recently occurred were only a private misfortune, however heavy, I should feel the impropriety of obtruding upon the House the feelings of private friendship, and would have sought some other opportunity of expressing those sentiments of gratitude and affection which must be ever due from me to the memory of the excellent person whose loss gives occasion to the sort of motion of course which I am about to make to the House. It is because I consider the death of the Duke of Bedford as a great public calamity because the public itself seems so to consider it ; because, not in this town only, but in every part of the kingdom, the impression made by it seems to be the strongest and most universal that ever appeared upon the loss of a subject ; it is for these reasons that I presume to hope for the indulgence of the House, if I deviate in some degree from the common course, and introduce my motion in a manner which I must confess to be unusual on similar occasions. At the same time, I trust, sir, that I shall not be suspected of any intention to abuse the indulgence which I ask, by dwelling, with the fondness of friendship, upon the various excellences of the character to which I have alluded, much less by entering into a history of the several events of his life, which might serve to illustrate it. There was something in that character so peculiar and striking, and the just 34 THE ORATOR. admiration which his virtues commanded was such, that to expatiate upon them in any detail is unnecessary, as upon this occasion it would be improper. That he has been much lamented and generally, cannot be wondered at, for surely there never was a more just occasion of piiblic sorrow. To lose such a man ! at such a time ! so unexpectedly ! The particular stage of his life too in which we lost him, must add to every feeling of regret, and make the disappointment more severe and poignant to all thinking minds. Had he fallen at an earlier period, the public to whom he could then, comparatively speaking at least, be but little known, would rather have compassionated and condoled with the feelings of his friends and relations, than have been themselves very severely afflicted by the loss. It would have been suggested, and even we who were the most partial must have admitted, that the expectations raised by the dawn are not always realized in the meridian of life. If the fatal event had been postponed, the calamity might have been alleviated by the consideration that mankind could not have looked for any length of time to the exercise of his virtues and talents. But he was snatched away at a mo- ment when society might have reasonably hoped, that after having accomplished all the good of which it was capable, he would have descended not immaturely into the tomb. He had, on the one hand, lived long enough to have his cha- racter fully confirmed and established, while on the other, what remained of life seemed, accord- ing to all human expectations, to afford ample space and scope for the exercise of the virtues of which that character was composed. The tree was old enough to enable us to ascertain the quality of the fruit which it would bear, and, at the same time, young enough to promise many years of produce. The high rank and splendid fortune of the great man of whom I am speaking, though not circumstances which in themselves either can or ought to conciliate the regard and esteem of rational minds, are yet so far considerable, as an elevated situation, by making him who is placed in it more powerful and conspicuous, causes his virtues or vices to be more useful or injurious to society. In this . case the rank and wealth of the person are to be attended to in another and a very different point of view. To appreciate his merits justly, we must consider, not only the advantages, but the disadvantages, connected with such circum- stances. The dangers attending prosperity in general, and high situation in particular, the corrupt influence of flattery, to which men in such situations are more peculiarly exposed, have been the theme of moralists in all ages and in all nations : but how are these dangers increased with respect to him who succeeds in his child- hood to the first rank and fortune in a kingdom such as this, and who having lost his parents, is never approached by any being who is not re- presented to him as in some degree his inferior ! Unless blessed with a heart uncommonly sus- ceptible and disposed to virtue, how should he who has scarcely ever seen an equal, have a com- mon feeling, and a just sympathy, for the rest of mankind, who seemed to have been formed rather for him, and as instruments of his gratification, than together with him for the general purposes of nature ? Justly has the Roman satirist remarked, "Rams enim ferme sensus communis in 1113, Fortun& " This was precisely the case of the Duke of Bedford ; nor do I know that his education was perfectly exempt from defects usually belonging to such situations ; but virtue found her own way, and on the very side where the danger was tin- greatest was her triumph most complete. From the blame of selfishness no man was ever so eminently free. No man put his own gratifica- tion so low, that of others so high in his estima- tion. To contribute to the welfare of his fellow citizens was the constant, unremitted pursuit of his life, by his example and his beneficence to render better, wiser, and happier. He truly loved the public, but not only the public, according to the usiial acceptance of the word ; not merely the body corporate, if I may so express myself, which bears that name, but man in his indi- vidual capacity ; all who came within his notice and deserved his protection, were objects of his generous concern. From his station the sphere of his acquaintance was larger than that of most other men ; yet in his extended circle, few, very- few, could be counted to whom he had not found some occasion to be serviceable. To be useful, whether to the public at large, whether to his relations and nearer friends, or even to an indi- vidual of his species, was the ruling passion of his life. He died, it is true, in a state of celibacy ; but if they may be called a man's children whose concerns are as dear to him as his own ; to protect whom from evil is the daily object of his care ; to promote whose welfare he exerts every faculty of which he is possessed : if such, I say, are to be esteemed our children, no man had ever a more numerous family than the Duke of Bedford. Private friendships are not, I own, a fit topic for this House, or any public assembly ; but it is difficult for any one who had the honour and happiness to be his friend, not to advert, when speaking of such a man, to his conduct and behaviour in that interesting character. In his friendship, not only he was disinterested and sincere, but in him were to be found all the characteristic excellences which have ever dis- tinguished the men most renowned for that most amiable of all virtues. Some are warm, but volatile and inconstant ; he was warm too, THE ORATOR. 35 but steady and unchangeable. Never once was he known to violate any of the duties of that sacred relation. Where his attachment was placed, there it remained, or rather there it grew : for it may be more truly said of this man, than of any other that ever existed, that if he loved you at the beginning of the year, and you did nothing to forfeit his esteem, he would love you still more at the end of it. Such was the uniformly progressive state of his affections, no less than of his virtue and wisdom. It has happened to many, and he was cer- tainly one of the number, to grow wiser as they advanced in years. Some have even improved in virtue; but it has generally been in that class of virtu^ only which consists in resisting the allurements of vice, and too often have these advantages been counterbalanced by the loss, or at least the diminution, of that openness of heart, that warmth of feeling, that readiness of sympathy, that generosity of spirit, which have been reckoned among the characteristic attri- butes of youth. In this case it was far other- wise. Endued by nature with an unexampled firmness of character, he could bring his mind to a more complete state of discipline than any man I ever knew ; but he had, at the same time, such a comprehensive and just view of all the moral questions, that he well knew to dis- tinguish between those inclinations, which, if indulged, must be pernicious, and the feelings, which, if cultivated, might prove beneficial to mankind. All bad propensities, therefore, if any such he had, he completely conquered and suppressed, while, on the other hand, no man ever studied the trade by which he was to get his bread the profession by which he hoped to rise in wealth and honour nor even the higher arts of poetry or eloquence, in pursuit of a fancied immortality, with more zeal and ardour than this excellent person cultivated the noble art of doing good to his fellow creatures. In this pursuit, above all others, diligence is sure of success, and accordingly it would be difficult to find an example of any other man to whom so many individuals are indebted for happiness or comfort, or to whom the public at large owe more essential obliga- tion. So far was he from slackening or growing cold in these generous pursuits, that the only danger was, lest, notwithstanding his admirable good sense and that remarkable soberness of character which distinguished him, his munifi- cence might, if he had lived, have engaged him in expenses to which even his princely fortune would have been found inadequate. Thus the only circumstance like a failing in this great character was, that while indulging his darling passion for making himself useful to others, he might be too regardless of future consequences to himself and family. The love of utility was indeed his ruling passion. Even in his recrea- tions (and he was by no means naturally averse to such as were suitable to his station of life), no less than in his graver hours, he so much loved to keep this grand object in view, that he seemed by degrees to grow weaiy of every amusement which was not in some degree connected with it. Agriculture he judged rightly to be the most useful of all sciences, and more particularly in the present state of affairs, he conceived it to be the department in which his services to his country might be most beneficial. To agricul- ture, therefore, he principally applied himself, nor can it be doubted but with his capacity, activity, and energy, he must have attained his object, and made himself eminently useful in that most important branch of political economy. Of the particular degree of his merit in this respect, how much the public is already indebted to him, how much benefit it may still expect to derive from the effects of his unwearied dili- gence and splendid example, is a question upon which many members of this House can form a much more accurate judgment than I can pre- tend to do. But of his motives to these exer- tions I am competent to judge, and can affirm without a doubt, that it was the same which actuated him throughout an ardent desire to employ his faculties in the way, whatever it might be, in which he could most contribute to the good of his country, and the general interest of mankind. With regard to his politics, I feel a great unwillingness to be wholly silent on the subject, and at the same time much difficulty in treat- ing it with propriety, when I consider to whom I am addressing myself. I am sensible that those principles upon which in any other place I should not hesitate to pronounce an unqualified eulogium, may be thought by some, perhaps by the majority of this House, rather to stand in need of apology and exculpation, than to form a proper subject for panegyric. But even in this view I may be allowed to offer a few words in favour of my departed friend. I believe few, if any of us, are so infatuated with the extreme notions of philosophy as not to feel a partial veneration for the principles, some leaning even to the prejudices of the ancestors, especially if they were of any note, from whom we are respectively descended. Such biases are always, as I suspect, favourable to the cause of patriotism and public virtue ; I am sure, at least, that in Athens and Rome they were so considered. No man had ever less of family pride, in the bad sense, than the Duke of Bedford ; but he had a great and just respect for his ancestors. Now if, upon the principle to which I have alluded, it wns in Rome thought excusable in one of the Claudii to have, in conformity with the general manners of their race, something too much of an aribtocratical pride and haughtiness, surely 36 THE ORATOR. in this country it is not unpardonable in a Russell to be zealously attached to the rights of the subject, and peculiarly tenacious of the popular parts of our constitution. It is excus- able, at least, in one who numbers among his ancestors the great Earl of Bedford, the patron of Pym and the friend of Hampden, to be an enthusiastic lover of liberty : nor is it to be wondered at if a descendant of Lord Russell should feel more than common horror for arbi- trary power, and a quick, perhaps even a jealous discernment of any approach or tendency in the system of government to that dreaded evil. But whatever may be our differences in regard to principles, I trust there is no member of this House who is npt liberal enough to do justice to upright conduct even in a political adversary. Whatever, therefore, may be thought of those principles to which I have alluded, the political conduct of my much lamented friend must be allowed by all to have been manly, consistent, and sincere. It now remains for me to touch upon the last melancholy scene in which this excellent man was to be exhibited, and to all those who admire his character, let it be some consolation that his exit was in every respect conformable to his past j life. I have already noticed that prosperity | could not corrupt him. He had now to undergo j a trial of an obstinate nature. But in every j instance he was alike true to his character, and in moments of extreme bodily pain and ap- proaching dissolution, when it might be expected that a man's very feeling would be concentrated in his personal sufferings his very thoughts occupied by the awful event impending even in these moments he put by all selfish considera- tions ; kindness to his friends was the sentiment still uppermost in his mind, and he employed himself, to the last hour of his life, in making the most considerate arrangements for the hap- piness and comfort of those who were to survive him. While in the enjoyment of prosperity he had learned and practised all those milder virtues which adversity alone is supposed capable of teaching ; and in the hour of pain and approach- ing death, he had that calmness and serenity which are thought to belong exclusively to health of body and a mind at ease. If I have taken an unusual, aud possibly an irregular course, upon this extraordinary occa- sion, I am confident the House will pardon me. They will forgive something, no doubt, to the warmth of private friendship, to sentiments of gratitude which I must feel, and, whenever I have an opportunity, must express, to the latest hour of my life. But the consideration of the public utility, to which I have so much adverted as the ruling principle in the mind of my friend, will weigh far more with them. They will in their wisdom acknowledge, that to celebrate and to perpetuate the memory of great and merito- rious individuals, is in effect an essential service to the community. It was not, therefore, for the purpose of performing the pious office of friend- ship by fondly strewing flowers upon his tomb, that I have drawn your attention to the cha- racter of the Duke of Bedford. The motive that actuates me, is one more suitable to what were his views. It is that this great character may be strongly impressed upon the minds of all who hear me ; that they may see it ; that they may feel it ; that they may discourse of it in their domestic circles ; that they may speak of it to their children, and hold it up to the imitation of posterity. If he could now be sensible to what passes here below, I am sure that nothing could give him so much satisfaction as to find that we are endeavouring to make his memory and example, as he took care his life should be, useful to mankind. I will conclude with applying to the present occasion a beautiful passage from the speech of a very young orator.* It may be thought perhaps to savour too much of the sanguine views of youth to stand the test of a rigid phi- losophical inquiry ; but it is at least cheering and consolatory, and that in this instance it may be exemplified, is, I am confident, the sincere wish of every man who hears me : " Crime," says he, " is a curse only to the period in which it is successful ; but virtue, whether fortunate or otherwise, blesses not only its own age, but the remotest posterity, and is as beneficial by its example as by its immediate effect." DANIEL WEBSTER, Born 1782. Died 1852. [THE following extract is from a speech by Webster, one of the greatest American orators, in memory of the greatest of American statesmen ; and was deli- vered on the 22nd Feb., 1832, being the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Washington. The speech is well worthy both of its author and its theme.] CEXTEXAHY CELEBII.VTION OF WASHINGTON. I RISE, gentlemen, to propose to you the name of that great man, in commemoration of whose birth, and in honour of whose character and services, we have here assembled. I am sure that I express a sentiment common to every one present when I say, that there is something more than ordinarily solemn and affecting on this occasion. We are met to testify our regard for him, whose name is intimately blended with whatever belongs most essentially to the prosperity, the liberty, the free institutions, and the renown of our country. That name was of power to rally a nation, in the hour of thick -thronging public disasters and calamities ; that name shone, amid The Hon. William Lamb. THE OKATOE. 37 the storm of war, a beacon light, to cheer and guide the country's friends ; its flame, too, like a meteor, to repel her foes. That name, in the days of peace, was a loadstone, attracting to itself a whole people's confidence, a whole people's love, and the whole world's respect ; that name, descending with all time, spread over the whole earth, and uttered in all the languages belonging to the tribes and races of men, will for ever be pronounced with affectionate gratitude by every one in whose breast there shall arise an aspiration for human rights and human liberty. We perform this grateful duty, gentlemen, at the expiration of a hundred years from his birth, near the place so cherished and beloved by him, where his dust now reposes, and in the capital which bears his own immortal name. All experience evinces, that human senti- ments are strongly affected by associations. The recurrence of anniversaries, or of longer periods of time, naturally freshens the recollec- tion, and deepens the impression of events with which they are historically connected. Ke- nowned places, also, have a power to awaken feeling, which all acknowledge. No American can pass by the fields of Bunker Hill, Monmouth, or Camdeu, as if they were ordinary spots on the earth's surface. Whoever visits them feels the sentiment of love of country kindling anew, as if the spirit that belonged to the transactions which have rendered these places distinguished still hovered round with power to move and excite all who in future time may approach them. But neither of these sources of emotion equals the power with which great moral examples affect the mind. When sublime virtues cease to be abstractions, when they become embodied in human character, and exemplified in human conduct, we should be false to our own nature, if we did not indulge in the spontaneous effusions of our gratitude and our admiration. A true lover of the virtue of patriotism delights to contemplate its purest models ; and that love of country may be well suspected which affects to soar so high into the regions of sentiment as to be lost and absorbed in the abstract feeling, and becomes too elevated, or too refined, to glow either with power in the commendation or the love of individual benefactors. All this is im- material. It is as if one should be so enthu- siastic a lover of poetry as to care nothing for Homer or Milton ; so passionately attached to eloquence as to be indifferent to Tally and Chatham ; or such a devotee to the arts, in such an ecstasy with the elements of beauty, propor- tion, and expression, as to regard the master- pieces of Raphael and Michael Angelo with coldness or contempt. We may be assured, gentlemen, that he who really loves the thing itself, loves its finest exhibitions. A true friend of his country loves her friends and benefactors, and thinks it no degradation to commend and commemorate them. The voluntary out-pouring of public feeling made to-day, from the north to the south, and from the east to the west, proves this sentiment to be both just and natural. In the cities and in the villages, in the public temples and in the family circles, among all ages and sexes, gladdened voices to-day bespeak grateful hearts, and a freshened recollection of the virtues of the father of his country. And it will be so, in all time to come, so long as public virtue is itself an object of regard. The ingenuous youth of America will hold up to themselves the bright model of Washington's example, and study to be what they behold ; they will contemplate his character till all its virtues spread out and display themselves to their delighted vision, as the earliest astrono- mers, the shepherds on the plains of Babylon, gazed at the stars till they saw them form into clusters and constellations, overpowering at length the eyes of the beholders with the united blaze of a thousand lights. Gentlemen, we are at the point of a century from the birth of Washington ; and what a centuiy it has been ! During its course the human mind has seemed to proceed with a sort of geometric velocity, accomplishing more than had been done in fives or tens of centuries preceding. Washington stands at the com- mencement of a new era, as well as at the head of the new world. A century from the birth of Washington has changed the world. The country of Washington has been the theatre on which a great part of that change has been wrought ; and Washington himself a principal agent by which it has been accomplished. His age and his country are equally full of wonders, and of both he is the chief. If the prediction of the poet, uttered a few years before his birth, be true ; if indeed it be designed by Providence that the proudest exhi- bition of human character and human affairs shall be made on this theatre of the western world ; if it be true that '' The first four acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; Time's noblest offspring is the last ;" how could this imposing, swelling, final scene be appropriately opened ; how could its intense interest be adequately sustained, but by the introduction of just such a character as our Washington ? Washington had attained his manhood when that spark of liberty was struck out in his own country, which has since kindled into a flame, and shot its beams over the earth. In the flow of a century from his birth, the world has changed in science, in arts, in the extent of commerce, in the improvement of navigation, and in all that relates to the civilization of man. But it is the spirit of human freedom, the new elevation of individual man, in his moral, social, 38 THE ORATOR. and political character, leading the whole long train of other improvements, which has most remarkably distinguished the era. Society, in this century, has not made its progress, like Chinese skill, by a greater acuteness of ingenuity in trifles ; it has not merely lashed itself to an increased speed round the old circles of thought and action, but it has assumed a new character, it has raised itself from beneath governments, to a participation in governments; it has mixed moral and political objects with the daily pursuits of individual men, and, with a freedom and strength before altogether unknown, it has ap- plied to these objects the whole power of the human understanding. It has been the era, in short, when the social principle has triumphed over the feudal principle ; when society has maintained its rights against military power, and established, on foundations never hereafter to be shaken, its competency to govern itself. LOUIS KOSSUTH. Born 1802. Living. [The following is one of the splendid series of speeches made by the great Hungarian reformer during his tour of agitation in America in 1851-2, after his liberation from imprisonment at Kutahia, in Asia Minor.] SPEECH TO THE LADIES OF NEW YOKE ON DEC. 21, 1851. T ADIES, worn out as I am, still I am very Jj glad that the ladies of New York con- descend to listen to my farewell. When, in the midst of a busy day, the watchful care of a guardian angel throws some flowers of joy in the thorny way of man, he gathers them up with thanks : a cheerful thrill quivers through his heart, like the melody of an Molitm harp ; but the earnest duties of life soon claim his atten- tion and his cares. The melodious thrill dies away, and on he must go ; on he goes, joyless, cheerless, and cold, every fibre of his heart bent to the earnest duties of the day. But when the hard work of the day is done, and the stress of mind for a moment subsides, then the heart again claims its right, and the tender fingers of our memory gather up again the violets of joy which the guardian angel threw in our way, and we look at them with delight ; while we cherish them as the favourite gifts of life we are as glad as the child on Christmas eve. These are the happiest moments of man's life. But when we are not noisy, not eloquent, we are silent, almost mute, like nature in a mid- summer's night, reposing from the burning heat of the day. Ladies, that is my condition now. It is a hard day's work which I have had to do here. I am delivering my farewell address ; and every compassionate smile, every warm grasp of the hand, every token of kind- ness which I have received (and I have received so many), every flower of consolation which the ladies of New York have thrown on my thorny way rushes with double force to my memory. I feel happy in this memory there is a solemn tranquillity about my mind ; but in such a moment I would rather be silent than speak. You know, ladies, that it is not the deepest feelings which are the loudest. And besides, I have to say farewell to New York ! This is a sorrowful word. What im- mense hopes are linked in my memory with its name ! hopes of resurrection for my fatherland hopes of liberation for the European conti- nent ! Will the expectations which the mighty outburst, of New York's heart foreshadowed, be realized ? or will the ray of consolation pass away like an electric flash ? Oh, could I cast one single glance into the book of futurity ! No, God forgive me this impious wish. It is He who hid the future from man, and what He does is well done. It were not good for man to know his destiny. The sense of duty would falter or be unstrung if we were assured of the failure or success of our aims. It is because we do not know the future, that we retain our energy of duty. So on will I go in my work, with the full energy of my humble abilities, without despair, but with hope. It is Eastern blood which runs in my veins. If I have somewhat of Eastern fatalism, it is the fatalism of a Christian who trusts with unwavering faith in the boundless goodness of a Divine Providence. But among all these different feelings and thoughts that come upon me in the hour of my farewell, one thing is almost indispensable to me, and that is, the assurance that the sympathy I have met with here will not pass away like the cheers which a warbling girl receives on the stage that it will be preserved as a principle, and that when the emotion subsides, the calmness of reflection will but strengthen it. This consolation I wanted, and this consolation I have, because, ladies, I place it in your hands. I bestow on your motherly and sisterly cares the hopes of Europe's oppressed nations, the hopes of civil, political, social, and religious liberty. Oh, let me entreat you, with the brief and stammering words of a warm heart, overwhelmed with emo- tions and with sorrowful cares let me entreat you, ladies, to be watchful of the sympathy of your people, like the mother over the cradle of her beloved child. It is worthy of your watchful care, because it is the cradle of regenerated humanity. Especially in regard to my poor fatherland, I have particular claims on the fairer and better half of humanity, which you are. The first of these claims is, that there is not, perhaps, on the face of the earth a nation which in its institutions has shown more chivalric regard for THE ORATOR. 39 ladies than the Hungarian. It is a praiseworthy trait of the Oriental character. You know that it was the Moorish race in Spain who were the founders of the chivalric era in Europe, so full of personal virtue, so full of noble deeds, so devoted to the service of ladies, to heroism, and to the protection of the oppressed. You are told that the ladies of the East are degraded to less almost than a human condition, being secluded from all social life, and pent up within the harem's walls. And so it is. But you must not judge the East by the measure of European civilization. They have their own civilization, quite different from ours in views, inclinations, affections, and thoughts. We in Hungary have gained from the "West the advan- tages of civilization for our women, but we have preserved for them the regard and reverence of our Oriental character. Nay, more than that, we carried these views into our institutions and into our laws. With us, the widow remains the head of the family, as the father was. As long as she lives, she is the mistress of the property of her deceased husband. The chivalrous spirit of the nation supposes she will provide, with motherly care, for the wants of her children ; and she remains in possession so long as she bears her deceased husband's name. Under the old constitution of Hungaiy (which we reformed upon a democratic basis it having been aristocratic) the widow of a lord had the right to send her representative to the parlia- ment, and in the county elections of public functionaries widows had a right to vote alike with the men. Perhaps this chivalric character of my nation, so full of regard towards the fair sex, may somewhat commend my mission to the ladies of America. Our second particular claim is, that the source of all the misfortune which now weighs so heavily upon my bleeding fatherland, is in two ladies Catharine of Russia, and Sophia of Hapsburg, the ambitious mother of this second Nero, Francis-Joseph. You know that one hundred and fifty years ago, Charles the Twelfth of Sweden, the bravest of the brave, foreseeing the growth of Russia, and fearing that it would oppress and overwhelm civilization, ventured with a handful of men to attack its rising power. After immortal deeds, and almost fabulous victories, one loss made him a refugee upon Turkish soil, like myself. But, happier than myself, he succeeded in persuading Turkey of the necessity of checking Russia in her over- weening ambition, and curtailing her growth. On went Mehemet Baltadji with his Turks, and met Peter the Czar, and pent him up in a corner, where there was no possibility of escape. There Mehemet held him with iron grasp till hunger came to his aid. Nature claimed her rights, and in a council of war it was decided to surrender to Mehemet. Then Catharine, who was present in the camp, appeared in person before the Grand Vizier to sue for mercy. She was fair, and she was rich with jewels of name- less value. She went to the Grand Vizier's tent. She came back without her jewels, but she brought mercy, and Russia was saved. From that celebrated day dates the downfall of Turkey, and the growth of Russia. Out of this source flowed the stream of Russian preponder- ance over the European continent. The de- . pression of liberty, and the nameless sufferings of Poland and of my poor native land, are the. dreadful fruits of Catharine's success on that day, cursed in the records of the human race. The second lady who will be cursed through all posterity in her memory, is Sophia, the mother of the present usurper of Hungary she who had the ambitious dream to raise the power of a child upon the ruins of liberty, and on the neck of prostrate nations. It /was her ambition the evil genius of the house of Hapsburg in the present day which brought desolation upon us. I need only mention one fact to characterize what kind of a heart was in that woman. On the anniversary of the day of Arad, where our martyrs bled, she came to the court with a bracelet of rubies set in so many roses as was the number of heads of the brave Hungarians who fell there, declaring that she joyfully exhibited it to the company as a memento which she wears on her very arm, to cherish in eternal memory the pleasure she derived from the killing of those heroes at Arad. This very fact may give you a true knowledge of the character of that woman, and this is the second claim to the ladies' sympathy for oppressed humanity and for my poor fatherland. Our third particular claim is the behaviour of our ladies during the last war. It is no arbitrary praise it is a fact that, in the struggle for our rights and freedom, we had no more powerful auxiliaries, and no more faithful executors of the will of the nation, than the women of Hungaiy. You know that in ancient Rome, after the battle of Cannae, which was won by Hannibal, the Senate called on the people spontaneously to sacrifice all their wealth on the altar of their fatherland. Every jewel, every ornament was brought forth, but still the tribune judged it necessary to pass a law prohibiting the ladies of Rome to wear more than half an ounce of gold, or parti- coloured splendid dresses. Now, we wanted in Hungaiy no such law. The women of Hungary brought all that they had. You would have been astonished to see how, in the most wealthy houses of Hungary, if you were invited to dinner, you would be forced to eat soup witli iron spoons. When the wounded and the sick and many of them we had, because we fought hard when the wounded and the sick were not so well provided as it would have been 40 THE ORATOR. our duty and our pleasure to do, I ordered the respective public functionaries to take care of them. But the poor wounded went on suffer- ing, and the proper officers were but slow in providing for them. "When I saw this, one single word was spoken to the ladies of Hun- gary, and in a short time there was provision made for hundreds of thousands of sick. And I never met a single mother who would have withheld her son from sharing in the battle ; but I have met many who ordered and com- manded their children to fight for their father- land. I saw many and many brides who urged on the bridegrooms to delay their day of hap- piness till they should come back victorious from the battles of their fatherland. Thus acted the ladies of Hungary. A country de- serves to live ; a country deserves to have a future, when the women, as much as the men, love and cherish it. ./But I have a stronger motive than all these /to claim your protecting sympathy for my country's cause. It is her nameless woe, name- less sufferings. In the name of that ocean of bloody tears which the impious hand of the tyrant wrung from the eyes of the childless mothers, of the brides who beheld the execu- tioner's sword between them and their wedding day in the name of all these mothers, wives, brides, daughters, and sisters, who, by thousands of thousands, weep over the graves of Magyars so dear to their hearts, who weep the bloody tears of a patriot (as they all are) over the face of their beloved native land in the name of all those torturing stripes with which the flogging hand of Austrian tyrants dared to outrage human nature in the womankind of my native land in the name of that daily curse against Austria with which even the prayers of our women are mixed in the name of the nameless sufferings of my own dear wife [here the whole audience rose and cheered vehemently'] the faithful companion of my life of her, who for months and for months was hunted by my country's tyrants, with no hope, no support, no protection but at the humble threshold of the hard-working people, as noble and generous as they are poor in the name of my poor little children, who when so young as to be scarcely conscious of life, had already to learn what an Austrian prison is in the name of all this, and what is still worse, in the name of liberty trodden down, I claim, ladies of New York, your protecting sympathy for my country's cause. Nobody can do more for it than you. Tho heart of man is as soft wax in yoiir tender hands. Mould it, ladies ; mould it into the form of generous compassion for my country's wrongs ; inspire it with the noble feelings of your own hearts ; inspire it with the conscious- ness of your country's power, dignity, and might. You are the framers of man's cha- racter. Whatever be the fate of man, one stamp he always bears on his brow that which the mother's hand impressed upon the soul of the child. The smile of your lips can make a hero out of the coward, and a generous man out of the egotist ; one word from you inspires the youth to noble resolutions ; the lustre of your eyes is the fairest reward for the toils of life. You can kindle energy even in the breast of broken age, that once more it may blaze up in a noble generous deed before it dies. All this power you have. Use it, ladies, in behalf of your country's glory, and for the benefit of oppressed humanity, and when you meet a cold calculator, who thinks by arithmetic when he is called to feel the wrongs of oppressed na- tions, convert him, ladies. Your smiles are commands, and the truth which pours forth instinctively from your hearts, is mightier than the logic articulated by any scholar. The Peri excluded from Paradise, brought many generous gifts to heaven in order to regain it. She brought the dying sigh of a patriot ; the kiss of a faithful girl imprinted upon the lips of her bridegroom, when they were distorted by the venom of the plague. She brought many other fair gifts ; but the doors of Paradise opened before her only when she brought with her the first prayer of a man converted to charity and brotherly love for his oppressed brethren and humanity. Remember the power which you have, and which I have endeavoured to point out in a few brief words. Remember this, and form associations ; establish ladies' committees to raise substantial aid for Hungary. \Now I have done. One word only remains ' to be said a word of deep sorrow, the word, " Farewell, New York ! " New Ybrk ! that word will for ever make every string of my heart thrill. I am like a wandering bird. I am worse than a wandering bird. He may return, to his summer home ; I have no home on earth ! Here I felt almost at home. But " Forward " is my call, and I must part. I part with the hope that the sympathy which I have met here in a short transitory home will bring me yet back to my own beloved home, so that my ashes may yet mix with the dust of my native soil. Ladies, remember Hungary, and farewell ! LORD BROUGHAM. Born 1778. SALUTARY INNOVATION. rilHE great stream of time is perpetually JL flowing 011 ; all things around us are in ceaseless motion ; and we vainly imagine to preserve our relative position among them by THE OEATOE. 41 getting out of the current and standing stock still on the margin. The stately vessel we be- long to glides down ; our bark is attached to it; we might " pursue the triumph and partake the gale ; " but, worse than the fool who stares ex- pecting the current to flow down and run out, we exclaim, " Stop the boat ! " and would tear it away to strand it, for the sake of preserving its connection with the vessel. All the changes that are hourly and gently going on in spite of us, and all those which we ought to make, that violent severances of settled relations may not be effected, far from exciting murmurs of dis- content, ought to be gladly hailed as dispensa- tions of a bountiful Providence, instead of filling us with a thoughtless and preposterous alarm. EICHAED B. SHEEIDAN. Born 1751. Died 1816. [THE following is an extract from one of the few speeches of Sheridan that have been tolerably reported. Even this, though in its present state abounding with wit, must have lost greatly in the clumsy process of reporting then in vogue. Sheridan's speeches have, perhaps, suffered more than those of any other orator of equal celebrity, partially owing, no doubt, to the more sparkling and evanescent character of his elo- quence, as different from that of Mr. Pitt or Mr. Burke, as champagne is from port wine. It effervesced ; the reporters could not or would not catch its magic sparkle, and the magnificent speech which so disturbed the senators of England, that they found it impossible to continue their deliberations with befitting equability and unbiassed judgment, may now be read without causing an emotion to the orator's most enthusiastic admirer. The following extract is a fair example of his power of apt and quick reply, and is taken from a speech delivered against the second reading of Mr. Pitt's bill for the New Assessed Taxes presented to the House of Commons in 1797. The bill, in spite of the opposi- tion of Fox and Sheridan, was finally carried, and Eng- land received her first lesson in the income tax.] ^ WISE MAN, sir, it is said, should doubt _GL of everything. It was this maxim, pro- bably, that dictated the amiable diffidence of the learned gentleman,* who addressed himself to the chair in these remarkable words " I rise, Mr. Speaker, if I have risen." Now, to remove all doubts, I can assure the learned gentleman f that he actually did rise; and not only rose, but pronounced an able, long, and elaborate discourse, a considerable portion of which was employed in an erudite dissertation on the his- tories of Eome and Carthage. I He further in- formed the House, upon the authority of Scipio, that we could never conquer the enemy until we were first conquered ourselves. It was when Hannibal was at the gates of Eome, that Scipio had thought the proper moment for the invasion * Dr. Lawrence. f Mr. Perceval, afterwards Chancellor of the Exche- quer, and in 1809, Prime Minister. He was assassi- nated in the lobby of the House of Commons, May 11, 1812, by a man named Bellingharn. NO. VI. of Carthage, what a pity it is that the learned gentleman does not go with this conso- lation and the authority of Scipio to the lord mayor and aldermen of the city of London. Let him say, " Eejoice, my friends ! Buonaparte is encamped at Blackheath ! What happy tid- ings ! " For here Scipio tells us, you may every moment expect to hear of Lord Hawkesbury making his triumphal entry into Paris.* It would be whimsical to observe how they would receive such joyful news. I should like to see such faces as they would make on that occasion. Though I doubt not of the erudition of the learned gentleman, he seems to me to have somehow confounded the stories of Hanno and Hannibal, of Scipio and the Eomans. He told us that Carthage was lost by the parsimony or envy of Hanno, in preventing the necessary supplies for the war being sent to Hannibal : but he neglected to go a little further, and to relate that Hanno accused the latter of having been ambitious " Juvenem furentem cupidine regni ;" and assured the senate that Hannibal, though at the gates of Eome, was no less dangerous to Hanno. Be this, however, as it may, is there any Hanno in the British senate ? If there is, nothing can be more certain than that all the efforts and remonstrances of the British Hanno could not prevent a single man, or a single guinea, being sent for the supply of any Hannibal our ministers might choose. The learned gen- tleman added, after the defeat of Hannibal, Hanno laughed at the senate; but he did not tell us what he laughed at. The advice of Hannibal has all the appearance of being a good one " Carthaginis mcenia Romaa munerata." If they did not follow his advice, they had themselves to blame for it. From the strain of declamation in which the learned gentleman launched out, it seems as if he came to this House as executor to a man whose genius was scarcely equalled by the ec- centricities he sometimes indulged. He appears to come as executor, and in the House of Com- mons, to administer to Mr. Burke's fury without any of his fire. It is, however, in vain for him to attempt any imitation of those declamatory harangues and writings of the transcendent author, which, towards the latter part of his life, were, as I think, unfortunately too much applauded. When not embellished with those ornaments which Mr. Burke was so capable of adding to all he either spoke or wrote, the subject of such declamations could only claim the admiration of a school-boy. The circum- stance of a great extensive and victorious re- * Alludes to a boast of his lordship, at an early period of the war against France. D 2 42 THE ORATOR. public, breathing nothing but war in the long exercise of its most successful operations, sur- rounded with triumphs, and panting for fresh laurels, to be compared, much less represented as inferior, to the military power of England, is childish and ridiculous. What similitude is there between us and the great Roman republic in the height of its fame and glory ? Did you, sir, ever hear it stated, that the Roman bulwark was a naval force ? And if not, what compa- rison can there be drawn between their efforts and power ? This kind of rhodomontade de- clamation is finely described in the language of one of the Roman poets " I, demens, curre per Alpes, Ut pueris placeas, et DECLAMATIO fias."* Go, fight, to please school-boy statesmen, and furnish a DECLAMATION for a Doctor, learned in the law. * * # # The proper ground, sir, upon which this bill should be opposed, I conceive to be neither the uncertainty of the criterion, nor the injustice of the retrospect, though they would be sufficient. The tax itself will be found to defeat its own purposes. The amount which an individual paid to the assessed taxes last year can be no rule for what he shall pay in future. All the articles by which the gradations rose must be s laid aside, and never resumed againx" Circum- stanced as the country is, there can be no hope, no chance whatever, that, if the tax succeeds, it ever will be repealed. Each individual, there- fore, instead of putting down this article or that, will make a final and general retrenchment ; so | that the minister cannot get at him in the same way again, by any outward sign which might be used as a criterion of his wealth. These retrenchments cannot fail of depriving thousands of their bread ; and it is vain to hold out the delusion of modification or indemnity to the lower orders. Every burthen imposed upon the rich in the articles which give the poor employ- ment, affects them not the less for affecting them circuitously. A coach-maker, for instance, would willingly compromise with the minister, to give him a hundred guineas not to lay the tax upon coaches ; for though the hundred guineas would be much more than his proportion of the new tax, yet it would be much better for him, to pay the larger contribution, than, by the laying down of coaches, be deprived of those orders by which he got his bread. The same is the case with watchmakers, which I had lately an opportunity of witnessing, who, by the tax imposed last year, are reduced to a state of ruin, starvation, and misery ; yet, in proposing that tax, the minister alleged, that the poor journey- men could not be affected, as the tax would only operate on the gentlemen by whom the watches ( were worn. It is as much cant, therefore, to * Juvenal, Sat. x. 166. say, that by bearing heavily on the rich, we are saving the lower orders, as it is folly to suppose we can come at real income by arbitrary assess- . ment, or by symptoms of opulence-XThere are three ways of raising large sums Of money in a State : First, by voluntary contributions ; se- condly, by a great addition of new taxes ; and thirdly, by forced contributions, which is the worst of all, and which I aver the present plan to be. I am at present so partial to the first mode that I recommend the further consideration of this measure to be postponed for a month, in order to make an experiment of what might be effected by it. For this purpose let a bill be brought in, authorizing the proper persons to receive voluntary contributions; and I should not care if it were read a third time to-night. I confess, however, that there are many powerful reasons which forbid us to be too sanguine in the success even of this measure. To awaken a spirit in the nation, the example should come from the first authority, and the higher depart- ments of the State. It is, indeed, seriously to be lamented, that whatever may be the burthens or distresses of the people, the Government has hitherto never shown a disposition to contribute anything ; and this conduct must hold out a poor encouragement to others. Heretofore all the public contributions were made for the benefit and profit of the contributors, in a manner inconceivable to more simple nations. If a native inhabitant of Bengal or China were to be informed, that in the west of Europe there was a small island, which in the course of one hundred years contributed four hundred and fifty millions to the exigencies of the State, and that every individual, on the making of a demand, vied with his neighbour in alacrity to subscribe, he would immediately exclaim, " Mag- nanimous nation ! you must surely be invin- cible." But far different would be his sentiments, if informed of the tricks and jobs attending these transactions, where even loyalty was seen cringing for its bomis ! If the first example were given from the highest authority, there would at least be some hopes of its being followed by other great men, who received large revenues from the Government. I would instance particularly the teller of the exchequer, and another person of high rank, who receive from their offices 13,OOOZ. a year more in war than they do in peace. The last noble lord * had openly declared for perpetual war, and could not bring his mind to think of anything like a peace with the French. Without mean- ing any personal disrespect, it was the nature of the human mind to receive a bias from such circumstances. So much was this acknowledged in the rules of this House, that any person receiving a pension or high employment from * Lord Grenville. THE ORATOR. 43 his Majesty, thereby vacated his seat. It was not, therefore, unreasonable to expect that the noble lord would contribute his proportion, and that a considerable one, to carry on the war, in order to show the world his freedom from such a bias. In respect to a near relative of that noble lord, I mean the noble marquis,* there could be no doubt of his coming forward liberally. I remember, when I was secretary to the Treasury, the noble marquis sent a letter . there, requesting that his office might, in point of fees and emoluments, be put under the same economical regulations as the others. The reason he assigned for it was, " the emoluments were so much greater in time of war than peace, that his conscience would be hurt by feeling that he received them from the distresses of his country." "No retrenchment, however, took place in that office. If, therefore, the marquis thought proper to bring the arrears 'since that time also from his conscience, the public would be at least 40,OOOZ. the better for it. By a cal- culation I have made, which I believe cannot be controverted, it appears, from the vast increase of our burthens during the war, that if peace were to be concluded to-morrow, we should have to provide taxes annually to the v amount of 28,000,000?. To this is further to be added, the expense of that system, by which Ireland is not governed, but ground, insulted, and op- pressed. To find a remedy for all these incum- brances, the first thing to be done is, to restore the credit of the Bank, which has failed, as well in credit as in honour. Let it no longer, in the minister's hands, remain the slave of political circumstances. It must continue insolvent till the connection is broken off. I remember, in consequence of expressions made use of in this House, upon former discussions, when it was thought the minister would relinquish that un- natural and ruinous alliance, the newspapers sported a good deal with the idea that the House of Commons had forbid the banns between him and the old lady.-f Her friends had interfered, -it was said, to prevent the union, as it was well known that it was her dower he sought, and not her person nor the charms of her society. The old lady herself, however, when wooed, was quickly won, and nothing could be more indeli- cate than to observe her soon afterwards ogling her swain, and wantonly courting that violence she at first complained of. In the first instance it might be no more than a case of seduction ; but from her subsequent conduct, it became ar- rant prostitution. " I swear I could not see the dear betrayer Kneel at' my feet, and sigh to be forgiven ; But my relenting heart would pardon all, And quite forget 'twas he that had undone me." * Marquis of Buckingham. f Old lady of Threadnoedle Street. It is, sir, highly offensive to the decency and sense of a commercial people, to observe the juggle between the minister and the Bank. The latter vauntingly boasted itself ready and able to pay ; but that the minister kindly prevented, and put a lock and Jcey upon it. There is a liberality in the British nation which always makes allowance for inability of payment. Commerce requires enterprise, and enterprise is subject to losses. But I believe no indulgence was ever shown to a creditor, saying, " I can, but will not pay you." Such was the real con- dition of the Bank, together with its accounts, when they were laid before the House of Com- mons ; and the chairman* reported from the committee, stating its prosperity, and the great increase of its cash and bullion. The minister, however, took care to verify the old saying, " Brag is a good dog, but Hold-fast is better." "Ah ! " said he, "my worthy chairman, this is excellent news, but I will take care to secure it." He kept his word, took the money, gave exchequer bills for it, which were no security, and there was then an end to all our public credit. It is singular enough, sir, that the report upon this bill stated that it was meant to secure our public credit from the avowed intentions of the French to make war upon it. This was done most effectually. Let the French come when they please, they cannot touch our public credit at least. The minister has wisely provided against it, for he has previously destroyed it. The only consolation besides that remains to us, is his assurance that all will return again to its former state at the conclusion of the war. Thus we are to hope, that though the Bank now presents a meagre spectre, as soon as peace is restored the golden lust will make its reappear- ance. This, however, is far from being the way to inspirit the nation or intimidate the enemy. Ministers have long taught the people of the inferior order, that they can expect nothing from them but by coercion, and nothing from the great but by corruption. The highest encouragement to the French will be to observe the public supineness. Can they have any appre- hension of national energy or spirit in a people whose minister is eternally oppressing them ? Though, sir, I have opposed the present tax, I am still conscious that our existing situation requires great sacrifices to be made, and that a foreign enemy must at all events be resisted. I behold in the measures of the minister nothing except the most glaring incapacity, and the most determined hostility to our liberties ; but we must be content, if necessary for preserving our independence from foreign attack, to strip to the skin. ?' It is an established maxim," we are told, that men must give up a part for the preservation of the remainder. I do not dispute * Mr. Bragge. THE OEATOE. the justice of the maxim. But this is the con- stant language of the gentleman opposite to me. We have already given up part after part, nearly till the whole is swallowed up. If I had a pound, and a person asked me for a shilling, to preserve the rest I should willingly comply, and think myself obliged to him. But if he repeated that demand till he came to my twentieth shilling, I should ask him, " Where is the remainder ? Where is my pound now ? Why, my friend, that is no joke at all." Upon the whole, sir, I see no salvation for the country but in the conclusion of a peace, and the removal of the present ministers. GEOEGE WASHINGTON. Born 1732. Died 1799. ADDRESS TO HIS TROOPS BEFORE THE BATTLE OF LONG ISLAND, 1776. fPHE time is now near at hand, which must JL probably determine whether Americans are to be freemen or slaves ; whether they are to have any property they can call their own ; whether their houses and farms are to be pil- laged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretchedness, from which no human efforts will deliver them. The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a brave resistance, or the most abject submission. We have, therefore, to resolve to conquer or to die. Our own, our country's honour, calls upon us for a vigorous and manly exertion ; and if we now shamefully fail, we shall become infamous to the whole world. Let us, then, rely on the goodness of our cause, and the aid of the Supreme Being, in whose hands victory is, to animate and encourage us to great and noble actions. The eyes of all our countrymen are now upon us, and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily we are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny meditated against them. Let us therefore animate and encourage each other, and show the whole world, that a freeman contending for liberty on his own ground, is superior to any slavish mer- cenary on earth. ' Liberty, property, life, and honour are all at stake; upon your courage and conduct rest the hopes of our bleeding and insulted country ; our wives, children, and parents expect safety from us only ; and they have every reason to believe that Heaven will crown with success so just a cause. The enemy will endeavour to intimidate by show and appearance ; but remember, they have been repulsed on various occasions by a few brave Americans. Their cause is bad their men are conscious of it ; and, if opposed with firmness and coolness on their first onset, with our advantage of works and knowledge of the ground, the victory is most assuredly ours. Every good soldier will be silent and attentive wait for orders and reserve his fire until he is sure of d ing execution. SIE JAMES MACKINTOSH. Born 1766. Died 1832. [THE following speech was delivered by Sir James (then Mr.) Mackintosh, in defence of M. Peltier, a royalist refugee, on the 21st of Feb., 1803, at his trial at the Court of King's Bench, for libelling Napoleon Buonaparte, then First Consul of the French Republic, in a weekly paper called L'AmMgu. It was during the temporary cessation of '.ostilities procured by the short-lived truce of Amiens, that the English Govern- ment allowed this trial to take place, and the verdict, notwithstanding the fine speech of Mackintosh, was unfavourable to his client. Before, however, M. Pel- tier was called up to receive the judgment of the Court, war broke out again between the two countries, which stopped all further proceedings.] SPEECH IN DEFENCE OF M. PELTIER. rilHE time is now come for me to address you JL on behalf of the unfortunate gentleman who is the defendant on this record. * * * * I cannot but feel, gentlemen, how much I stand in need of your favourable attention and indulgence. The charge which I have to defend is surrounded with the mosb invidious topics of discussion ; but they are not of my seeking. The case and the topics which are inseparable from it, are brought here by the prosecutor. Here I find them, and here it is my duty to deal with them, as the interests of M. Peltier seem to me to require. He, by his choice and confidence, has cast on me a very arduous duty, which I could not decline, and which I can still less betray. He has a right to expect from me a faithful, a zealous, and a fearless defence ; and this his just expectation, according to the measure of my humble abilities, shall be fulfilled. I have said a fearless defence. Perhaps that word was unnecessary in the place where I now stand. Intrepidity in the discharge of profes- sional duty is so common a quality at the English bar, that it has, thank God, long ceased to be a matter of boast or praise. If it had been otherwise, gentlemen, if the bar could have been silenced or overawed by power, I may presume to say, that an English jury would not this day have been met to administer justice. Perhaps I need scarce say that my defence shall be fearless, in a place where fear never entered any heart but that of a criminal. But you will pardon me for having said so much, when you consider who the real parties before you are. THE ORATOR. 45 Gentlemen, the real prosecutor is the master of the greatest empire the civilized world ever saw. The defendant is a defenceless proscribed exile. He is a French royalist, who fled from his country in the autumn of 1792, at the period of that memorable and awful emigration, when all the proprietors and magistrates of the greatest civilized country of Europe were driven from their homes by the daggers of assassins ; when our shores were covered, as with the wreck of a great tempest, with old men and women and children and ministers of religion, who fled from the ferocity of their countrymen as before an army of invading barbarians. The greatest part of these unfortunate exiles, of those I mean who have been spared by the sword, who have survived the effect of pesti- lential climates or broken hearts, have been since permitted to revisit their country. Though despoiled of their all, they have eagerly embraced even the sad privilege of being suffered to die in their native land. Even this miserable indulgence was to be purchased \)y compliances, by declarations of allegiance to the new Government, Avhich some of these suffering royalists deemed incompatible with their consciences, with their dearest attach- ments, and their most sacred duties. Among these last is M. Peltier. I do not presume to blame those who submitted, and I trust you will not judge harshly of those who refused. You will not think unfavourably of a man who stands before you as the voluntary victim of his loyalty and honour. If a revolution (which God avert) were to drive us into exile, and to cast us on a foreign shore, we should expect, at least, to be pardoned by generous men, for stubborn loyalty, and unseason- able fidelity to the laws and government of our fathers. This unfortunate gentleman had devoted a great part of his life to literature. It was the amusement and ornament of his better days. Since his own ruin, and the desolation of his country, he has been compelled to employ it as a means of support. For the last ten years he has been engaged in a variety of publications of considerable importance ; but, since the peace, he has desisted from serious political discussion, and confined himself to the obscure journal * which is now before you ; the least calculated, surely, of any publication that ever issued from the press, to rouse the alarms of the most jealous Government; which will not be read in England, because it is not written in our language ; which cannot be read in France, because its entry into that country is prohibited by a power whose mandates are not veiy supinely enforced, nor often evaded with im- punity ; which can have no other object than * L'Ambiffu. that of amusing the companions of the author's principles and misfortunes, by pleasantries and sarcasms on their victorious enemies. There is, indeed, gentlemen, one remarkable circum- stance in this unfortunate publication : it is the only, or almost the only, journal which still dares to espouse the cause of that royal and illustrious family, which but fourteen years ago was flattered by every press, and guarded by every tribunal in Europe. Even the court in which we are met affords an example of the vicissitudes of their fortune. My learned friend has reminded you, that the last prosecution tried in this place, at the instance of a French Government, was for a libel on that magna- nimous princess* who has since been butchered in sight of her palace. I do not make these observations with any purpose of questioning the general principles which have been laid down by my learned friend. I must admit his right to bring before you those who libel any Government recognized by his Majesty, and at peace with the British empire. I admit that whether such a Govern- ment be of yesterday, or a thousand years old, whether it be a crude and bloody usurpation, or the most ancient, just, and paternal authority upon earth, we are here equally bound by his Majesty's recognition to protect it against libellous attacks. I admit that if, during our usurpation, Lord Clarendon had published his history at Paris, or the Marquis of Montrose his verses on the murder of his sovereign, or Mr. Cowley his discourse on Cromwell's govern- ment, and if the English ambassador had com- plained, the President de Moli, or any other of the great magistrates who then adorned the parliament of Paris, however reluctantly, pain- fully, and indignantly, might have been com- pelled to have condemned these illustrious men to the punishment of libellers. I say this only for the sake of bespeaking a favourable attention from your generosit} r and compassion to what will be feebly urged in behalf of my unfortunate client, who has sacrificed his fortune, his hopes, his connections, his country, to his conscience ; who seems marked out for destruction in this his last asylum. That he still enjoys the security of this asylum, that he has not been sacrificed to the resentment of his powerful enemies, is perhaps owing to the firmness of the king's Government. If that be the fact, gentlemen ; if his Majesty's ministers have resisted applica- tions to expel this unfortunate gentleman from England, I should publicly thank them for their firmness, if it were not unseemly and improper to suppose that they could have acted otherwise to thank an English Govern- ment for not violating the most sacred duties * Marie Antoinette. 46 THE OEATOE. of hospitality ; for not bringing indelible disgrace on their country. But be that as it may, gentlemen, he now comes before you, perfectly satisfied that an English jury is the most refreshing prospect that the eye of accused innocence ever met in a human tribunal ; and he feels with me the most fervent gratitude to the Protector of empires, that, surrounded as we are with the ruins of principalities and powers, we still continue to meet together, after the manner of our fathers, to administer justice in this her ancient sanctuary. There is another point of view in which this case seems to me to merit your most serious attention. I consider it as the first of a long series of conflicts between the greatest power in the world, and the only free press remaining in Europe Gentlemen, this distinctionof the English press is new ; it is a proud and melan- choly distinction. Before the great earthquake of the French revolution had swallowed up all the asylums of free discussion on the Continent, we enjoyed that privilege, indeed, more fully than others ; but we did not enjoy it exclusively. In great monarchies the press has always been considered as too formidable an engine to be entrusted to unlicensed individuals. But in other continental countries, either by the laws of the State, or by long habits of liberality and toleration in magistrates, a liberty of discussion has been enjoyed, perhaps sufficient for most useful purposes. It existed, in fact, where it was not protected by law; and the wise and generous connivance of Governments was daily more and more secured by the growing civiliza- tion of their subjects. In Holland, in Switzer- land, in the imperial towns of Germany, the press was either legally or practically free. Holland and Switzerland are no more ; and since the commencement of this prosecution, fifty imperial towns have been erased from the list of independent states, by one dash of the pen. Three or four still preserve a precarious and trembling existence. I will not say by what compliances they must purchase its con- tinuance. I will not insult the feebleness of states whose unmerited fall I do most bitterly deplore. These Governments were in many respects one of the most interesting parts of the ancient system of Europe. * * * * The perfect security of such inconsider- able and feeble states, their undisturbed tranquillity, amidst the wars and conquests that surrounded them, attested beyond any other part of the European system, the moderation, the justice, the civilization to which Christian Europe had reached in modern times. Their weakness was protected only by the habitual reverence for justice which, during a long series of ages, had grown up in Christendom. This was the only fortification which defended them against those mighty monarchs to whom they offered so easy a prey. And till the French revolution this was sufficient. Consider, for instance, the situation of the republic of Geneva. Think of her defenceless position in the very jaws of France ; but think also of her undisturbed security, of her profound quiet, of the brilliant success with which she applied to industry and literature, while Louis XIV. was pouring his myriads into Italy before her gates. Call to mind, if ages ci'owded into years have not effaced them from your memory, that happy period when we scarcely dreamt more of the subjugation of the feeblest republic of Europe, than of the conquest of her mightiest empire, and tell me if you can imagine a spectacle more beautiful to the moral eye, or a more striking proof of progress in the noblest principles of time civilization. These feeble states, these monuments of the justice of Europe, the asylum of peace, of industry, and of literature, the organs of public reason, the refuge of oppressed innocence and persecuted truth, have perished with those ancient principles which were their sole guar- dians and protectors. They have been swallowed up by that fearful convulsion which has shaken the uttermost corners of the earth. They are destroyed and gone for ever. One asylum of free discussion is still inviolate. There is still one spot in Europe where man can freely exercise his reason on the most important concerns of society, where he can boldly publish his judgment on the acts of the proudest and most powerful tyrants. The press of England is still free. It is guarded by the free constitu- tion of our forefathers. It is guarded by the hearts and arms of Englishmen, and I trust I may venture to say, that if it be to fall, it will fall only under the ruins of the British empire. It is an awful consideration, gentlemen. Every other monument of European liberty has perished. That ancient fabric which has been gradually reared by the wisdom and virtue of our fathers still stands it stands, thanks be to God ! solid and entire but it stands alone, and it stands amidst ruins. * * # # The principles of the law of England on the subject of political libel are few and simple, and they are necessarily so broad, that, without a habitually mild administration of justice, they might encroach materially on the liberty of political discussion. Every publication which is intended to vilify either our own Govern- ment, or the Government of any foreign State in amity with this kingdom, is, by the law of England, a libel. # * * * THE OEATOE. 47 In all other cases the most severe execution of law can only spread terror among the guilty ; but in political libels it inspires even the innocent with fear. This striking peculiarity arises from the same circumstances which make it impossible to define the limits of libel and innocent discussion ; -which make it impossible for a man of the purest and most honourable mind to be always perfectly certain whether he be within the territory of fair argument and honest narrative, or whether he may not have unwittingly overstepped the faint and varying line which bounds them. But, gentlemen, I will go further. This is the only offence where severe and frequent punishments not only inti- midate the innocent, but deter men from the most meritorious acts, and from rendering the most important services to their country. They indispose and disqualify men for the discharge of the most sacred duties which they owe to mankind. To inform the public on the conduct of those who administer public affairs, requires courage and conscious security. It is always an invidious and obnoxious office ; but it is often the most necessary of all public duties. If it is not done boldly, it cannot be done effectually, and it is not from writers trembling under the uplifted scourge, that we are to hope for it. There are other matters, gentlemen, to which I am desirous of particularly calling your atten- tion. These are the circumstances in the con- dition of this country, which have induced our ancestors, at all times, to handle, with more than ordinary tenderness, that branch of the liberty of discussion which is applied to the conduct of foreign States. * * * * Our ancestors never thotight it their policy to avert the resentment of foreign tyrants by enjoining English writers to contain and repress their just abhorrence of the criminal enterprises of ambition. This great and gallant nation, which has fought in the front of every battle against the oppressors of Europe, has sometimes inspired fear, but, thank God, she has never felt it. We know that they are our real, and must soon become our declared, foes. We know that there can be no cordial amity between the natural enemies and the indepen- dence of nations. We have never adopted the cowardly and short-sighted policy of silencing our press, of breaking the spirit and palsying the hearts of oxir people, for the sake of a hollow and precarious truce. We have never been base enough to purchase a short respite from hos- tilities, by sacrificing the first means of defence ; the means of rousing the public spirit of the people, and directing it against the enemies of their country and of Europe. * * * # Gentlemen, the French revolution I must pause, after I have uttered words which present such an overwhelming idea. But I have not now to engage in an enterprise so far beyond my force as that of examining and judging that tremendous revolution. I have only to consider the character of the factions which it must have left behind it. The French revolution began with great and fatal errors. These errors produced atrocious crimes. A mild and feeble monarchy was suc- ceeded by bloody anarchy, which very shortly gave birth to military despotism. France, in a few years, described the whole circle of human society. All this was in the order of nature. When every principle of authority and civil discipline, when every principle which enables some men to command and disposes others to obey was extirpated from the mind by atrocious theories, and still more atrocious examples ; when every old institution was trampled down with .con- tumely, and every new institution covered in its cradle with blood ; when the principle of property itself, the sheet-anchor of society, was annihi- lated ; when in the persons of the new possessors, whom the poverty of language obliges us to call proprietors, it was contaminated in its source by robbery and murder, and it became separated from that education and those manners, from that general presumption of superior knowledge and more scrupulous probity which form its only liberal titles to respect ; Iwhen the people were taught to despise everything old, and compelled to detest everything new ; there remained only one principle strong enough to hold society together, a 'principle utterly incompatible, indeed, with liberty, and unfriendly to civilization itself, a tyrannical and barbarous principle ; but, in that miserable condition of human affairs, a refuge from still more intolerable evils. I mean the principle of military power, which gains strength from that confusion and bloodshed in which all the other elements of society are dis- solved, and which, in these terrible extremities, is the cement that preserves it from total de- struction. Under such circumstances, Buonaparte usurped the supreme power in France. I say usurped, because an illegal assumption of power is a usurpation. But usurpation in its strongest moral sense, is scarcely applicable to a period of lawless and savage anarchy. The guilt of military usurpation, in truth, belongs to the author of those confusions which sooner or later give birth to such a usurpation. Thus, to use the words of the historian ; " by recent as well as all ancient example, it became evident that illegal violence, with whatever pretences it may be covered, and whatever object it may pursue, must inevitably end at last in the arbitrary and despotic government of a single person." But though the government of 48 THE ORATOR. Buonaparte has silenced the revolutionary fac- tions, it has not and it cannot have extinguished them. No human power could reimpress upon the minds of men all those sentiments and opinions which the sophistry and anarchy of fourteen years had obliterated. A faction must exist, which breathes the spirit of the ode now before you. It is, I know, not the spirit of the quiet and submissive majority of the French people. They have always rather suffered than acted in the revolution. Completely exhausted by the cala- mities through which they have passed, they yield to any power which gives them repose. There is, indeed, a degree of oppression which rouses men to resistance; but there is another and a greater which wholly subdues and unmans them. It is remarkable that Robespierre himself was safe till he attacked his own accomplices. The spirit of men of virtue was broken and there was no vigour of character left to destroy him, but in those daring ruffians who were the sharers of his tyranny. As for the wretched populace who were made the blind and senseless instrument of so many crimes, whose frenzy can now be reviewed by a good mind with scarce any moral sentiment but that of compassion ; that miserable multitude of beings, scarcely human, have already fallen into a brutish forgetfulness of the veiy atrocities which they themselves perpetrated. They have already forgotten all the acts of their drunken fury. If you ask one of them, who destroyed that magnificent monument of religion and art, or who perpetrated that massacre, they stupidly answer, the Jacobins ! though he who gives the answer was probably one of these Jacobins himself ; so that a traveller, ignorant of French history, might suppose the Jacobins to be the name of some Tartar horde, who, after laying waste France for ten years, were at last expelled by the native inhabitants. They have passed from senseless rage to stupid quiet. Their delirium is followed by lethargy. * * ' * Some of them, indeed, the basest of the race, the sophists, the rhetors, the poet-laureats of murder, who were cruel only from cowardice and calculating selfishness, are perfectly willing to transfer their venal pens to any Government that does not disdain their infamous support. /TThese men, republicans from servility, who published rhetorical panegyrics on massacre, and who reduced plunder to a system of ethics, are as ready to preach slavery as anarchy. But the more daring, I had almost said, the more re- spectable ruffians cannot so easily bend their heads under the yoke. These fierce spirits have not lost " the unconquerable will, the study of revenge, immortal hate." They leave the luxu- ries of servitude to the mean and dastardly hypocrites, to the Belials and Mammons of the infernal faction. They pursue their old end of tyranny tinder their old pretext of liberty. The recollection of their unbounded power renders every inferior condition irksome and vapid, and their former atrocities form, if I may so speak, a sort of moral destiny which irresistibly impels them to the perpetration of new crimes. They have no place left for penitence on earth. They labour under the most awful proscription of opinion that ever was pronounced against human beings. They have cut down eveiy bridge by which they could retreat into the society of men. Awakened from their dreams of democracy, the noise subsided that deafened their ears to the voice of humanity ; the film fallen from their eyes, which hid from them the blackness of their own deeds ; haunted by the memory of their inexpiable guilt ; condemned daily to look on the faces of those whom their hands made widows and orphans, they are goaded and scourged by these real furies, and hurried into the tumult of new crimes, which will drown the ciies of remorse, or if they be too depraved for remorse, will silence the curses of mankind. Tyrannical power is their only refuge from the just vengeance of their fellow creatures. Murder is their only means of usurping power. They have no taste, no occupation, no pursuit but\power and blood. If their hands are tied, they must at least have the luxury of murderous projects. They have drunk too deeply of human blood .ever to relin- quish their cannibal appetite. ^ * * * * It is no part of my case that M. Peltier has spoken with some impoliteness, with some flippancy, with more severity than my learned friend may approve, of factions and of adminis- trations in France. M. Peltier cannot love the revolution, or any government that has grown out of it and maintains it. The revolutionists have destroyed his family, they have seized his inheritance, they have beggared, exiled, and proscribed himself. If he did not detest them he would be unworthy of living, and he would be a base hypocrite if he were to conceal his sentiments. But I must again remind you, that this is not an information for not suffi- ciently honouring the French revolution, for not showing sufficient reverence for the consular Government. These are 110 crimes among us ; England is not yet reduced to such an igno- minious dependence. Our hearts and con- sciences arc not yet in the bonds of so wretched a slavery. This is an information for a libel on Buonaparte, and if you believe the principal intention of M. Peltier to have been to republish the writings, or to satirize the character of other individuals, yon must acquit him of a libel on the first consul. Here, gentlemen, I think I might stop, if I had only to consider the defence of M. Peltier. I tioist that you are already convinced of his THE ORATOR. 49 innocence. I fear I have exhausted your patience, as I am sure I have very nearly exhausted my own strength. But so much seems to me to depend on your verdict, that I cannot forbear from laying before you some considerations of a more general nature. Believing as I do that we are on the eve of a great struggle ; that this is only the first battle between reason and power ; that you have now in your hands, committed to your trust, the only remains of free discussion in Europe, now confined to this kingdom: address- ing yon, therefore, as the guardians of the most important interests of mankind; convinced that the unfettered exercise of reason depends more on your present verdict than on any other that was ever delivered by a jury, I cannot conclude without bringing before you the sentiments and examples of our ancestors in some of those awful and perilous situations by which Divine Providence has in former ages tried the virtue of the English nation. We are fallen upon times in which it behoves us to strengthen our spirits by the contemplation of great examples of constancy. Let us seek for them in the annals of our forefathers. The reign of Queen Elizabeth may be con- sidered as the opening of the modern history of England, especially in its connection with the modern system of Europe, which began about that time to assume the form that it preserved till the French revolution. It was a very memorable period, of which the maxims ought to be engraven on the head and heart of every Englishman. Philip II., at the head of the greatest empire then in the world, was openly aiming at universal domination, and his project was so far from being thought chimerical by the wisest of his contemporaries, that in the opinion of the great Due de Sully he must have been successful, " if, by a most singular combination of circumstances, he had not at the same time been resisted by two such strong heads as those of Henry IY. and Queen Elizabeth." To the most extensive and opulent dominions, the most numerous and disciplined armies, the most re- nowned captains, the greatest revenue, he added also the most formidable power over opinion. He was the chief of a religious faction, animated by the most atrocious fanaticism, prepared to second his ambition by rebellion, anarchy, and regicide, in every Protestant State. Elizabeth was among the first objects of his hostility. That wise and magnanimous princess placed herself in the front of the battle for the liberties of Europe. Though she had to contend at home with his fanatical faction, which almost occupied Ireland, which divided Scotland, and was not of contemptible strength in England, she aided the oppressed inhabitants of the Netherlands in their just and glorious resistance to his tyranny ; she aided Henry the Great in NO. VII. suppressing the abominable rebellion which anarchical principles had excited, and Spanish arms had supported, in France, and after a long reign of variotis fortune, in which she preserved her unconquered spirit through great calamities and still greater dangers, she at length broke the strength of the enemy, and reduced his power within such limits as to be compatible with the safety of England and of all Europe. Her only effectual ally was the spirit of her people, and her policy flowed from that magnani- mous nature which in the hour of peril teaches better lessons than those of cold reason. Her great heart inspired her with a higher and a nobler wisdom which disdained to appeal to the low and sordid passions of her people even for the protection of their low and sordid interests, because she knew, or rather she felt, that these are effeminate, creeping, cowardly, short-sighted passions, which shrink from con- flict even in defence of their own mean objects. In a righteous cause she roused those generous affections of her people which alone teach bold- ness, constancy, and foresight, and which are therefore the only safe guardians of the lowest as well as the highest interests of a nation. In her memorable address to her army, when the invasion of the kingdom was threatened by Spain, this woman of heroic spirit disdained to speak to them of their ease ar_d their commerce, and their wealth and their safety. No ! She touched another chord she spoke of their national honour, of their dignity as English- men, of " the foul scorn that Parma or Spain should dare to invade the borders of her realms." She breathed into them those grand and powerful sentiments which exalt vulgar men into heroes, which led them into the battle of their country, armed with holy and irresistible enthusiasm ; which even cover with their shield all the ignoble interests that base calculation and cowardly selfishness tremble to hazard, but shrink from defending. A sort of prophetic instinct, if I may so speak, seems to have revealed to her the importance of that great instrument for rousing and guiding the minds of men, of the effects of which she had no experience ; which, since her time, has changed the condition of the world, but which few modem statesmen have thoroughly under- stood or wisely employed ; which is no doubt connected with many ridiculous and degrading details ; which has produced, and which may again produce, terrible mischiefs ; but of which the influence must, after all, be considered as the most certain effect and the most efficacious cause of civilization, and which, whether it be a blessing or a curse, is the most powerful engine that a politician can move I mean the press. It is a curious fact, that in the year of the Armada, Queen Elizabeth caused to be printed the first gazettes that ever appeared in Eng- E 50 THE OEATOE. land; and I own, when I consider that this mode of rousing a national spirit was then absolutely unexampled, that she could have no assurance of its efficacy from the precedents of former times, I am disposed to regard her having recourse to it as one of the most saga- cious experiments, one of the greatest discoveries of political genius, one of the most striking anticipations of future experience, that we find in history. I mention it to you to justify the opinion that I have ventured to state, of the close connection of our national spirit with our press, even our periodical press. * # * * I am aware, gentlemen, that I have already abused your indulgence, but I must entreat you to bear with me for a short time longer, to allow me to suppose a case which might have occurred, in which you will see the horrible consequences of enforcing rigorously principles of law, which I cannot counteract, against political writers. We might have been at peace with France during the whole of that terrible period which elapsed between August, 1792, and 1794, which has been usually called the reign of Eobespierre ; the only series of crimes, perhaps, in history, which, in spite of the common disposition to exaggerate extra- ordinary facts, has been beyond measure under- rated in public opinion. I say this, gentlemen, after an investigation which I think entitles me to affirm it with confidence. Men's minds were oppressed by atrocity and the multitude of crimes; their humanity and their indolence took refuge in scepticism from such an over- whelming mass of guilt ; and the consequence was, that all these unparalleled enormities, though proved not only with the fullest his- torical, but with the strictest judicial evidence, were at the time only half believed, and are now scarcely half remembered. When these atrocities were daily perpetrating, of which the greatest part are as little known to the public in general as the campaigns of Genghis Khan, but are still protected from the scrutiny of men by the immensity of those voluminous records of guilt in which they are related, and under the mass of which they will be buried, till some historian be found with patience and courage enough to drag them forth into light, for the shame indeed, but for the instruction of mankind : when these crimes were perpe- trating, which had the peculiar malignity, from the pretexts with which they were covered, of making the noblest objects of human pursuit seem odious and detestable ; which has almost made the names of liberty, reformation, and humanity, synonymous with anarchy, robbery, and murder ; which thus threatened not only to extinguish every principle of improvement, to arrest the progress of civilized society, and to disinherit future generations of that rich suc- cession which they were entitled to expect from the knowledge and wisdom of the present, but to destroy the civilization of Europe, which never gave such a proof of its vigour and robustness as in being able to resist their destructive power : when all these horrors were acting in the greatest empire of the con- tinent, I will ask my learned friend, if we had then been at peace with France, how English writers were to relate them so as to escape the charge of libelling a friendly government P When Kobespierre, in the debates in the National Convention on the mode of murdering their blameless sovereign, objected to the formal and tedious mode of murder called a trial, and proposed to put him immediately to death, " on the principles of insurrection," because to doubt the guilt of the King would be to doubt of the innocence of the Convention; and if the King were not a traitor, the Convention must be rebels ; would my learned friend have had an English writer state all this with " decorum and moderation ?" Would he have had an Eng- lish writer state, that though this reasoning was not perfectly agreeable to our national laws, or perhaps to our national prejudices, yet it was not for him to make any observations on the judicial proceedings of foreign States ? When Marat, in the same Convention, called for two hundred and, seventy thousand heads, must our English writers have said that the remedy did, indeed, seem to their weak judg- ment rather severe, but that it was not for them to judge the conduct of so illustrious an assembly as the National Convention, or the suggestions of so enlightened a statesman as M. Marat? s^'When that Convention resounded with ap- plause at the news of several hundred aged priests being thrown into the Loirefiand parti- cularly at the exclamation of Carrier, who communicated the intelligence, " What a revo- lutionary torrent is the Loire ! " when these suggestions and narrations of murder, which had hitherto been only hinted and whispered in the most secret cabals, in the darkest caverns of banditti, were triumphantly uttered, patiently endured, and even loudly applauded by an assembly of seven hundred men, acting in the sight of all Europe^ would my learned friend have wished that there had been found in England a single writer so base as to deliberate upon the most safe, decorous, and polite manner of relating all these things to his countrymen ? When Carrier ordered five hundred children under fourteen years of age to be shot, the greater part of whom escaped the fire from their size ; when the poor victims ran for protection to the soldiers, and were bayoneted clinging round their knees ! would my friend but I cannot pursue the strain of interrogation. It is too much. It would be a violence which I cannot THE ORATOR. 51 practise on my own feelings. It would be an outrage to my friend. It would be an insult to humanity. ISTo ! Better, ten thousand times better, would it be that every press in the world were burnt, that the very use of letters were abolished, that we were returned to the honest ignorance of the rudest times, than that the results of civilization should be made subservient to the purposes of barbarism,(fhan that litera- ture should be employed to teach a toleration for cruelty, to weaken moral hatred for guilt, to deprave and brutalize the human mind. I know that I speak my friend's feelings as well as my own when I say. God forbid that the ij */ ' dread of any punishment should ever make any Englishman an accomplice in so corrupting his countrymen a public teacher of depravity and barbarity l\ Mortifying and horrible as the idea is, I must remind you, gentlemen, that even at that time, ^ven under the reign of Robespierre, my learned friend, if he had then been Attorney-General, might have been compelled, by some most deplorable necessity, to have come into this court to ask your verdict against the libellers of Barrere and Collot d'Herbois. M. Peltier then employed his talents against the enemies of the human race, as he has uniformly and bravely done. I do not believe that any peace, any political considerations, any fear of punishment, would have silenced him. He has shown too much honour, and constancy, and intrepidity, to be shaken by such circumstances as these-j My learned friend might then have been compelled to have filed a criminal information against M. Peltier, for "wickedly and mali- ciously intending to vilify and degrade Maxi- milian Robespierre, President of the Committee of Public Safety of the French Republic ! " (He might have been reduced to the sad neces- sity of appearing before you to belie his own better feelings ; to prosecute M. Peltier for publishing those sentiments which my friend himself had a thousand times felt, and a thousand times expressed. He might have been obliged even to call for punishment upon M. Peltier for language which he and all mankind would for ever despise M. Peltier if he were not to employ.^ Then indeed, gentlemen, we should have seeffthe last humiliation fall on England ; the tribunals, the spotless and venerable tribu- nals of this free country, reduced to be the ministers of the vengeance of Robespierre ! "What could have rescued us from this last disgrace ? The honesty and courage of a jury. They would have delivered the judges of this country from the dire necessity of inflicting punishment on a brave and virtuous man, because he spoke truth of a monster. They would have despised the threats of a foreign tyrant, as their ancestors braved the power of oppression at home. In the court where we are now met, Crom- well twice sent a satirist on his tyranny to be convicted and punished as a libeller, and in this court, almost in sight of the scaffold streaming with the blood of his sovereign^wlthin healing of the clash of his bayonets which drove out Parliament with contumelyj two successive juries rescued the intrepid satirist * from his fangs, and sent out with defeat and disgrace the usurper's attorney-general from what he had the insolence to call his court ! Even then, gentlemen, when all law and liberty were trampled under the feet of a military banditti ; {"when those great crimes were perpetrated on a high place and with a high hand against those who were the objects of public veneration, which more than anything else break their spirits and confound their moral sentiments, obliterate the distinctions between right and wrong in their understanding, and teach the multitude to feel no longer any reverence for that justice which they thus see triumphantly dragged at the chariot wheels of a tyrant ; even then, when this unhappy country, triumphant indeed abroad, but enslaved at home, had no prospect but that of a long succession of tyrants wading through slaughter to a throne/ even then, I say, when all seemed lost, the unconquerable spirit of English liberty survived in the hearts of English juror s./'That spirit is, I trust in God, not extinct ; and if any modern tyrant were, in the drunkenness of his inso- lence, to hope to overawe an English jury, I trust and I believe that they would tell him, " Our ancestors braved the bayonets of Crom- well ; we bid defiance to yours. Contempsl Catalince gladios non pertimescam tuos ? " "What could be such a tyrant's means of overawing a jury ? As long as their country exists they are girt round with impenetrable armour. Till the destruction of their country no danger can fall upon them for the perform- ance of their duty, and I do trust that there is no Englishman so unworthy of life as to desire to outlive England. But if any of us are condemned to the cruel punishment of sur- viving our country if, in the inscrutable counsels of Providence, this favoured seat of justice and liberty this noblest work of human wisdom and virtue be destined to destruction, which I shall not be charged with national prejudice for saying would be the most dan- gerous wound ever inflicted on civilization ; at least let us carry with us into our sad exile the consolation that we ourselves have not violated the rights of hospitality to exiles that we have not torn from the altar the suppliant who claimed protection as the voluntary victim of loyalty and conscience^-'' * Lilburne. THE OEATOK. W. E. GLADSTONE. Born 1809. [THE following speech, printed by permission of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, from the speech as cor- rected and published by him, is too fresh in the memory of our readers to need comment ; but, for the satisfaction of those who we trust will read THE ORATOR in days to come, we give the following information. This speech was delivered by the Right Honourable W. E. Gladstone, when Chancellor of the Exchequer, on May llth, 1864, in the debate on Mr. Baines' proposed Bill for the Extension of the Suffrage in Towns, and created considerable sensation, as it was thought to express more advanced principles on the subject of "reform than those hitherto ascribed to Mr. Gladstone.] EXTENSION OF THE SUFFRAGE. I MUST begin, Sir, by observing, that the speech of the honourable gentleman oppo- site (Mr. Cave), in my opinion, went far beyond the scope of the motion which he has submitted to the House. For it was really a speech against all extension of the franchise in the direction of the working classes, and it did not refer merely to the subject of that particular franchise, which we have to adopt or reject in connection with the present Bill. However, it may be said with truth, that it is not the speech in question, but the motion of my lion, friend on the one side, and the amendment of the hon. member opposite on the other, with which we have principally to deal. Let us, then, consider what is the practical issue raised for our present decision. Thei'e are two points bearing upon this question, the one a matter of fact, and the other a matter of judgment, upon which it may be reasonably supposed there will be a general concurrence of opinion. With regard to the matter of fact, there is no doubt that those who sit on the other side may be said to be unanimous in deprecating at the present time and certainly, as far as the argument of the honourable gentlemen, and the reception of that argument, afforded an indication, at any time the extension of the franchise. I do not attempt to conceal or deny, on the other hand, that the other great party in the country is not unanimous on the subject. No small number of those who profess liberal opinions are indif- ferent, some may be even averse, to any change such as is proposed by the Bill, from a ten pound to a six pound franchise in towns. The second point, upon which I think all parties are agreed, is this : that at the present period, and in a state of opinion such as now subsists, it would not be advisable, I might even say it would not be justifiable, for the Government of the Queen, however it might be composed, to submit a measure on this subject to Parliament. Under these circumstances, and with these admissions freely made, the question we have before us for to-day is this : What course ought we to take on the motion of my honourable friend, having regard to the amendment which has been moved in favour of postponement ? My honourable friend, without communication with the Government, and acting, as far as I am aware, entirely in the exercise of his own discretion, has brought his proposal before us as a subject for discussion. I treat this, without praise or censure, merely as a fact. And now I admit it may be said that the motion of the honourable gentleman opposite, which is a motion for time, does, in fact, no more than embody the admissions I have myself made, namely, that this is not a period for a Govern- ment to deal with this question, and that even the party which represents the liberal opinions of the countiy is not unanimous on the subject. Why, then, do I vote against the honourable gentleman's motion ? It is because, even when taken apart from his speech, although much more if taken in connection with the speech, it appears to me to support, to justify, and to confirm a state of facts and opinions which I deeply deprecate and deplore. Admitting the existence of those opinions within the limits I have described and it is useless to shut our eyes to their existence I must say that I deeply deplore them. I will not go the whole length of my hon. friend in respect to the precise terms he used as to the broken pledges of Governments and parties ; but I will not scruple to admit that, at least as it appears to me, so much of our Parliamentary history during the last thirteen years I mean during the years since the vote 011 Mr. Locke King's Bill in 1851 as touches Parliamentary Reform, is a most unsatisfactory chapter in that history, and has added nothing to the honour of Parlia- ment, or to the safety and well-being of the countiy. Now I cannot expect any sudden change for the better as likely to arise from any debate or decision on the present Bill. Yet I am convinced that the discussion of the question in the House of Commons must, through the gentle process by which Parlia- mentary debates act on the public mind, gradually help to bring home the conviction that we have not been so keenly alive to our duties in this matter as we ought to have been ; that it is for the interests of the country that this matter should be entertained ; and that it ought, if we are wise, to be brought to an early settlement. The conditions requisite for dealing with it can only be supplied by a favourable state of the public mind ; but the public mind is itself guided, and opinion modified, in no small degree, by the debates of Parliament. One especial advantage attends to-day the discussion of this question, that, at present, at all events, it is not to be held strictly a party question. I am afraid, indeed, if I take as a criterion the cheers with which the speech of the hon. gentleman opposite was received, and THE OEATOE. 53 the quarter from which they proceeded, that the time may come when this may, and will, once more become a party question. For the present, however, we may discuss it without exclusive reference to party associations ; and I may take the opportunity of saying that for this reason I am glad though for others I am not so that my honourable friend the member for Salisbury * has stepped into the arena on this occasion ; because the circumstance enables us the more easily to find our way into the discussion of the question without the appre- hension that we are irritating and exciting those passions and party sentiments, which necessarily enter into our debates when party interests are concerned, and which might help to obscure the true merits of the case. I will address myself, then, to the question actually before us, admitting again that if I deeply deplore the state of opinion opposite, I am far from being satisfied with the state of opinion on this side of the House. My honourable friend the member for Salis- bury appears to think that he has made out his case when he has advanced three propositions : one of them, that nobody desires, nobody peti- tions for, the Bill; the next, that to propose the extension of the franchise downwards is to propose also the encouragement of bribery; and the third, that the working classes have their interests well attended to by the House of Commons as it is at present constituted. Now, sir, I decline altogether to follow my honour- able friend into an. argument upon the question whether or not the extension of the franchise downwards would really lead to the encourage- ment of bribery. I would simply record my emphatic dissent from that statement. Again, with respect to the allegation that the working- classes have their interests well cared for by this House, far be it from me to deny that this House has a strong feeling of sympathy with the working classes ; but permit me to say that that sympathy is not the least strongly felt, and that its practical exhibition has certainly not been least remarkable, among those also who are the immediate promoters and sup- porters of this Bill. And next I come to the assertion that nobody desires a measure of this sort. But before otherwise dealing with this assertion, I want to know where, in a discussion such as is now before us, lies the burden of proof? Is the onus prolandi upon those who maintain that the present state of the repre- sentation ought not to be touched, or upon those who say it ought to be amended ? The honourable member for Shorehamf says the case of the British constitution, after a Bill of this sort, will be like the case of the man over whom was written the epitaph, " I was well ; ;; Mr. Marsh. t Mr. Cave. I would be better ; here I am ; " and he told us again that to venture on a change such as is presented in this Bill was to enter on a " domestic revolution." Sir, I entirely depre- cate the application, of language of such a kind to the present Bill. I will not now enter into the question whether the precise form of fran- chise, and the precise figure, which my hon. friend has indicated, may or may not be that which, upon full deliberation, we ought to choose ; I will not now inquire whether the franchise should be founded on rate-paying or on occupation ; neither will I consider whether or not there should be a lodger's franchise ; I- put aside every question except the veiy simple one which I take to be at issue, and on this I will endeavour not to be misunderstood. I apprehend my honourable friend's Bill to mean (and if such be the meaning I give my cordial concurrence to the proposition), that there ought to be, not a wholesale, nor an excessive, but a sensible and considerable addition to that portion of the working classes at present almost infinitesimal which is in possession of the franchise. Now, sir, if I am asked what I mean by a " sensible and considerable addition," I reply that I mean such an addition as I think, and as we at the time contended in argument,* would have been made by the Bill which the present Government submitted to the House in 1860. Does then the onus of proof that there is a necessity for such a measure lie with us ? Has the honourable member wholly forgotten, or does he set wholly at nought, all the formal and solemn declarations of the years from 1851 to 1860? What, again, is the present state of the constituency, any departure from which the hon. gentleman deprecates and stigmatises as a " domestic revolution ? " At present we have, speaking generally, a consti- tuency of which between one-tenth and one- twentieth certainly less than one-tenth con- sists of working men. And what proportion does that fraction of the working classes, who are in possession of the franchise, bear to the whole body of the working classes ? I appre- hend I am correct in saying that those who possess the franchise are less than one-fiftieth * " You have got already a borough constituency of 450,000 : you are going to add 150,000, or at the most extravagant estimate 200,000 The labouring classes might be 200,000 in a borough constituency of 650,000 : that is, they would be less than one-third of the whole borough constituency, and only in about one- half of the boroughs, or one-third part of the seats, returning members for England and Wales, would thus amount to such numbers as to act with any sensible or appreciable force. Now, sir, is that the lion's share ? and does that justify the appeals which have been made, and the lecture wo have received to-night on American institutions ? "Speech of the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the Bill for Amending the Repre- sentation of the People, May 3, I860. THE OEATOE. of the whole number of the working classes. Is that a state of things which we cannot ven- ture to touch or modify ? Is there no choice between excluding forty -nine out of every fifty working men on the one hand, and on the other " a domestic revolution P " I contend, then, that it is on the honourable gentleman that the burden of proof must be held principally to lie ; that it is on those who say it is necessary to exclude forty -nine-fiftieths that the burden of proof rests ; that it is for them to show the un worthiness, the incapacity, and the misconduct of the working classes, in order to make good their argument that no larger portion of them than this should be admitted to the suffrage. (Oh, oh !) I am sorry to find that it is any- where thought necessary to treat this question by what, perhaps, to use a mild phrase, I may call .".inarticulate reasoning ;" and I will endea- vour not to provoke more of it from a certain quarter of the House than I can help. But it is an opinion which I entertain that if forty- nine-fiftieths of the working classes are to be excluded from the franchise, it is certainly with those who maintain that exclusion that it rests to show its necessity. On the other hand, my hon. friend indicates that kind of extension of the suffrage which would make the working classes a sensible fraction of the borough constituency ; an important fraction, but still a decided minority as compared with the other portion of it. That is the proposi- tion which we have before us for our present consideration. ' We are told that the working classes do not agitate for an extension of the franchise ; but is it desirable that we should wait until they do agitate ? In my opinion, agitation by the working classes, upon any political subject whatever, is a thing not to be waited for, not to be made a condition previous to any Parlia- mentary movement ; but, on the contrary, it is a thing to be deprecated, and, if possible, anti- cipated and prevented by wise and provident measures. An agitation by the working classes is not like an agitation by the classes above them, the classes possessed of leisure. The agitation of the classes having leisure is easily conducted. It is not with them that every hour of time has a money value ; their wives and children are not dependent on the strictly reckoned results of those hours of labour. When a working man finds himself in such a condition that he must abandon that daily labour on which he is strictly dependent for his daily bread, when he gives up the profitable application of his time, it is then that, in rail- way language, " the danger signal is turned on ; " for he does it only because he feels a strong necessity for action, and a distrust in the rulers who, as he thinks, have driven him to that necessity. The present state of things, I rejoice to say, does not indicate that distrust ; but if we aimit this as matter of fact, we must not along with the admission allege the absence of agitation on the part of the working classes as a sufficient reason why the Parliament of England, and the public mind of England, should be indisposed to entertain the discussion of this question. I may presume, sir, to mention that I happen to have had a recent opportunity of obtaining some information respecting the views of the working classes on this subject. It arose incidentally ; but I thought it worth attention at the time, and I still think it may be worth the attention of the House. It was in connection with the discussions on the Government Annuities Bill, when a deputation, representing the most extensive among all the existing combinations of the working classes of Liverpool, came to me, and expressed their own sentiments and those of their fellows with respect to that Bill. Mr. HORSFALL. It was not a deputation from Liverpool, but from London. The CHANCELLOR OF THE EXCHEQUER. I am not aware of having said Liverpool. (Yes, yes.) I beg pardon, then, I meant London ; and I thank my honourable friend for the correction he has supplied, as it enables me to report the views of a body of men perhaps some six or eight times larger than any corresponding body in Liverpool. After disavowing opposition to that measure, they proceeded to hold language such as this : " If there has been any suspi- cion or disinclination to this Bill on the part of the working classes, it is owing in a great mea- sure to their dissatisfaction with the conduct of Parliament during recent years in reference to the extension of the suffrage." Part of my answer to them was, " If you complain of the conduct of Parliament, depend upon it the con- duct of Parliament has been connected in no small degree with the apparent inaction, and alleged indifference, of the working classes themselves with respect to the suffrage." The reply which they then returned was one which made a deep impression on my mind. They used language to the following effect : " It is true that, since the abolition of the corn-laws, we have given up political agitation ; we have begun from that time to feel that we might place confidence in Parliament ; that we might look to Parliament to pass beneficial measures without agitation. We were told then to abandon those habits of political action which had so much interfered with the ordinary occu- pations of our lives ; and we have endeavoured to substitute for them the employment of our evenings in the improvement of our minds." I do not hesitate to confess that I was greatly struck by that answer. And, after hearing it, I for one am more than ever unable to turn THE ORATOR, round on the working classes, and say that it is plain they do not care for the extension of the franchise, because they do not agitate in order to obtain it. The objection made by the honourable gen- tleman opposite and by many others is, that the working classes, if admitted even in limited numbers, or at all events so as to form any considerable proportion of a constituency, will go together as a class, and wholly separate themselves from other classes. I do not wish to use harsh language, and therefore I will not say that that is a libel ; but I believe it to be a statement altogether unjustified by reference to facts. It is not a fact, as I believe, that the working men, who are now invested with the franchise, act together as a class ; and there is not the slightest reason to suppose that they would so act together if there were a moderate and fair extension of the suffrage. If, indeed, we were to adopt a sudden and sweeping mea- sure, a measure which might deserve the epithet of revolutionary ; if we were to do any- thing which would give a monopoly of power to the working classes ; if, for example, instead of adopting a measure which would raise the pro- portion of working men in the town constitu- encies to one-third, you gave the franchise to two-thirds, there would be some colour for the anticipation, and some justification for the lan- guage so lightly used; there might then be some temptation to set up class interests on the part of those who might thus have the means of obtaining, or at least a temptation to grasp at, a monopoly of power, and it would, under these circumstances, be for us to show, if we could, that no danger would arise. But I appeal to the evidence of all who know any- thing of the facts, to say whether we have not seen the working classes, in places where they possessed the franchise, instead of being dis- posed to go together as a class, rather inclined, as a general rule, and under all ordinary cir- cumstances, to follow their superiors, to confide in them, to trust them, and to hold them in high esteem. Their landlords in the country, their employers in the town, their neighbours, and those whose personal characters they respect these are the men whom the working classes commonly elect to follow ; and, for my part, I believe, if there is anything which will induce them to alter their conduct, and to make it their rule to band together as a class, it will be resentment at exclusion, and a sense of injustice. Whatever tends to denote them as persons open to the influence of bribery as persons whose admission within the pale of the constitution constitutes " a domestic revolu- tion," whatever tends to mark them as un- worthy of confidence and respect, is calculated to drive them back to the use of their natural means of self-defence, and might, possibly, in times and circumstances which we can con- ceive, become the motive cause of an union among the working classes, which would be adverse to other classes of the community. It would, sir, be worse than idle, after the able and luminous speech of my honourable friend (Mr. Baines) to detain the House with the statistics of the question. But I take my stand, in the first place, on a great legislative fact : on the Keform Bill of 1832. Before 1832 the epoch of the Reform Act although the working classes were not supposed to be repre- sented in this House, yet we had among the constituencies some of an important character which were in an entirely preponderating pro- . portion working-class constituencies. I myself was elected by a scot and lot borough, the borough of Newark. At the time that I was first returned for that borough, in December, 1832, the constituency was close upon 1,600. That same constituency is now a little more than 700 ; nor has it yet, I believe, reached its minimum ; in fact, it is in progress of regular decay, until it reaches the limit fixed by the number of ten pound houses. That borough was enfranchised in the time of Charles II., when the Crown did not fear to issue writs calling for the return, in certain cases, of mem- bers by constituencies that consisted of all inhabitants who paid scot and lot. But, since the Act of 1832, there has been a large deduc- tion made from the number of working men in the possession of the franchise by the changes which have taken place in the condition of the boroughs called pot-walloping boroughs, scot and lot boroughs, and by other denominations. I greatly doubt whether, even after making fair allowance for the bettered circumstances of working men, as large a proportion of the entire body hold the suffrage now as held it in December, 1832. If that is so, is it fair and proper that, in the thirty -two years which have since elapsed, a reduction should have taken place in the proportion which they bear to the rest of the constituency ? Have their condition and character retrograded in a manner to justify this retrogression of numbers ? Have they no claims to an extension of the suffrage ? I think the facts are clear, and I think my honourable friend has shown that a great por- tion of the facts are reducible to figures, and are capable of being represented in a form and with a force almost mathematical, with refer- ence to education and to the state of the press. Let me, then, refer to one or two points which are not reducible to figures. We are told, for instance, that the working classes are given to the practice of strikes. I believe it is the expe- rience of the employers of labour that these strikes are more and more losing the character of violence and compulsory interference with the free will of their own comrades and fellow- 56 THE ORATOR, workmen, and are assuming that legal and, under certain circumstances, legitimate cha- racter, which they possess as the only means by which, in the last resort, labour can fairly assert itself against capital in the peaceful strife of the labour market. Let us take, too, that which in former times I believe to have been the besetting sin of labour, the disposi- tion of the majority not to recognize the right of the minority, and, indeed, of every single individual, to sell his labour for what he thinks fit. On behalf of the labouring classes I must, in passing, say that this doctrine is much harder for them to practise than for us to preach. In our condition of life and feeling, we have nothing analogous to that which the \vorking man cannot but feel when he sees his labopr being, as he thinks, undersold. Yet still it' is our duty to assert in the most rigid terms, and to carry high the doctrine of the right of every labouring man, whether with or against the approval of his class, to sell his labour as high or as low as he pleases. But with respect to this point, which has certainly been in other times, and which I fear still is in certain cases, a point of weakness, I appeal to those who have experience of the working classes, whether there is not reason to believe that the progress of knowledge, and the expe- rience of good government, and the designs of philanthropy and religion, have borne their fruit? Has not the time come when large portions, at the least, of working men admit the right of freedom of labour, as fully as it could possibly be asserted in this House ? Again, sir, let us look for a few moments at the altered, the happily altered, relations of the working classes to the government, the laws, the institutions, and, above all, to the throne of this country. Let us go back it is no long period in the history of a nation io an epoch not very many years before the passing of the Reform Bill, and consider what was the state of things at a time when many of us were unborn, and when most of us were children I mean, to the years which immediately succeeded the peace of 1815. We all know the history of those times; most of us recollect the atmo- sphere and the ideas under the influence of which we were brought up. They were not ideas which belonged to the old current of English history ; nor were they in conformity with the liberal sentiments which pervaded, at its best periods, the politics of the country, and which harmonised with the spirit of the old British Constitution. They were, on the contrary, ideas referable to those lamentable excesses of the first French Revolution, which produced here a terrible reaction, and went far to estab- lish the doctrine that the masses of every com- munity were in permanent antagonism with the laws under which they lived, and were dis- posed to regard those laws, and the persons by whom the laws were made and administered, as their natural enemies. Unhappily, there are but too many indications to prove that this is no vague or imaginary description. The time to which I now refer was a time when deficiencies in the harvest were followed by riots, and when rioters did not hold sacred even the person of Majesty itself. In 1817, when the Prince Regent came down to open Parlia- ment, his carnage was assailed by the populace of London : and what was the remedy provided for this state of things ? Why, the remedy was sought in the siispension of the Habeas Corpus Act; or in the limitation of the action of the press, already restricted ; or in the em- ployment of spies, and the deliberate defence of their employment, who, for the supposed secu- rity of the Government, were sent throughoiit the country to dog the course of private life, and to arrest persons, or to check them, in the formation of conspiracies real or supposed. And what, let me ask. is the state of things now ? With truth, sir, it may be said that the epoch I have named, removed from us, in mere chrono- logical reckoning, by less than half a century, is in the political sphere separated from us by a distance almost immeasurable. For now it may be fearlessly asserted that the fixed tra- ditional sentiment of the working man has begun to be confidence in the law, in Parlia- ment, and even in the executive Government. Of this gratifying state of things it fell to my lot to receive a single, indeed, but a significant proof no later than yesterday. (Cries of " No, no," and laughter.) The quick-witted character of hon. gentlemen opposite outstrips, I am afraid, the tardy movement of my observations. Let them only have a very little patience, and they will, I believe, see cause for listening to what I shall say.* I was about to proceed to say, in illustration of my argument, that only yesterday I had the satisfaction of receiving a deputation of working men from the Society of Amalgamated Engineers. That society con- sists of very large numbers of highly-skilled workmen, and has two hundred and sixty branches ; it is a society representing the very class in which we should most be inclined to look for a spirit of even jealous independence of all direct relations with the Government. But the deputation came to state to me that the society had large balances of money open for investment, and that many of its members could not feel satisfied unless they were allowed to place their funds in the hands of the Go- vernment, by means of a modification in the rules of the Post-office Savings-banks. K"ow, * The interruption was understood to refer to another deputation received on the same day, with reference to tho subject of the departure of General Garibaldi. THE ORATOR. that, I think I may say, without being liable to any expression of adverse feeling on the part of honourable gentlemen opposite, was a very small but yet significant indication, among thousands of others, of the altered temper to which I have referred. Instead, however, of uttering on the point my own opinions, I should like to use the words of the working classes themselves. In an address which, in company with my right honourable friend the member for Staffordshire, I heard read at a meeting which was held in the Potteries last autumn, they say, of their own spontaneous motion, uninfluenced by the action of their employers, in relation to the legislation of late years : " The great measures that have been passed during the last twenty years by the British Legislature have conferred incalculable blessings on the whole community, and particularly on the working classes, by unfettering the trade and commerce of the country, cheapening the essentials of our daily sustenance, placing a large proportion of the comforts and luxuries of life within our reach, and rendering the obtain- ment of knowledge comparatively easy among the great mass of the sons of toil." And this is the mode in which they then pro- ceed to describe their view of the conduct of the upper classes towards them : " Pardon us for alluding to the kindly con- duct now so commonly evinced by the wealthier portions of the community to assist in the plvysical and moral improvement of the work- ing classes. The well-being of the toiling mass is now generally admitted to be an essential to the national weal. This forms a pleasing con- trast to the opinions cherished half a century ago. The humbler classes also are duly mind- ful of the happy change, and, without any abatement of manly independence, fully appre- ciate the benefits resulting therefrom, con- tentedly fostering a hopeful expectation of the future. May Heaven favour and promote this happy mutuality ! as we feel confident that all such kindly interchange materially contributes to the general good." Now, such language does, in my opinion, the greatest credit to the parties from whom it proceeds. This is a point on which no differ- ence of opinion can prevail. I think I may go a step ftrrther, and consider these statements as indicating not only the sentiments of a parti- cular body at the particular place from which they proceeded, but the general sentiments of the best-conducted and most enlightened work- ing men of the countiy. It may, however, be said that such statements prove the existing state of things to be satisfactory. But surely this is no sufficient answer. Is it right, I ask, that in the face of such dispositions, the present law of almost entire exclusion should continue to prevail ? Again I call upon the adversary NO. vn r. to show cause. And I venture to say that every man who is not presumably incapacitated by some consideration of personal unfitness or of political danger is morally entitled to come within the pale of the Constitution. Of course, in giving utterance to such a proposition, I do not recede from the protest I have previously made against sudden, or violent, or excessive, or intoxicating change ; but I apply it with confidence to this effect, that fitness for the franchise, when it is shown to exist as I say it is shown to exist in the case of a select por- tion of the working class is not repelled on sufficient grounds from the portals of the Con- stitution by the allegation that things are well as they are. I contend, moreover, that persons who have prompted the expression of such sen- timents as those to which I have referred, and whom I know to have been members of the working class, are to be presumed worthy and fit to discharge the duties of citizenship, and that to admission to the discharge of those duties they are well and justly entitled. The present franchise, I may add, on the whole subject, of course, to some exceptions draws the line between the lower middle class and the upper order of the working class. As a general rule, the lower stratum of the middle class is admitted to the exercise of the fran- chise, while the upper stratum of the working class is excluded. That I believe to be a fair general description of the present formation of the constituencies in boroughs and towns. Is it a state of things, I would ask, recommended by clear principles of reason? Is the upper portion of the working classes inferior to the lowest portion of the middle ? That is a ques- tion I should wish to be considered on both sides of the House. For my own part, it appears to me that the negative of the propo- sition may be held with the greatest confidence. Whenever this question comes to be discussed, with the view to an immediate issue, the con- duct of the general body of the operatives of Lancashire cannot be forgotten. What are the qualities which fit a man for the exercise of a privilege such as the franchise P Self-com- mand, self-control, respect for order, patience under suffering, confidence in the law, regard for superiors ; and when, I should like to ask, were all these great qualities exhibited in a manner more signal, I would even say more illustrious, than under the profound affliction of the winter of 1862? I admit the danger of dealing with enormous masses of men ; but I am now speaking only of a limited portion of the working class, and I for one cannot admit that there is that special virtue in the nature of the middle class which ought to lead to our drawing a marked distinction, a distinction almost purporting to be one of principle, between them and a select portion of the working E 2 58 THE OEATOE. classes, BO far as relates to the exercise of the franchise. But, sir, this question has received a very remarkable illustration from the experience of the last few years. So far as Lancashire is concerned, we have the most extraordinary evidence evidence amounting almost to mathe- matical demonstration of the competency of the working man to discharge those duties of retail trade and the distribution of commodities, which are commonly intrusted to the lower part of the middle class. I allude to the evidence afforded by the marvellous success in that par- ticular county (and I hope the example of that county may not be too eagerly followed else- where) of the co-operative system. For my own part, I am not ashamed to say that, if twenty or ten years ago anybody had pro- phesied to me the success of that system, as it has, repently been exhibited in Rochdale and other towns in the north if I had been told that labouring men would so associate together with mutual advantage, to the exclusion of the retail dealer, who comes between the producer and the consumer of commodities, I should have regarded the prediction as absurd. There is, in my opinion, no greater social marvel at the present day than the manner in which these societies flourish in Lancashire, combined with a consideration of the apparent soundness of the financial basis on which they are built ; for the bodies of men who have had recourse to the co-operative system have been, as it would appear, those who have, stood out with the most manly resolution against the storms of adver- sity, who have been the last to throw them- selves on the charity of their neighbours, and who have proved themselves to be best qualified for the discharge of the duties of independent citizens. And when we have before us con- siderable numbers of men answering to this description, it is, I think, well worth our while to consider what is the title which they advance to the generous notice of Parliament in regard to their appeal to be admitted, in such measure as may upon consideration seem fit, to the exercise of the franchise. I, for myself, confess that I think the investigation will be far better conducted if we approach the question at an early date, in a calm frame of mind, and with- out having our doors besieged by crowds, or our table loaded with petitions, rather than if we postpone entering upon it until a great agita- tion has arisen. And now, sir, one word in conclusion. I believe that it has been given to us of this generation to witness, advancing as it were under our very eyes from day to day, the most blessed of all social processes ; I mean the pro- cess which unites together not the interests only but the feelings of all the several classes of the community, and which throws back into the shadows of oblivion those discords by which they were kept apart from one another. I know of nothing which can contribute, in any degree comparable to that union, to the welfare of the commonweath. It is well, sir, that we should be suitably provided with armies, and fleets, and fortifications ; it is well too that all these should rest upon and be sustained, as they ought to be, by a sound system of finance, and out of a revenue not wasted by a careless Par- liament, or by a profligate Administration. But that which is better and more weighty still is that hearts should be bound together by a reasonable extension, at fitting times, and among selected portions of the people, of evciy benefit and every privilege that can justly be conferred upon them ; and, for one, I am pre- pared to give my support to the motion now made by my honourable friend (Mr. Baines), because I believe and am persuaded that it will powerfully tend to that binding and blending and knitting of hearts together, and thus to the infusion of new vigour into the old, but in the best sense still young, and flourishing and undecaying British Constitution. WILLIAM PITT. Born 1759. Died 1806. THE SLAVE TRADE. SIR, I lament that my efforts on this sub- ject have hitherto not been successful, but I am consoled with the thought that the House has come to a resolution declarative of the infamy of this trade : that all parties have con- curred in reprobating it : that even its advo- cates have been compelled to acknowledge its infamy. The question now is only the con- tinuance of this abominable traffic, which even its friends think so intolerable that it ought to be crushed. Jamaica has imported 150,000 negroes in the course of twenty years, and this is admitted to be only one-tenth of the trade. Was there ever, can there be, anything beyond the enormity of this infamous traffic P The very thought of it is beyond human endurance. It is allowed, however, that the trade is in- famous, but the abolition of it is resolvable to a question of expediency; and then, when the trade is argued as a commercial case, its advo- cates, in order to continue it, desert even the principles of commerce. So that a traffic in the liberty, the blood, the life, of human beings, is not to have even the advantages of the com- mon rales of arithmetic which govern all other commercial dealings ! The point now in dispute is only one year, as I understand ; for the amendment proposes the year 1795 for the abolition, while the year 1796 is only contended for on the other side. As to those who are concerned in the trade, a THE OBATOE. year would not make much difference ; but doea it make no alteration to the unhappy slaves? It is true, that, in the course of commercial concerns in general, it is said sometimes to be beneath the magnanimity of a man of honour to insist on a scrupulous exactness in his own favour upon a disputed item in accounts ; but does it make any part of our magnanimity to be exact in our own favour in the traffic of human blood? When a man gives up 500 or 1,000 against himself, upon a complicated reckoning, he is called generous ; and when he insists on it in his own favour, he is deemed niggardly : the common course, when parties disagree, is what the vulgar phrase calls, "to split the difference." If I could feel that I am to cal- culate upon the subject in this way, the side on which I should determine it would be in favour of the unhappy sufferers, not of those who oppress them. But this one year is only to show the planters that Parliament is willing to be liberal to them. Sir, I do not understand complimenting away the lives of so many human beings. I do not understand the prin- ciple on which a few individuals are to be com- plimented, and their minds set at rest, at the expense and total sacrifice of the interest, the security, the happiness, of a whole quarter of the world, which, from our foul practices, has for a vast length of time been a scene of misery and horror. I say, because I feel, that every hour you continue this trade you are guilty of an offence beyond your power to atone for ; and, by your indulgence to the planters, thou- sands of human beings are to be miserable for ever. Notwithstanding the bill passed for regulating the middle passage, even now the loss of the trade is no less than ten per cent. ; such is still the mortality of this deleterious traffic ! Every year in which you continue this abominable trade, you add thousands to the catalogue of miserable beings, which, if you could behold in a single instance, you would revolt with horror from the scene ; but the size of the misery prevents you from beholding it. Five hundred out of one thousand that are taken in this traffic perish in this scene of horror ; are miserable victims brought to their graves : this is the effect of this system of slavery. The remaining part of this miserable group are tainted both in body and in mind, covered with disease and infection, infecting the very earth on which they tread, and the air in which they breathe, carrying with them the seeds of pestilence and insurrection to your island. Let me, then, ask, if I am improperly pressing upon the House a question, whether they can derive any advantage from these doubtful effects of a calculation on the continu- ance of the traffic; and whether they think that two will not b better than three years, for its continuance ? I feel the infamy of the trade so heavily, the impolicy of it so clearly, that I am ashamed I have not been able to persuade the House to abandon it altogether at an instant, to pronounce with one voice its immediate and total abolition. There is no excuse for us, seeing this infernal traffic as we do. It is the very death of justice to utter a syllable in support of it. Sir, I know I state this subject with warmth : I feel it is impossible for me not to do so ; or, if it were, I should detest myself for the exercise of moderation. I cannot, without suffering every feeling and every passion that ought to rise in the cause of humanity to sleep within me, speak coolly on such a subject. Did they feel as I think they \ ought, I am sure the decision of the House would be with us, for a total and immediate abolition of this abominable traffic. Why ought the slave trade to be abolished ? Because it is incurable injustice. How much stronger, then, is the argument for immediate than gradual abolition ? By allowing it to continue even for one hour, do not my right honourable friends weaken do not they desert their own argument of its injustice ? If, on the ground of injustice, it ought to be abolished at last, why ought it not now ? Why is injustice to be suffered to remain for a single hour? From what I hear without doors, it is evident that there is a general conviction entertained of its being far from just ; and from that veiy conviction of its injustice, some men have been led, I fear, to the supposition, that the slave trade never could have been permitted to begin, but from some strong and irresistible necessity : a necessity, however, which, if it was fancied to exist at first, I have shown cannot be thought by any [ man whatever to exist now. This plea of neces- sity, thus presumed and presumed, as I suspect, from the circumstance of injustice itself has caused a sort of acquiescence in the continuance of this evil. Men have been led to place it among the rank of those necessary evils which are supposed to be the lot of human creatures, and to be permitted to fall upon some countries or individuals rather than upon others, by that Being whose ways are inscrutable to us, and whose dispensations, it is conceived, we ought not to look into. The origin of evil is indeed a subject beyond the reach of human understand- ing, and the permission of it by the Supreme Being is a subject into which it belongs not to us to inquire. But where the evil in question is a moral evil, which a man can scrutinize, and where that evil has its origin with ourselves, let us not imagine that we can clear our consciences by this general, not to say irreligious and impious, way of laying aside the question. If we reflect at all on this subject, we must see that every necessary evil supposes that some other and greater evil would be incurred were it removed : I, therefore, desire to ask, what can be a greater 60 THE OEATOE. evil which can be stated to overbalance the one in question ? I know of no evil that ever has existed, nor can imagine any evil to exist, worse than the tearing of seventy or eighty thousand persons annually from their native land, by a combination of the most civilized nations, inhabiting the most enlightened part of the globe ; but, more especially, under the sanction of the laws of that nation which calls herself the most free and the most happy of them alL.' Reflect on these eighty thousand persons thus annually taken off! There is something in the horror of it that surpasses all the bounds of imagination. Admitting that there exists in Africa something like to courts of justice, yet, -what an office of humiliation and mean- ness it is in us, to take upon ourselves to cany into execution the partial, the cruel, iniquitous sentences of such courts, as if we also were stran- gers to all religion and to the first principles of justice ! But that country, it is said, has been in some degree civilized, and civilized by us. It is said, they have gained some knowledge of the principles of justice. What, sir ! Have they gained principles of justice from us ? Their civilization brought about by us ! Yes ; we give them enough of our intercourse to convey to them the means, and to imitate them in the study, of mutual destruction. We give them enough of the forms of justice to enable m to add the pretext of legal trials to their other modes of perpetrating the most atrocious iniquity. We give them just enough of Euro- pean improvements to enable them the more effectually to turn Africa into a ravaged wilder- ness. Some evidences say, that the Africans are addicted to the practice of gambling ; that they even sell their wives and children, and, ultimately, themselves. Are these, then, the legitimate source of slavery ? Shall we pretend, that we can thus acquire an honest right to exact the labour of these people ? Can we_j>retend, that we have a right to carry them away to distant regions, men of whom we know nothing by authentic inquiry, and of whom there is every reasonable presumption to think that those who sell them to us have no right to do so? But the evil does not stop here. I feel that there is not time for me to make all the remarks which the subject deserves, and I refrain from attempting to enumerate half the dreadful consequences of this system. CURRAN. Born 1750. Died 1817. EMPLOYMENT OF INFORMERS BY THE GOVERNMENT. THE learned gentleman is farther pleased to say, that the traverser has charged the Government with the encouragement of in- formers. This, gentlemen, is another small fact that you are to deny at the hazard of your souls, and on the solemnity of your oaths. You are, upon your oaths, to say to the sister kingdom, that the government of Ireland uses no such abominable instruments of destruction as informers. Let me ask you honestly, what do you feel, when in my hearing, when in the face of this audience, you are called upon, to give a verdict that every man of us, and every man of you, knows by the testimony of his own eyes, to be utterly and absolutely false ? I speak not now of the public proclamations of informers, with a promise of secrecy and of extravagant reward : I speak not of the fate of those horrid wretches who have been so often transferred from the table to the dock, and from the dock to the pillory : I speak of what your own eyes have seen day after day during the course of this commission, from the box where you are now sitting; the number of horrid miscreants who avowed, upon their oaths, that they had come from the very seat of Government from the castle, where they had been .worked upon by the fears of death, and the hopes of compensation, to give evi- dence against their fellows, that the mild and wholesome councils of this government are holden over these catacombs of living death, where the wretch that is buried a man, lies till his heart has time to fester and dissolve, and is then dug up a witness. Is this fancy, or is it fact ? Have you not seen him after his resurrection from that tomb after having been dug out of the region of death and corruption, make his appearance upon the table, the living image of life and of death, and the supreme arbiter of both ? Have you not marked when he entered, how the stormy wave of the multitude retired at his approach ? Have you not marked how the human heart bowed to the .supremacy of his power, in the undissembled homage of deferen- tial horror ? How his glance, like the lightning of heaven, seemed to rive the body of the accused, and mark it for the grave, while his voice warned the devoted wretch of woe and death : a death which no innocence can escape, no art elude, no force resist, no antidote pre- vent. There was an antidote a juror's oath but even that adamantine chain that bound the integrity of man to the throne of eternal justice, is solved and melted in the breath that issues from the informer's mouth ; conscience swings from her moorings, and the appalled and affrighted juror consults his own safety in the surrender of the victim. Innocence shall make false accusation Blush, and tyranny tremble at patience. THE ORATOR. 61 LORD MACAULAY. Born 1800. Died 1859. [EXTRACT from his Inaugural Address to the Students of the University of Glasgow, on his election as Lord Rector, 21st March, 1849.J HISTORICAL REVIEW OF THE UNIVERSITY or GLASGOW. LOOK at the world a hundred years after the seal of Pope Nicholas the Fifth had been affixed to the instrument which called your College into existence. We find Europe, we find Scotland especially, in the agonies of that revolution which we emphatically call the Reformation. The liberal patronage which Nicholas, and men like Nicholas, had given to learning, and of which the establishment of this seat of learning is not the least remark- able instance, had produced an effect which they had never contemplated. Ignorance was tlie_talisman on which their power depended, and that talisman they had themselves broken. They had called in knowledge as a handmaid to decorate superstition, and their error pro- duced its natural effect. I need not tell you what a part the votaries of classical learning, and especially the votaries of Greek learning, the Humanists, as they were then called, bore in the great movement against spiritual tyranny. They formed, in fact, the vanguard of that movement. Every one of the chief Reformers I do not at this moment remember a single exception was a Humanist. Almost every eminent Humanist in the north of Europe was, according to the measure of his uprightness and courage, a Reformer. In a Scottish Uni- versity I need hardly mention the names of Knox, of Buchanan, of Melville, of Secretary Maitland. In truth, minds daily nourished with the best literature of Greece and Rome necessarily grew too strong to be trammelled by the cobwebs of the scholastic divinity ; and the influence of such minds was now rapidly felt by the whole community ; for the invention of printing had brought books within the reach of yeomen and of artisans. From the Medi- terranean to the Frozen Sea, therefore, the public mind was everywhere in a ferment ; and nowhere was the ferment greater than in Scotland. It was in the midst of martyrdoms and proscriptions, in the midst of a war between power and truth, that the first century of the existence of your University closed. Pass another hundred years, and we are in the midst oT another revolution. The war between Popery and Protestantism had, in this island, been terminated by the victory of Pro- testantism. But from that war another war had sprung, the war between"" Prelacy and Puritanism. The hostile religious sects were allied, intermingled, cojifounded with hostile political parties. The monarchical element of the constitution was an object of almost exclu- sive devotion to the Prelatist. The popular element of the constitution was especially dear to the Puritan. At length an appeal was made to te sword. Puritanism triumphed ; but Puritanism was already divided against itself. Independency and Republicanism were on one side, Presbyterianism and limited Monarchy on the other. It was in the very darkest part of that dark time ; it was in the midst of battles, sieges, and execuConlFf it was when the whole world was still aghast at the awful spectacle of a British king standing before a judgment-seat, and laying his neck on a block ; it was when the mangled remains of the Duke of Hamilton had just been laid in the tomb of his house ; it was when the head of the Marquis of Montrose had just been fixed on the Tolbooth of Edin- burgh, that your University completed her second century. A hundred years more, and we have at length reached the beginning oa happier period. Our civil and religious liberties had, indeed, been bought with a fearful price. But they had been bought. The price had been paid. The last batle~had been fought on British ground. The last black scaffold had been set up on Tower Hill. The evil days were over. A bright and tranquil century, a century^ of religious toleration, of domestic peace, of temperate free- dom, of equal Justice, was beginning. That century TsT now closing. When we compare it with any equally long period in the history of any other great society, we shall find abundant cause for thankfulness to the Giver of all good. Nor is there any place in the whole kingdom better fitted to excite this feeling than the place where we are now assembled. For in the whole kingdom we shall find no district in which the progress of trade, of manufactures, of wealth, and of the arts of life, has been more rapid than in Clydesdale. Your University has par- taken largely of the prosperity of this city and of the surrounding region. The security, the tranquillity, the liberty, which have been_propi- - tious tojthe industry of the merchant, and of the manufacturer, have been also propitious to the industry of the scholar. To the last cen- tury belong most ^oTthe names of which you justly boast. The time would fail me if I attempted to do justice to the memory of all the illustrious men who, during that period, taught or learned wisdom within these ancient walls ; geometricians, anatomists, jurists, philo- logists, metaphysicians, poets; Simpson and Hunter, Millar and Young, Reid and Stewart ; Campbell, whose coffin was lately borne to a grave in that renowned transept which contains the dust of Chaucer, of Spenser, and of Dryden ; Black, whose discoveries form an era in the history of chemical science ; Adam Smith, the 62 THE OEATOE, greatest of all the masters of political science ; James Watt, who perhaps did more than any single man has done, since the New Atlantis of Bacon was written, to accomplish that glo- rious prophecy. We now speak the language of humility when we say that the University of Glasgow need not fear a comparison with the University of Bologna. Another secular period is now about to com- mence. There is no lack of alarmists, who will tell you that it is about^to_commence under evil auspices. But from me you must expect no such gloomy prognostications. I have heard them too long and too constantly to he scared by them. Ever since I began to make observations on the state of my country, I have seen nothing but growth, and heard of jnothuig but decay. The more I contemplate our noble institutions, the more convinced I am that they are sound at heart, that they have nothing of age but its dignity, and that their strength is still the strength of youth. The hurricane which has recently overthrown so much that was great, and that seemed durable, has only proved their solidity. They still stand, august and immovable, while dynasties and churches are lying in heaps of ruin all around us. I see no reason to doubt that, by the blessing of God on a wise and temperate policy, on a policy of which the principle is to preserve what is good by reforming in time what is evil, our civil institutions may be preserved unimpaired to a late posterity, and that under the shade of our civil institutions our academical institutions may long continue to flourish. EICHAED B. SHEEIDAN. Born 1751. Died 1816. FILIAL PLETY. FILIAL PIETY ! It is the primeval bond of society it is that instinctive principle which, panting for its proper good, soothes unbidden each sense and sensibility of man ! It now quivers on every lip ! it now beams from every eye ! It is an emanation of that gratitude which, softening under the sense of recollected good, is eager to own the vast, count- less debt it never, alas ! can pay, for so many long years of unceasing solicitudes, honourable self-denials, life-preserving cares ! It is that part of our practice where duty drops its awe ! where reverence refines into love ! it asks no aid of memory ! it needs not the deductions of reason ! pre-existing, paramount over all, whether law or human rule, few arguments can increase and none can diminish it ! it is the sacrament of our nature ! not only the duty, but the indulgence of man it is his first great privilege it is amongst his last most endearing delights ! it causes the bosom to glow with reverberated love ! it requites the visitations of nature, and retains the blessings that have been received ! it fires emotion into vital principle it renders habituated instinct into a master pas- sion sways all the sweetest energies of man hangs over each vicissitude of all that must pass away aids the melancholy virtues, in their last sad tasks of life, to cheer the languors of decrepitude and age explores the thought, elucidates the aching eye and breathes sweet consolation even in the awfal moment of dis- solution ! EAEL EUSSELL. Born 1792. [THE name of Lord John Russell will always be asso- ciated with the reform of the representation of this country. He served an early and long apprenticeship to the cause, and met with many a failure before his ultimate success in 1832. On the 14th of December, 1818, his lordship made his first motion on this subject. On the 19th of May, 1820, he brought in his bill for the disfranchising of Grampound ; in February, 1821, he proposed to transfer the forfeited franchise to Leeds, but a majority of the House being in favour of giving it to York, it was transferred to that county ; later in the same year his proposition for further reforms was negatived by a small majority. In 1822, in consequence of the depressed state of agriculture, numerous meetings were held to petition Parliament for its relief. Reform being the expedient which seemed to many of these meetings the most pro- mising, petitions for reform were sent up from all parts of the country. Upon the strength of these petitions, especially those from Devonshire and Bedfordshire, Lord John Russell moved, on April 5th, 1822 forty-two years ago" That the state of the representation required the serious attention of the House," and from his long and elaborate speech on that occasion the following extract is taken. The motion was, however, negatived by a majority of 105.] PROPOSITIONS rou EEPOEM. LOED JOHN EUSSELL, after stating at some length the evils of the then existing state of the representation, continued : Now, in proposing reform, I propose a mea- sure which must be for the advantage of a wise and good administration ; nay, it ought to be wished for even by the present ministers. For my own part, I will confess that I have never seen in them any dark or dangerous designs of destroying the liberty of their country ; all that I have been able to observe in them is little inclination to do anything, either good or evil, so long as they were permitted to retain un- molested the advantages they derive from power, place, and profit. I believe that in most cases it is perfectly indifferent to them whether the measures they carry are those which they themselves originally proposed, or those which have been altered, framed, and dictated by the indignant sense of the country. I wish them, therefore, to find at once in Par- THE OEATOE. 63 liament an echo of the public voice ; to have it in their power to avoid the odium and disgrace of carrying in this assembly measures which they afterwards abandon ; to be able, without the delusive support of a majority not acknow- ledged by the country, to feel at once in this House the pulse of the people of England. Such a reform, I am convinced, would be at once an advantage to the Crown, a blessing to the people, and the safety of the balance of the constitution. In these conclusions I am happy to think that I am supported by great weight of autho- rity. Lord Clarendon, it is well known, speak- ing of Cromwell's Parliament, in which the number of members for counties was greatly increased, and the smaller boroughs totally omitted, says it was generally thought " a warrantable alteration, and fit to be made in better times." Mr. Locke complains of the representation of decayed boroughs, and parti- cularly of Old Sarum. Without entering more into detail, I may say, that Mr. Justice Black- stone, Lord Chatham, Mr. Fox, and Mr. Pitt, all concur in recommending a temperate and rational reform. Thus you have the sanction of Lord Cla- rendon, the most venerable of Tory statesmen ; of Locke, the most liberal of Whig philosophers ; of Blackstone, the most cautious of constitu- tional writers ; of Chatham, the boldest of prac- tical ministers ; of Mr. Pitt, the theme of eulogy to one great party in this country ; of Mr. Fox, the object of affectionate admiration to another. Such an union of the great autho- rities of men, however different in temper, however opposed in politics, of men forming their judgment upon the most different grounds, living in different times, and agreeing in their conclusions npon hardly any other topic, strikes me as presenting a moral combination in favour of my proposition that is in itself almost irresistible. The opinions of the men whom I have named are blended in our minds with all that is venerable in our constitution and our laws ; their united suffrage in favour of any new measure gives to the mind much of that confidence which in general is only obtained by following the lessons of experience ; it takes away from reform all the ruggedness of inno- vation, and constitutes, as it were, a species of precedent in favour of the course which I am urging you to pursue. Against these autho- rities I know of no equal names which can be adduced on the other side. There are, it is true, Mr. Burke and Mr. Windham, but they were both, perhaps, men who displayed more fancy than deep reflection in the view which they took of this question, and who have cer- tainly left on record no confutation of the powerful arguments of the great statesmen, who thought differently from them on the subject. Having now had the honour of stating to the House the unprecedented advance of the country of late times in wealth and knowledge ; having stated the great increase of corruption which has crept into the elections, and how much confined the popular force has become in influencing the various modes by which mem- bers obtain seats in this House; having also stated the practical injury which has ensued in the wide distinctions prevailing on some great public questions, between the opinions of the people of England and of the members of this House, I now come to the consideration of a plan which I think calculated to remedy a great part of the existing evil. In considering what that plan should be, I have naturally directed my attention to the remedial measures which have been heretofore suggested by persons of weight and authority on this subject. The proposition of Lord Chatham was to add 100 to the number of knights of the shire sitting in this House. Mr. Pitt, likewise following the footsteps of his father, at first proposed an addition of 100 to the number of county mem- bers. Mr. Flood, in the year 1790, proposed the same numerical accession of strength to the representation, to be elected by householders throughout the country ; and Mr. Fox at the time remarked, that the plan of Mr. Flood was the best he had ever seen submitted to the con- sideration of Parliament. Feeling, therefore, the weight and influence of such great authori- ties, I shall adopt their number in my present proposition. My plan will then be, that a hundred new members shall be admitted into this House ; and, as far as I have formed any settled opinion about the disti-ibution of that number, the lean- ing of my mind is, that 60 members should be added for the counties, and the remaining 40 of the 100 should be for the great towns and commercial interests of the country. However, as to the manner of distribution and the mode of election, that is a branch of the subject which ought to be reserved for the gravest and most deliberate consideration, after the present motion shall have been carried. It may, however, be said, that since the time when Chatham, Pitt, Fox, and Flood called for an addition to the number of members in this House, their proposed number of 100 has, in point of fact, been added by the Irish Union, which it is known has given that numerical addition to our body. Nor is there any reform more generally unpalatable than that which proposes to add to the numbers of this House, already rather too large than otherwise. In order to get out of this difficulty, I should say, that a number to the same amount as that given for the representation of Ireland might be struck out of the present list, with great benefit to the country; for instance, let the 64 THE OBATOE. hundred be taken away from the hundred smallest boroughs, which return each two members to sit in Parliament. Let these boroughs return but one member each, and then the present number of the House will be retained. In proposing this plan, I cannot but recall to the recollection of the House, that it was not long ago since I hoped that much of the real Advantages of reform might have been obtained by the detection of prevailing corruption at the borough elections, and the filling up of vacan- cies so detected by a more popular form. By these means it was possible that a great popular representation might have been introduced, to the exclusion of a wide-spreading corruption. In the hope of accomplishing such a change, I moved for a committee last year to consider of the means of legally convicting boroughs of notorious corruption ; and I am not sure that, if the matter had been then taken in a spirit of sincerity, it would not have effected, in a silent and gradual manner, an adequate reform in Parliament. But to be efficacious, it requires the whole co-operation of this House ; and such an aid, I am sorry to declare, I have not been so fortunate as to obtain. I am sorry that the House did not, on the occasion to which I allude, evince the sincere wish I had hoped for, to put down corruption. They agreed, it is true, to punish any specific act of corruption, whenever the particular case was brought under the consideration of Parliament ; but they would not agree to enact the only mea- sures which were calculated practically to put down the evil they professed so anxious a desire to correct. In that respect their conduct resembled that of a police magistrate, who should declare his readiness to convict any notorious thief who might be brought before him, but who at the same time should proclaim that though he knew there were bands of thieves nightly prowling through the streets, he would not send out a single officer of police to apprehend and detect them. The indifference of the House to the mea- sures I then proposed has compelled me to look for others more calculated to insure the co- operation of the country at large, and to obtain from the House, in the gross, that refoi-m which they were unwilling to effect by gradual and unpretending means. I therefore press for your consideration the plan which I have now opened ; I think it the best and safest proposi- tion which can be suggested for the remedy of a notorious and growing evil. There are, obviously, many minor details, into which it is unnecessary for me now to enter, and which can only be conveniently con- sidered in a future stage of this proceeding : such, for instance, is the discussion whether copyholders ought to be permitted to vote in the counties ; but these matters, I repeat, had better remain over until after the introduction of a bill defining the outline of my plan. The first step must be to ascertain whether the House will consider at all the question of Par- liamentary reform. If they once admit the necessity of the principle for which I contend, then I have no doubt they may hereafter, with little difficulty, become reconciled to the mea- sures for its practical application. I think, under such circumstances, the modification of details might easily be accomplished. Leaving, therefore, all these details for future considera- tion, I will shortly state the answers that strike me as applicable to some of the objections which I have heard from time to time made to the expediency, if not to the principle, of Par- liamentary reform. The first and most plausible objection against any alteration in the present constitution of the small boroughs is, that they constantly furnish the means of bringing into Parliament men of great talents. This is an advantage which I am not in any way disposed to undervalue ; but it is one which I submit would remain after my plan is adopted. I have no objection that a number of these boroughs should remain as they now stand ; but what I object to respect- ing them is, that the small boroughs are so numerous, according to the present system, as not only to have their proper weight in the scale of representation, but to have, in addition, the means of commanding a preponderating majority in Parliament. They thus give the sanction of a general Parliamentary assent to measures which have in the main received only the concurrence of a number of individual borough-proprietors. We are thus, for the sake of obtaining a few men of talent, sacrificing the great end of Parliamentary representation, the expression of the feelings and interests of the people. In order to preserve the show, we are giving up the substance of a legitimate House of Commons : "Thus, if you dine with my Lord May'r, Roast baef and venison are your fare ; But tulip leaves and lemon-peel Serve only to adorn the meal ; And he would be an idle dreamer, Who left the pie and gnaw'd the streamer. " The next objection to which I shall advert is founded on that inveterate adherence to ancient forms, however unsuitable ; to old prac- tices, however abusive, which influences so greatly the decisions of the English Parliament. As this objection has its strength more in the feelings and affections than in any logical argu- ment upon which it is grounded as it rests on superstition rather than on reason, I know not how to meet it better than by referring to an example in ancient story. The instance I allude to occurs in the history of Eome ; and THE ORATOR. 65 here I must entreat the attention of the ho- nourable member for Corfe Castle, who may be styled the Tory commentator, as Machiavel may be styled the "Whig commentator on Roman history. About 370 years after the foundation of Rome, there arose a contest, not very unlike the question we are now debating, whether the two consuls should continue to be chosen from the patricians, or whether onejshould be chosen invariably from the plebeian*: Appius Claudius, who was the prime advocffte of aristocracy and existing institutions in that day, argued that the greatest evils would follow if any change was made in the ancient forms. He contended, particularly, that none but a patrician could take the auguries that if any alteration were made the chickens would not eat that in vain they would be required to leave their coops. The language given to him by Livy is : " Qiiid enim cst, si pulli non pa-scentur ? Si ex caved tardius exierint ? Si Occinuerit avis ? Parva sunt licec : sed parva ista non contemnendo majores nostri maximum lianc rem fecerunt." Such was the reasoning of the Roman senator : reasoning, be it observed, not very different from that which is used to show that our whole constitution will be subverted, if any invasion is made on the privileges of Old Sarum. But what Avas the result ? After a successful war against a foreign enemy, Camillus the dictator had to encounter the most dangerous seditions at Rome, raised on this subject of the consulship. What did he and the Senate do ? It will be imagined that they passed restrictive laws ; that they prohi- bited public meetings of more than fifty per- sons in the open air ; that they punished the seditious orators, and restrained the liberty of speech for the future. No such thing. They assented to the petitions of the people. " Vix dinn pcrfunctum eum bello atrocior domi scditio excepit ; et per ingentia certamina dictator senatusque victus, ut rogationes tribunicice acciperentur ; et comitia consulum adversd no- lilitate liabita quilus L. Scxtius de plebe primus consul fadus." And what was the consequence? Discord and calamity ? Quite the reverse. After some further contest, the whole dispute terminated in favour of the people ; and the Senate, to celebrate the return of concord be- tween the two orders, commanded that the great games, the ludi maximi, should be so- lemnized, and that an additional holiday should be observed. Rome increased in power and glory ; she defeated the Samnites ; she resisted Pyrrhus ; she conquered Carthage ; nor in the whole of her famous history is any complaint to be found on record that the chickens de- clined to eat, or that they refused to leave their coops on account of the plebeian consul. The honourable member for Corfe Castle, in relating this circumstance, attributes the concession of NO. DC. Camillus to two reasons : first, that he thought it prudent to grant what could not long be refused ; and, secondly, that he was weary of bearing popular odium. Now, I beseech the honourable member to follow the example of Camillus : let him grant what we cannot much longer refuse, without danger to ourselves and ruin to our country. Let him rest satisfied with the odium we have already acquired, and consent to change a course which has niade us so obnoxious to the people of England Another objection which I have heard made to reform is, that the people, if not numeri- cally, are at least virtually represented ; and as the clearest proof of their agreement in the judgment of Parliament, it is stated, that when that judgment is once pronounced, they acquiesce in it without resistance, and the agi- tations upon that subject immediately cease throughout the country. This is to my mind anything but a test of popular confidence in the wisdom of Parliament. The acquiescence thus spoken of is what, in fact, has constantly ap- peared in the conduct of the people under every government throughout the world. For it is one thing for the people to complain, pend- ing the agitation of any question, and another and very different matter to incur the risk of criminality, by declaring any violent dissent from the final adjudication of the constitutional authorities under which they live. The prac- tice of the people is, to express their opinions while a great question is undecided ; but when the decision of the supreme magistrate once takes place, they have only to choose between bowing to his authority, or acting in rebellion to his power. The people of England, who are distinguished above all other nations for their respect to law, whose characteristic is a submission to what has been adjudged to be legal, know veiy well that a decision of the King and his ministers may be altered, but that, once confirmed by Parliament, the act is complete and final : therefore, while a measure is ministerial, they complain ; when it becomes parliamentary, they are silent. But nothing is more irrational than under such circumstances to infer the approbation of the people from that silence. When the Parliament decided upon the propriety of omitting her late Ma- jesty's name from the Liturgy, did the people, because they then petitioned no more, acquiesce in the justice of that decision ? Were they, when they abstained from remonstrating against the continuance of two postmasters -general, to be supposed as adopting the decision of this House, that two were necessary ? All that ought to be inferred from the people's silence, when so situated, is, that a sufficient case for actual resistance had not yet occurred, and that it was useless for them to protest against the decision of Parliament. I think the people 66 THE ORATOR. judge wisely, because, in the times in -which we live, the abuses they endure, though flagrant, do not amount to a justifiable ground for actual resistance. But let not anything be inferred from their obedience, even if pushed still farther. The people, under the very worst species of tyranny, are often found sullen and silent victims. Does the House not know the perfect obedience which was paid to the acts of James II. ? Was that tyrant not sur- rounded in his worst hour of misgovernment by adulatory lawyers, by subservient addressers, by servile surrenderors of corporate rights in short, by every being who was ready to pros- . trate the liberties of his country ? Did not James enjoy the full measure of this sort of obedience until the evils of his misrule at length compelled him to abandon his throne P Was not the Russian Emperor Paul, notoriously tyrannical as he was, obeyed by the vast popu- lation of his empire during years of oppression, and up to the moment when the bowstring put an end to his despotic career ? Was not Ferdi- nand of Spain obeyed when he signed with his own hand the death-warrants of his best sub- jects, until at last the flame of popular discon- tent, which remained so long smothered, burst forth in the blaze of rebellion, and consumed all the bulwarks of his arbitrary rule P No doubt that, in the day of these tyrannic acts, the inflictors of them thought, as some men are disposed to think here, that the people were in willing and satisfied obedience because they abstained from open resistance ; and there were bad advisers to press for the continuance of fatal and desperate measures, until at length they became intolerable, and recoiled upon the heads of the abettors of them with ruin and destruction. The same fate will befall England, if similar measures are pursued to a desperate extremity. Suppose a war arose, not of the people's own seeking, though the minister were to secure for it the approbation of Parliament suppose it led to bankruptcy and general con- fusion, in that melancholy hour, what answer would the uniform opposers of reform have for those whose advice, if timely attended to, would have saved the institutions of their country ? What security would you have then that the reform which has not been made from within, may not come with a vengeance from without P And now, lastly, I come to an objection, which in the failure of all other argument, after the defeat of every specific and tangible objec- tion, is always brought forward as a complete bar to eveiy proposition of reform. This con- sideration, which addresses itself rather to the nerves than to the understanding of those on whom it is meant to operate, is the example of the civil wars of England and the French Revolution. I likewise beseech your attention to the civil wars of England and the French Revolution ; but I beg of you that it may be a sober attention, worthy of men and of English, men. And first let me ask, will any man say that it would have been right to permit Charles I. to abolish parliamentary government, to levy money by his own authority, and super- sede the ancient liberties of England by the doctrine of divine right P that it was not law- ful and praiseworthy to resist a system of despotism, not intended, not projected, but actually established in England in the early years of that reign P Or will any man say that the mean debauchery of Louis XV. was a fit employment for the resources of a great nation like the French ? that the abuses of the French government did not require reform P If there be any man who will say this, let him enjoy his opinion if he will, but let him not presume to think himself worthy to enjoy the benefits of the British constitution ; and, above all, let him not venture to think his counsels can be listened to in a British Parliament. I assume, then and let us now confine our attention to one of the two countries I assume that Lord Clarendon, and Lord Straf- ford, and Lord Falkland were right in their early opposition to the misgovernment of Charles I. But why not stop, it will be said, like Lord Clarendon and Lord Falkland P Alas ! sir, who shall say that the policy of Lord Clarendon and Lord Falkland would have pro- cured for us a system of liberty? Who will venture to lay his finger upon that point in the History of Charles I., when it would have been possible to save the monarchy without losing the constitution? Who shall presume himself to possess more learning than Selden, more sagacity than Pym, more patriotism than Hampden P The question, in fact, was involved in inex- tricable difficulty. From all I have read, and all I have thought upon this subject, I take the cause of that difficulty to be this : The aristocracy were divided ; they were divided between a larger party, who were satisfied to bear arbitrary power for the sake of property and tranquillity ; and a smaller party, who Avere ready to sacrifice property, and even life, for the sake of destroying arbitrary power. But this last party, being the minority, were obliged to oall to their aid the assistance of the people. >Wow the history of the world shows, that ^K) accomplish great changes in govern- ment by the active agency of the people, is a task of great hazard and uncertainty. . The people, in a state of agitation, are, in times like those I speak of, naturally suspicious : they awake from a dream of confidence, and find that their facility has been abused by those rulers in whom they had implicitly trusted. In this wreck of all their established reliances. in this anxious desire for the benefits of free- THE ORATOR. 67 dom, in this tremorous apprehension of falling back into slavery, what wonder is it that their fears should be continually roused, that they should listen to accusations even against their best friends, and that, with a mixture of zeal and timidity, they should destroy the beautiful temple at the same time that they tear down the foul idol that it contains ? What matter of surprise is it that, unable to know exactly the truth, they should rase the veiy foundations of a society under which they have greatly suffered ? But how are these evils to be avoided ? How are these natural and usual calamities, attend- ant on popular revolutions, to be averted ? By a united aristocracy. History here, too, tells us, that if great changes accomplished by the people are dangerous, although sometimes salutary, great changes accomplished by an aristocracy, at the desire of the people, are at once salutary and safe. When such revolu- tions are made, the people are always ready to leave in the hands of the aristocracy that guidance which tends to preserve the balance of the government and the tranquillity of the State. Such a change was the expulsion of the Tarquins from Rome ; of James II. from England. These were revolutions accomplished without bloodshed and confusion, by the influ- ence of an united aristocracy. I call upon the aristocracy of England, therefore, now to unite to make that change safe, which, if they do not unite, may be dangerous, but which will not be the less inevitable/ I call upon the Tories to stay the progresg^f abuses which must end in the convulsion of the State. I appeal still more confidently to the Whigs to unite for a similar object, if I know anything of Whiggism, the spirit of Whiggism is, to require for the people as much liberty as their hands can safely grasp at the time when it is required : and I am so far from agreeing to the flimsy accusations sometimes made against the Whigs, that I think, looking at their condiict from the beginning, their chief fault has been a fault of policy, in asking for more freedom and more securities for freedom than the people wished or could retain. The Exclusion Bill and the whole life of Mr. Fox are instances of this ob- servation. When at the revolution, however, the government of this country was settled, the Whigs retained in their own hands the boroughs which they were able to influence. I really believe that to this measure the settlement of the House of Hanover is mainly owing. During the reigns of the two first kings of the house of Brunswick, the county members consisted almost entirely of the most determined Tories : and had they prevailed, we should probably have seen upon the throne the descendants of James II., granting, perhaps, more securities for our religion, but not more guarantees for our liberty than James himself. I think, there- fore, the Whigs were fully justified in retaining a certain quantity of borough influence, which they could not otherwise have justly held. But now, when the people are enlight- ened, and fully capable of understanding their own interests, the Whigs will act wisely if they yield to the increased intelligence of the countiy a due share in the return of their representa- tives. As they formerly retained the boroughs to secure liberty, let them now, for the same noble object, consent to part with them. Let them show to the country that if reform is impeded, the Whig aristocracy stands free from the charge of hindering its progress from any personal and selfish interest of their own. In so doing, they will give energy and effect to their opposition in Parliament; for I do not wish to conceal it, the possession of these boroughs has lessened the energy of their efforts in support of the liberties of the country. They have been able to state, with less firmness and frankness than 'they might otherwise have done, the causes of the misgovernment of the country ; and the people, on the other hand, seem to feel that the Whig aristocracy retain something which properly belongs to themselves. Hence the union between the party of the people within and without the walls of Parliament has been less cordial than it would be if the Whigs were content to yield something to the popular desire for reform. I beseech them to do so ; but not them only ; all the aristocracy of the land. Sir William Temple, a wise and amiable man, but whom no one will accuse of being too great an enthusiast for liberty, has said, that this great nation never can be ruined but by itself; and that, even in the greatest changes, if the weight and number rolled one way, yet England would be safe. I beseech you that the weight and number may roll one way ; I beseech the possessors of great property to consider how nearly it concerns them to retain the affections of the great mass of the people. I beseech you, that, throwing aside all feminine fears, all pedantic prejudices, and all private advantages, you will consider only your duty as men, the wants of the age in which we live, and that permanent and pervading interest which we all have in the maintenance of the English con- stitution. May you remember that the liberty which was acquired for you by your ancestors will be required of you by your descendants : then will you agree to a temperate and timely reform, reconcile the different classes of society, and prevent a convulsion which may involve all in one common ruin. Then may that proud constitution, which has now subsisted in matu- rity little more than one hundred years, con- tinue to maintain the spirit of its freedom, and extend the sphere of its salutary influence, until its existence vies with that of the most durable THE ORATOR. institutions that were ever reared for the hap- piness of mankind in any age, or in any country. I now move, " That the present state of the representation of the people in Parlia- ment requires the most serious consideration of this House." HENRY DRUMMOND. [WE here present our readers with a specimen of the oratory of one who was a real old Tory, and who gloried in his principles. Much of the power of his speeches, which were always worth hearing 1 , and which often pro- duced a profound impression in the House, is lost. As Lord Lovaine, his friend, and the editor of a collection of his speeches, well says, "They are the practical, powerful exposition, in terse and cogent terms, of the ideas of the speaker ; but they cannot convey to the reader the effect they produced on the listeners. The boldness which challenged opposition the ready wit which confounded the interrupter the cutting irony which pierced through every conventionality, and laid bare every hypocrisy seem dull and lifeless on the printed page." The short speech which follows is one of the best in the collection, and the fine and happy stroke of satire with which it ends will always be remembered in con- nection with the speaker's name. It was delivered on March 13th, 1855, on the question, " That leave be given to bring in a bill to amend the law as to marriage with a deceased wife's sister, or a deceased wife's niece."] MARRIAGE LAW AMENDMENT. rPHE object of the honourable member who JL has just sat down (Mr. Spooner) was, as I heard him, to inculcate and promote private morality ; but he began his task by advising the House to set the law of God at defiance. The honourable gentleman went on to say that there was a vast majority of the people in favour of his views ; so that the question of settling an important principle is to be decided by counting noses. This is not an argument usually employed; for every single sect, however small, is in the habit of saying to itself, " Fear not, little flock ; it is your Father's good plea- sure to give you the kingdom ; " and, except from the honourable gentleman, I have never heard that the multitude of those who agree to it is to be taken as the test of a theological proposition. But it is not to answer the argu- ments of the honourable member for Warwick- shire that I rose. The honourable member who opened the discussion stated the time his- tory of this question. There never was a doubt on the mind of the Church as to the true meaning of those passages upon the subject which have been quoted from Scripture. It is very time that from the third to the fifth century for the first time the question of dispensations began to be raised, and the Pope prohibited as much as he could. In so doing the Pope acted most wisely, for the more he prohibited, the more iiit was brought to his mill in the shape of money for dispensations. " But," said an ho- nourable and learned gentleman (Mr. Bowyer), who ought to know better, " the Church," by which he meant the Papacy, "never dared to say a word against that which it believed to be the word of God." The honourable and learned gentleman must, however, know that the law of his Church, as described by a great authority, was Papa potest legem Dei mutare. The honourable and learned gentleman should also recollect that there is another passage from the same authority, in which it is clearly stated that the Pope can make vitia those things which other people suppose to be virtutes, and virtutcs what other people siippose to be vitia. It ia notorious that the prohibition against these marriages has been set aside in every direction. Have you never read the history of Spain ? Have you never read of Kings of Spain marry- ing their own nieces ? Why almost the whole of their history, especially after the arrival of the Bourbons in the country, has been one con- tinual history of incest, for which they have paid enormous sums to procure dispensations. The reason the permission was given to the Jew to many his brother's wife was, that under the Mosaic economy the land was divided into twelve portions, and no person who belonged to one tribe could acquire land that belonged to another tribe. They were obliged to keep the land in the possession of the tribe to which it pertained; and it was to preserve the succes- sion in that tribe that a man was bound to marry his deceased brother's wife. The honour- able member who last addressed the House, instead of arguing as he did, had better get rid of the prohibited degrees altogether, and marry his grandmother like a man or his niece, for perhaps his niece would be much better worth marrying than his grandmother ; that is, if you mean to set aside the word of God as a thing that is utterly unworthy and contemptible in your new code of morality. Then let him act like a man, and not stand snivelling there between the canting Methodist on the one hand, and the honest old infidel on the other. [Mr. J. Ball begged to remind Mr. Drum- mond that the quotation he had made in sup- port of the power of the Pope came from that eminent writer, Cardinal Bellarmine, and that when it was sought to canonize that individual, the very text which the honourable member quoted was produced against him as erroneous doctrine, and on the ground of that text the canonization was refused.] Mr. Drummond answered, That is all perfectly true, and the very next year it was altered in this way Papa noil potest legem Dei mutare nisi cum causa. THE OEATOE. 69 LOED CHATHAM. Bor.i 1708. Died 1778. [THE following speech was delivered in the House of Lords, on the Address to the Throne, at the opening of Parliament, on the 18th of November, 1777, and is from beginning to end a splendid protest against the pro- posed continuance of the already hopeless struggle with America. This speech was among the last efforts of this distinguished statesman, and though made in the lingering season of decrepit age, and under the severest pangs of disease, displays undiminished the excellences of Chatham's eloquence. It would, indeed, be difficult to find, in the whole range of parliamentary history, a more splendid blaze of oratorical genius, at once rapid, vigorous, and exalted. Death soon after- wards terminated his glorious career.] PBOTEST AGAINST THE AMEBICAN WAB. IEISE, my lords, to declare my sentiments on this most solemn and serious subject. It has imposed a load upon my mind, which, I fear, nothing can remove ; but which impels me to endeavour its alleviation, by a free and unre- served communication of my sentiments. In the first part of the address I have the honour of heartily concurring with the noble earl who moved it. v Niman feels sincerer joy than I do ; none cafll s fiferniore genuine congratula- tion on every accession. oN^rength to the Pro- testant succession. I therefore join in every congratulation on the birth of another princess, and the happy recovery of her Majesty. But I must stop here. My courtly complaisance will carry me no further. I will not join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. I cannot concur in a blind and servile address, which approves, and endeavours to sanctify, the monstrous measures which have heaped dis- grace and misfortune upon us. This, my lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment ! It is not a time for adulation. The smoothness of flattery cannot now avail ; cannot save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now neces- sary to instruct the throne in the language of truth. We must dispel the delusion and the darkness which envelope it ; and display, in its full danger and true colours, the niin that is brought to oiir doors. This, my lords, is our duty. It is the proper function of this noble assembly, sitting, as we do, upon our honotirs in this House, the here- ditary council of the crown. TF7;o is the min- ister, where is the minister, that has dared to suggest to the throne the contraiy, unconsti- tutional language this day delivered from it ? The accustomed language from the throne has been application to Parliament for advice, and a reliance on its constitutional advice and assist- ance. As it is the right of Parliament to give, so it is the duty of the crown to ask it. But on this day, and in this extreme momentous exigency, no reliance is reposed on our constitu- tional counsels ! no advice is asked from the sober and enlightened care of Parliament ! but the crown, from itself and by itself, declares an unalterable determination to pursue measures and what measures, my lords ? The measures that have produced the imminent perils that threaten us ; the measures that have brought ruin to our doors. Can the minister of the day now presume to expect a continuance of support in ^ris ruinous infatuation ? Can Parliament be so dead to its dignity and its duty, as to be thus deluded into the loss of the one and the violation of the other ? to give an unlimited credit and support for the steady perseverance in measures not proposed for our parliamentary advice, but dictated and forced upon us in measures, I say, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to ruin and contempt ? " But yesterday, And England might have stood against the world : Now none so poor to do her reverence." S I use the words of a poet ; but though it be poetry, it is no fiction. It is a shameful truth, that not only the power and strength of this country are wasting away and expiring, but her well-earned glories, her true honour, and substantial dignity are sacrificed. France, my lords, has insulted you ; she has encouraged and sustained America ; and whether America be wrong or right, the dignity of this country ought to spurn at the officious insult of French interference. The ministers and ambassadors of those who are called rebels and enemies are in Paris ; in Paris they transact the reciprocal interests of America and France. Can there be a more mortifying insult? Can even our ministers sustain a more humiliating disgrace ? Do they dare to resent it ? Do they presume even to hint a vindication of their honour, and the dignity of the State, by requiring the dis- mission of the plenipotentiaries of America ? Such is the degradation to which they have reduced the glories of England ! The people whom they affect to call contemptible rebels, but whose growing power has at last obtained the name of enemies; the people with whom they have engaged this country in war, and against whom they now command our implicit support in every measure of desperate hostility ; this people, despised as rebels, or acknowledged as enemies, are abetted against you, supplied with every military store, their interests con- sulted, and their ambassadors entertained, by your inveterate enemy ! and our ministers dare not interpose with dignity or effect. Is this the honour of a great kingdom ? Is this the indignant spirit of England, who " but yester- day " gave law to the house of Bourbon ? My lords, the dignity of nations demands a decisive conduct in a situation like this. Even when the greatest prince that perhaps this country ever saw filled our throne, the requisition of a Spanish general on a similar subject was at* 70 THE ORATOR. tended to, and complied with. For, on the spirited remonstrance of the Duke of Alva, Elizabeth found herself obliged to deny the Flemish exiles all countenance, support, or even entrance into her dominions ; and the Count le Marque, with his few desperate followers, were expelled the kingdom. Happening to arrive at the Brille, and finding it weak in defence, they made themselves masters of the place ; and this was the foundation of the United Provinces. My lords, this ruinous and ignominious situa- tion, where we cannot act with success, nor suffer with honour, calls upon us to remonstrate in the strongest and loudest language of truth, to rescue the ear of Majesty from the delusions which surround it. The desperate state of our arms abroad is in part known. No man thinks more highly of them than I do. I love and honour the English troops. I know their virtues and their valour. I know they can achieve anything except impossibilities ; and I know that the conquest of English America is an impossibility. You cannot, I venture to say it, you cannot conquer America. Your armies last war effected everything that could be effected ; and what was it ? It cost a nu- merous army under the command of a most able general,* now a noble lord in this House, a long and laborious campaign, to expel five thousand Frenchmen from French America. My lords, you cannot conquer America. What is your present situation there ? We do not know the worst; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing and suffered much. Besides the sufferings, perhaps total loss of the northern force ; f the best- appointed army that ever took the field, commanded by Sir William Howe, has retired from the Ameri- can lines. He was obliged to relinquish his attempt, and with great delay and danger to adopt a new and distant plan of operations. We shall soon know, and in any event have reason to lament, what may have happened since. As to conquest, therefore, my lords, I repeat, it is impossible. You may swell every expense, and every effort, still more extrava- gantly; pile and accumulate every assistance you can buy or borrow ; traffic and barter with every little pitiful German prince that sells and sends his subjects to the shambles of a foriegn prince ; your efforts are for ever vain and impo- tent : doubly so from this mercenary aid on which you rely. For it irritates, to an incur- able resentment, the minds of your enemies, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder ; devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an English- man, while a foreign troop was landed in my * Lord Amherst, then Sir Jeffery Amhcrst. 1" General Burgoyne's army. country, I never would lay down my arms never never never ! Your own army is infected with the conta- gion of these illiberal allies. The spirit of plunder and of rapine is gone forth among them. I know it and notwithstanding what the noble earl,* who moved the address, hag given as his opinion of our American army, I know from authentic information, and the most experienced officers, that our discipline is deeply wounded. Whilst this is notoriously our sinking situation, America grows and nourishes : whilst our strength and discipline are lowered, hers are rising and improving. /But, my lords, who is the man that, in addi- tion to these disgraces and mischiefs of our army, has dared to authorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage ? to call into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman savage of the woods ; to delegate to the merciless Indian the defence of disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of hia barbarous war against our brethren ? My lords, these enormities cry aloud for redress and punishment. Unless thoroughly done away, it will be a stain on the national character. It ia a violation of the constitution. I believe it ia against law. It is not the least of our national misfortunes that the strength and character of our army are thus impaired. Infected with the mercenary spirit of robbery and rapine; fami- liarized to the horrid scenes of savage cruelty, it can no longer boast of the noble and gene- rous principles which dignify a soldier ; no longer sympathize with the dignity of the royal banner, nor feel the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, " that make ambition virtue ! " What makes ambition virtue ? The sense of honour. But is the sense of honour consistent with a spirit of plunder, or the practice of murder ? Can it flow from mercenary motives, or can it prompt to cruel deeds ? Besides these murderers and plunderers, let me ask our ministers, what other allies have they acquired ? What other powers have they associated to their cause ? Have they entered into alliance with the king of the gypsies ? Nothing, my lords, is too low or too ludicrous to be consist- ent with their counsels. The independent views of America have been stated and asserted as the foundation of this address. My lords, no man wishes for the duo dependence of America on this country more than I do. To preserve it, and not confirm that state of independence into which your measures hitherto have driven them, is the object which we ought to unite in attaining. The Americans, contending for their rights against arbitrary exactions, I love and admire. It is the struggle of free and virtuous patriots ; * Lord Percy. THE OEATOR. 71 but contending for independency and total dis- connection from England, as an Englishman, I cannot wish them success. For, in a due con- stitutional dependency, including the ancient Mupremacy of this country in regulating their commerce and navigation, consists the mutual happiness and prosperity both of England and America. She derived assistance and protec- tion from us ; and we reaped from her the most important advantages. She was, indeed, the fountain of our wealth, the nerve of our strength, the nursery and basis of our naval power. It is our duty, therefore, my lords, if we wish to save our conntry, most seriously to endeavour the recovery of these most beneficial subjects : and in this perilous crisis, perhaps the present moment may be the only one in which we can hope for success. For in their negotiations with France they have, or think they have, reason to complain, though it be notorious that they have received from that power important supplies and assistance of various kinds, yet it is certain they expected it in a more decisive and immediate degree. America is in ill-hu- mour with France on some points that have not entirely answered her expectations. Let us wisely take advantage of every possible moment of reconciliation. Besides, the natural disposi- tion of America herself still leans towards England; to the old habits of connection and mutual interest that united both countries. This was the established sentiment of all the continent, and still, my lords, in the great and principal part, the sound part of America, this wise and affectionate disposition prevails ; and there is a very considerable part of America yet sound the middle and the southern pro- vinces. Some parts may be factious and blind to their true interests ; but if we express a wise and benevolent disposition to communicate to them those immutable rights of nature, and those constitutional liberties, to which they are equally entitled with ourselves ; by a conduct BO just and humane, we shall confirm the favourable, and conciliate the adverse. I say, nay lords, the rights and liberties to which they are equally entitled with ourselves ; but no more. I would participate to them every en- joyment and freedom which the colonizing subjects of a free state can possess, or wish to possess ; and I do not see why they should not enjoy every fundamental right in their property, and every original substantial liberty, which Devonshire or Surrey, or the county I live in, or any other county in England, can claim ; reserving always, as the sacred right of the mother country, the due constitutional depend- ency of the colonies. The inherent supremacy of the State in regulating and protecting the navigation and commerce of all her subjects, is necessary for the mutual benefit and preserva- tion of every part, to constitute and preserve the prosperous arrangement of the whole empire. The sound parts of America, of which I have spoken, must be sensible of these great truths, and of their real interests. America is not in that state of desperate and contemptible rebel- lion which this country has been deluded to believe. It is not a wild and lawless banditti, who, having nothing to lose, might hope to snatch something from public convulsions. Many of their leaders and great men have a great stake in this great contest. The gentleman who conducts their armies, I am told, has an estate of four or five thousand pounds a year ; and when I consider these things, I cannot but lament the inconsiderate violence of our penal acts, our declarations of treason and rebellion, with all the fatal effects of attainder and confiscation. As to the disposition of foreign powers which is asserted to be pacific * and friendly, let us judge, my lords, rather by their actions and the nature of things than by interested assertions. The uniform assistance supplied to America by France suggests a different conclusion. The most important interests of France, in aggran- dizing and enriching herself with what she most wants, supplies of every naval store from America, must inspire her with different senti- ments. The extraordinary preparations of the house of Bourbon, by land and by sea, from Dun- kirk to the Straits, equally ready and willing to overwhelm these defenceless islands, should rouse us to a sense of their real disposition, and our own danger. Not five thousand troops in England ! hardly three thousand in Ireland ! What can we oppose to the combined force of our enemies ? Scarcely twenty ships of the line fully or sufficiently manned, that any admiral's reputation would permit him to take the command of. The river of Lisbon in the possession of our enemies ! The seas swept by American privateers ! Our channel trade torn to pieces by them ! In this complicated crisis of danger, weakness at home, and calamity abroad, terrified and insulted by the neighbouring powers, unable to act in America, or acting only to be destroyed, where is the man with the forehead to promise or hope for success in such a situation ? or from perseverance in the mea- sures that have driven us to it ? Who has the forehead to do so ? Where is that man ? I should be glad to see his face. You cannot conciliate America by your pre- sent measures. You cannot subdue her by your present, or by any measures. What, then, can you do ? You cannot conquer ; you can- not gain ; but you can address. You can lull the fears and anxieties of the moment into an ignorance of the danger that should produce them. But, my lords, the time demands the * In tho King's speech. 72 THE OKATOB. language of truth. We must not now apply the flattering unction of servile compliance, or blind complaisance. In a just and necessary war, to maintain the rights or honour of my country, I would strip the shirt from my back to support it. But in such a war as this, un- just in its principle, impracticable in its means, and ruinous in its consequences, I would not contribute a single effort, nor a single shilling. I do not call for vengeance on the heads of those who have been guilty : I only recommend to them to make their retreat. Let them walk off; and let them make haste, or they may be assured that speedy and condign punishment will overtake them. My lords, I have submitted to you, with the freedom and truth which I think my duty, my sentiments on your present awful situation. I have laid before you the ruin of your power, the disgrace of your repu- tation, the pollution of your discipline, the con- tamination of your morals, the complication of calamities, foreign and domestic, that over- whelm your sinking country. Your dearest interests, your own liberties, the constitution itself, totters to the foundation. All this dis- graceful danger, this multitude of misery, is the monstrous offspring of this unnatural war. We have been deceived and deluded too long. Lot us now stop short. This is the crisis the only crisis,* of time and situation, to give us a possibility of escape from the fatal effects of our delusions. But if, in an obstinate and infatu- ated perseverance in folly, we slavishly echo the peremptory words this day presented to us, nothing can save this devoted country from com- plete and final ruin. We madly rush into multi- plied miseries and "confusion worse confounded." Is it possible, can it be believed, that ministers are yet blind to this impending destruction ? I did hope that, instead of this false and empty vanity, this overweening pride, engendering high conceits and presumptuous imaginations, that ministers would have humbled themselves in their errors, would have confessed and retracted them, and by an active, though a late repent- ance, have endeavoured to redeem them. But, my lords, since they had neither sagacity to foresee, nor justice nor humanity to shun, these oppressive calamities; since not even severe experience can make them feel, nor the immi- nent ruin of their countiy awaken them from their stupefaction, the guardian care of Parlia- ment must interpose. I shall, therefore, my lords, propose to you an amendment to the address to his Majesty, to be inserted imme- * It cannot escape observation with what urgent anxiety the noble speaker presses this point throughout his speech the critical necessity of instantly treating with America. But the warning voice was heard in vain ; the address triumphed ; Parliament adjourned ; ministers enjoyed the festive recess of a long Christmas ; and America ratified her alliance with France. diately after the two first paragraphs of congratu- lation on the birth of a princess, to recommend an immediate cessation of hostilities, and the commencement of a treaty to restore peace and liberty to America, strength and happiness to England, security and permanent prosperity to both countries. This, my lords, is yet in our power ; and let not the wisdom and justice of your lordships neglect the happy, and perhaps the only, opportunity. By the establishment of irrevocable law, founded on mutual rights, and ascertained by treaty, these glorious enjoy- ments may be firmly perpetuated. And let me repeat to your lordships, that the strong bias of America, at least of the wise and sounder parts of it, naturally inclines to this happy and con- stitutional reconnection with you. Notwith- standing the temporary intrigues with France, we may still be assured of their ancient and confirmed partiality to us. America and France cannot be congenial. There is something decisive and confirmed in the honest American, that will not assimilate to the futility and levity of Frenchmen. My lords, to encourage and confirm that innate inclination to this country, founded on every principle of affection, as well as con si- deration of interest ; to restore that favourable disposition into a permanent and powerful reunion with this country ; to revive the mutual strength of the empire ; again to awe the house of Boiirbon, instead of meanly truckling, as our present calamities compel us, to every insult of French caprice and Spanish punctilio ; to re-establish our commerce; to re-assert our rights and our honour; to confirm our interests, and renew our glories for ever, a consummation most devoutly to be endeavoured, and which, I trust, may yet arise from reconciliation with America, I have the honour of submitting to you the following amendment, which I move to be inserted after the two first paragraphs of the address : " And that this House does most humbly advise and supplicate his Majesty to be pleased to cause the most speedy and effectual measures to be taken for restoring peace in America ; and that no time may be lost in proposing an immediate cessation of hostilities there, in order to the opening of a treaty for the final settlement of the tranquillity of these invaluable provinces, by a removal of the unhappy causes of this ruinous civil war ; and by a just and adequate security against the return of the like calamities in times to come. And this House desire to offer the most dutiful assurances to his Majesty that they will, in due time, cheerfully co-operate with the magnanimity and tender goodness of his Majesty, for the preservation of his people, by such explicit and most solemn declarations, and provisions of fundamental and revocable laws, as may be judged neces 'ary for the THE OEATOll. / ascertaining and fixing for ever the respective rights of Great Britain and her colonies." In the course of this debate, Lord Suffolk, secretary for the northern department, undertook to defend the employment of the Indians in the war. His lordship contended that, besides its policy and necessity, the measure was also allowable on principle ; for that " it was per- fectly justifiable to use all the means that God r and nature put into ov/r hands ! " I AM ASTONISHED ! (exclaimed Lord Chatham, as he rose) shocked ! to hear such principles confessed to hear them avowed in this House, or in this country : principles equally unconsti- tutional, inhuman, and unchristian ! My lords, I did not intend to have encroached again upon your attention ; but I cannot repress my indignation. I feel myself impelled by every duty. My lords, we are called upon as members of this House, as men, as Christian men, to protest against such notions standing near the throne, polluting the ear of Majesty. " That God and nature put into our hands ! " I know not what ideas that lord may entertain of God and nature ; but I know that such abominable principles are equally abhorrent to religion and humanity. What ! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife to the cannibal savage torturing, murdering, roasting, and eating; literally, my lords, eating the mangled victims of his barbarous battles ! Such horrible notions shock every precept of religion, divine or natural, and every generous feeling of humanity. And, my lords, they shock every sentiment of honoiir ; they shock me as a lover of honourable war, and a detester of murderous barbarity. These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation. I call upon that right reverend bench, those holy ministers of the Gospel, and pious pastors of our church ; I conjure them to join in the holy work, and vindicate the religion of their God. I appeal to the wisdom and the law of this learned bench to defend and support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops to interpose ! the unsullied sanctity of their lawn ; xipon the ' learned judges to interpose the purity of their ermine to save us from this pollution. I call upon the honour of your lordships to reverence the dignity of yotir ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country to vindicate the national cha- racter. I invoke the genius of the constitution. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the * Lord Effingham. Lord Effingham Howard was Lord High Admiral of England against the Spanish Armada, the destruction of which was represented in the tapestry on the walls of the old House of Lords. NO. X. immortal ancestor of this noble lord * frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his country. In vain he led your victorious fleets against the boasted Armada of Spain ; in vain he defended and established the honour, the liberties, the religion, the Protestant religion, of this country, against the arbitrary cruelties of Popery and the Inquisition, if these more than Popish cruelties and inquisitorial practices are let loose among us ; to turn forth into our settlements, among our ancient connections, friends, and relations, the merciless cannibal, thirsting for the blood of man, woman, and child ! to send forth the infidel savage against whom? Against your Protestant brethren ; to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and extirpate their race and name, with these horrible hell-hounds' of savage war \-hell-Jiounds, I say, of savage ivar. Spain armed herself with blood-hounds to extirpate the wretched natives of America; and we improve on the inhuman example even of Spanish cruelty : we turn loose these savage hell-hounds against our brethren and country- men in America, of the same language, laws, liberties, and religion ; endeared to us by every tie that should sanctify humanity. My lords, this awful subject, so important to our honour, our constitution, and our religion, demands the most solemn and effectual inquiry. And I again call upon your lordships, and the united powers of the State, to examine it thoroughly and decisively, and to stamp upon it an indelible stigma of the public abhorrence. And I again implore those holy prelates of our religion to do away these iniquities from among us. Let them perform a lustration ; let them purify this House, and this country, from this sin. My lords, I am old and weak, and at present unable to say more ; but my feelings and indig- nation were too strong to have said less. I could not have slept this night in my bed, nor reposed my head on my pillow, without giving this vent to my eternal abhorrence of such preposterous and enormous principles. M EN who early attain eminence repose progress of the human mind subsequent to its adoption, and when, as in the present case, it has burst forth into action, they regard it as a transient madness, worthy only of pity or derision. They mistake it for a mountain torrent that will pass away with the storm that gave it birth. They know not that it is the stream of human opinion in oinne volubilis ceviiiii, which the accession of every day will swell, which is destined to sweep into the same oblivion the resistance of learned sophistry, and of powerful oppression. Mackintosh. F 2 74 THE OEATOE. WILLIAM PITT. Born 1759. Died 1806. [NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE, on his return from Egypt, Laving dissolved the Directorial Government (Nov. 9, 1799), sent a letter to King George III., urging him to join with him in restoring peace. This overture was declined by Lord Grenville, as was a second from M. Talleyrand, and the subject became a matter for debate in both Houses. An Address of a warlike character, in favour of the rejection of the overtures, was proposed by Lord Gren- viile, and carried in both Houses. The following is an extract from Mr. Pitt's speech on the occasion (delivered Feb. 3, 1800), containing, in support of the Address, a masterly summary of Napo- leon's career up to that time, and a by no means unjust though stern estimate of his principles.] THE FIRST CONSUL OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. HAVING taken a view of what the state of France was, let us now examine what it is. In the first place, we see, as has been truly stated, a change in the description and form of the sovereign authority ; a supreme power is placed at the head of this nominal republic, with a more open avowal of military despotism than at any former period ; with a more open and undisguised abandonment of the names and pretences under which that despotism long attempted to conceal itself. The different in- stitutions, republican in their form and appear- ance, which were before the instruments of that despotism, are now annihilated; they have given way to the absolute power of one man, concentrating in himself all the authority of the State, and differing from other monarchs only in this, that, as my honourable friend* truly stated it, he wields a sword instead of a sceptre. What, then, is the confidence we are to derive either from the frame of the govern- ment, or from the character and past conduct of the person who is now the absolute ruler of France ? Had we seen a man, of whom we had no previous knowledge, suddenly invested with the sovereign authority of the country; invested with the power of taxation, with the power of the sword, the power of war and peace, the unlimited power of commanding the resources, of disposing of the lives and fortunes, of every man in France ; if we had seen, at the same moment, all the inferior machinery of the revo- lution, which, under the variety of successive shocks, had kept the system in motion, still remaining entire, all that, by requisition and plunder, had given activity to the revolutionary system of finance, and had furnished the means of creating an army, by converting every man who was of age to bear arms into a soldier, not for the defence of his own country, but for the sake of carrying unprovoked war into surround- ing countries ; if we had seen all the subordi- nate instruments of Jacobin power subsisting * Mr. Canning. in their full force, and retaining (to use the French phrase) all their original organization ; and had then observed this single change in the conduct of their affairs, that there was now one man with no rival to thwart his measures, no colleague to divide his powers, no council to control his operations, no liberty of speaking or writing, no expression of public opinion to check or influence his conduct ; under such circum- stances, should we be wrong to pause, or wait for the evidence of facts and experience, before we consented to trust our safety to the forbear- ance of a single man, in such a situation, and to relinquish those means of defence which have hitherto carried us safe through all the storms of the revolution P if we were to ask what are the principles and character of this stranger, to whom fortune has suddenly com- mitted the concerns of a great and powerful nation ? But is this the actual state of the present question? Are we talking of a stranger of whom we have heard nothing ? No, sir ; we have heard of him; we, and Europe, and the world, have heard both of him and of the satel- lites by whom he is surrounded; and it is impossible to discuss fairly the propriety of any answer which could be returned to his overtures of negotiation, without taking into considera- tion the inferences to be drawn from his per- sonal character and conduct. I know it is the fashion with some gentlemen to represent any reference to topics of jthis nature as invidious and irritating ; but the truth is, that they rise unavoidably out of the very nature of the question. Would it have been possible for ministers to discharge their duty, in offering their advice to their Sovereign, either for ac- cepting or declining negotiation, without taking into their account the reliance to be placed on the disposition and the principles of the person on whose disposition and principles the secu- rity to be obtained by treaty must, in the present circumstances, principally depend? or would they act honestly or candidly towards Parliament and towards the country, if, having been guided by these considerations, they for- bore to state publicly and distinctly the real grounds which have influenced their decision ; and if, from a false delicacy and groundless timidity, they purposely declined an examina- tion of a point, the most essential towards enabling Parliament to form a just determina- tion on so important a subject ? What opinion, then, are we led to form of the pretensions of the Consul to those parti- cular qualities which, in the official note, are represented as affording us, from his personal character, the surest pledge of peace? We are told, this is his second attempt at general pacification. Let us see, for a moment, how this second attempt has been conducted. There THE OBATOR. 75 is, indeed, as the learned gentleman has said, a word in the first declaration which refers to general peace, and which states this to be the second time in which the Consul has endea- voured to accomplish that object. "We thought fit, for the reasons which have been assigned, to decline altogether the proposal of treating, under the present circumstances ; but we, at the same time, expressly stated that, whenever the moment for treaty should arrive, we would in no case treat but in conjunction with our allies. Our general refusal to negotiate at the present moment did not prevent the Consul from renewing his overtures ; but were they renewed for the purpose of general pacification? Though he had hinted at general peace in the terms of his first note ; though we had shown, by our answer, that we deemed negotiation, even for general peace, at this moment inad- missible; though we added that even at any future period we would treat only in conjunc- tion with our allies ; what was the proposal contained in his last note ? To treat, not for general peace, but for a separate peace between Great Britain and France. Such was the second attempt to effect general pacification : a proposal for a separate treaty with Great Britain. What had been the first ? The conclusion of a separate treaty with Austria; and, in addition to this fact, there are two anecdotes connected with the conclu- sion of this treaty, which are sufficient to illus- trate the disposition of this pacificator of Europe. This very treaty of Campo Formio * was ostentatiously professed to be concluded with the Emperor for the purpose of enabling Buonaparte to take the command of the army of England, and to dictate a separate peace with this country on the banks of the Thames. But there is this additional circumstance, sin- gular beyond all conception, considering that we are now referred to the treaty of Campo Formio as a proof of the personal disposition of the Consul to general peace : he sent his two confidential and chosen friends, Berthier and Monge, charged to communicate to the Direc- tory this treaty of Campo Formio ; to announce to them that one enemy was humbled, that the war with Austria was terminated, and, there- fore, that now was the moment to prosecute their operations against this country. They used, on this occasion, the memorable words, " The Kingdom of Great Britain and the French Bepitblic cannot exist togetJier." This, I say, was the solemn declaration of the deputies and ambassadors of Buonaparte himself, offering to the Directory the firstfruits of this first attempt at general pacification. So much for his disposition towards general pacification : let us look next at the part he * Signed March 17, 1797. has taken in the different stages of the French revolution, and let us then judge whether we are to look to him as the security against revolutionary principles ; let us determine what reliance we can place on his engagements with other countries, when we see how he has observed his engagements to his own. When the constitution of the third year was estab- lished under Barras, that constitution was imposed by the arms of Buonaparte, then com- manding the army of the Triumvirate in Paris. To that constitution he then swore fidelity. How often he has repeated the same oath I know not ; but twice, at least, we know that he has not only repeated it himself, but tendered it to others, under circumstances too striking not to be stated. Sir, the House cannot have forgotten the revolution of the 4th of September, which produced the dismissal of Lord Malmesbury from Lisle. How was that revolution procured ? It was procured chiefly by the promise of Buonaparte (in the name of his army) decidedly to support the Directory in those measures which led to the infringement and violation of everything that the authors of the constitution of 1795, or its adherents, could consider as fundamental, and which established a system of despotism inferior only to that now realized in his own person. Immediately before this event, in the midst of the desolation and bloodshed of Italy, he had received the sacred present of new banners from the Directory ; he delivered them to his army with this exhortation : " Let us swear, fellow-soldiers, by the manes of the patriots who have died by our side, eternal hatred to the enemies of the constitution of the third year : " that very constitution which he soon after enabled the Directory to violate, and which, at the head of his grenadiers, he has now finally destroyed. Sir, that oath was again renewed, in the midst of that very scene to which I have last referred : the oath of fidelity to the constitution of the third year was administered to all the members of the assembly then sitting (under the terror of the bayonet), as the solemn preparation for the business of the day; and the morning was ushered in with swearing attachment to the constitution, that the evening might close with its destruction. If we carry our views out of France, and look at the dreadful catalogue of all the breaches of treaty, all the acts of perfidy at which I have only glanced, and which are precisely commen- surate with the number of treaties which the republic has made (for I have sought in vain for any one which it has made, and which it has not broken) ; if we trace the history of them all from the beginning of the revolution to the present time, or if we select those which have been accompanied by the most atrocious cruelty, 76 THE ORATOR. and marked the most strongly with the cha- racteristic features of the revolution, the name of Buonaparte will be found allied to more of them than that of any other that can be handed down in the histoiy of the crimes and miseries of the last ten years. His name will be recorded with the horrors committed in Italy, in the memorable campaign of 1796 and 1797, in the Milanese, in Genoa, in Modena, in Tuscany, in Rome, and in Venice. His entrance into Lombardy was announced by a solemn proclamation, issued on the 27th of April, 1796, which terminated with these words : " Nations of Italy ! the French army is come to break your chains ; the French are the friends of the people in every country; your religion, your property, your customs shall be respected." This was followed by a second pro- clamation, dated from Milan, 20th of May, and signed "Buonaparte," in these terms: "Respect for property and personal security, respect for the religion of countries ; these are the senti- ments of the government of the French republic, and of the army of Italy. The French, vic- torious, consider the nations of Lombardy as their brothers." In testimony of this fraternity, and to fulfil the solemn pledge of respecting property, this veiy proclamation imposed on the Milanese a provisional contribution to the amount of twenty millions of livres, or near one million sterling ; and successive exactions were afterwards levied on that single State to the amount, in the whole, of near six millions sterling. The regard to religion and to the customs of the country was manifested with the same scrupulous fidelity. The churches were given up to indiscriminate plunder. Every religious and charitable fund, every public trea- sure, was confiscated. The country was made the scene of every species of disorder and rapine. The priests, the established form of worship, all the objects of religious reverence, were openly insulted by the French troops ; at Pavia, par- ticularly, the tomb of St. Augustine, which the inhabitants were accustomed to view with pe- culiar veneration, was mutilated and defaced. This last provocation having roused the resent- ment of the people, they flew to arms, sur- rounded the French garrison, and took them pi-isoners, but carefully abstained from offering any violence to a single soldier. In revenge for this conduct, Buonaparte, then on his march to the Mincio, suddenly returned, collected his troops, and carried the extremity of military execution over the country : he burnt the town of Benasco, and massacred eight hundred of its inhabitants ; he marched to Pavia, took it by storm, and delivered it over to general plunder, and published, at the same moment, a procla- mation, of the 26th of May, ordering his troops to shoot all those who had not laid down their arms, and taken an oath of obedience, and to bum every village where the tocsin should be sounded, and to put its inhabitants to death. The transactions with Modena were on a smaller scale, but in the same character. Buona- parte began by signing a treaty, by which the Duke of Modena was to pay twelve millions of livres, and neutrality was promised him in return ; this was soon followed by the personal arrest of the duke, and by a fresh extortion of two hundred thousand sequins ; after this he was permitted, on the payment of a further sum, to sign another treaty, called a Conventicai de Surete, which was of course only the prelude to the repetition of similar exactions. Nearly at the same period, in violation of the rights of neutrality, and of the treaty which had been concluded between the French republic and the Grand Duke of Tuscany in the preced- ing year, and in breach of a positive promise given only a few days before, the French army forcibly took possession of Leghorn, for the purpose of seizing the British property which was deposited there, and confiscating it as prize; and shortly after, when Buonaparte agreed to evacuate Leghorn in return for the evacuation of the Island of Elbe, which was in the possession of the British troops, he insisted upon a sepa- rate article, by which, in addition to the plunder before obtained by the infraction of the law of nations, it was stipulated that the Grand Duke should pay to the French the expense which they had incurred by this invasion of his territory. In the proceedings towards Genoa we shall find not only a continuation of the same system of extortion and plunder (in violation of the solemn pledge contained in the proclamations already referred to), but a striking instance of the revolutionary means employed for the destruction of independent governments. A French minister was at that time resident at Genoa, which was acknowledged by France to be in a state of neutrality and friendship. In breach of this neutrality, Buonaparte began, in the year 1796, with the demand of a loan ; he afterwards, from the month of September, re- quired and enforced the payment of a monthly subsidy, to the amount which he thought proper to stipulate ; these exactions were accompanied by repeated assurances and protestations of friendship ; they were followed, in May, 1797, by a conspiracy against the government, fo- mented by the emissaries of the French embassy, and conducted by the partisans of France, encouraged, and afterwards protected, by the French minister. The conspirators failed in their first attempt ; overpowered by the courage and voluntary exertions of the inhabitants, their force was dispersed, and many of their number were arrested. Buonaparte instantly considered the defeat of the conspirators as an act of aggression against the French republic ; THE ORATOR. 77 he dispatched an aide-de-camp with an order to the Senate of this independent state ; first, to release all the French who were detained ; secondly, to punish those who had arrested them ; thirdly, to declare that they had no share in the insurrection ; and fourthly, to dis- arm the people. Several French prisoners were immediately released, and a proclamation was preparing to disarm the inhabitants, when, by a second note, Buonaparte required the arrest of the three Inquisitors of State, and immediate alterations i:<. the constitution; he accompanied this with an order to the French minister to quit Genoa if his commands were not immediately can-led into execution ; at the same moment his troops entered the territory of the republic, and shortly after the councils, intimidated and overpowered, abdicated their functions. Three deputies were then sent to Buonaparte to receive from him a new consti- tution : on the 6th of June, after the conferences at Montebello, he signed a convention, or rather issued a decree, by which he fixed the new form of their government ; he himself named pro- visionally all the members who were to compose it, and he required the payment of seven mil- lions of livres, as the price of the subversion of their constitution and their independence. These transactions require but one short com- ment : it is to be found in the official account given of them at Paris, which is in these memorable words : " General Buonaparte has pursued the only line of conduct which could be allowed in the representative of a nation, which has supported the war only to procure the solemn acknowledgment of the right of nations to change the form of their government. He contributed nothing towards the revolution of Genoa, but he seized the first moment to acknowledge the new government, as soon as he saw that it was the result of the wishes of the people." It is unnecessary to dwell on the wanton attacks against Rome under the direction of Buonaparte himself, in the year 1796, and in the beginning of 1797, which led first to the treaty of Tolentino, concluded by Buonaparte, in which, by enormous sacrifices, the Pope was allowed to purchase the acknowledgment of his authority as a sovereign prince ; and secondly, to the violation of that very treaty, and to the subversion of the Papal authority by Joseph Buonaparte, the brother and the agent of the general, and the minister of the Freneh republic to the Holy See. A transaction accompanied by outrages and insults towards the pious and venerable Pontiff (in spite of the sanctity of his age and the unsullied purity of his character), which even to a Protestant seemed hardly short of the guilt of sacrilege. But of all the disgusting and tragical scenes which took place in Italy, in the course of the period I am describing, those which passed at Venice are perhaps the most striking and the most characteristic. In May, 1796, the French army, under Buonaparte, in the full tide of its success against the Austrians, first approached the territories of this republic, which, from the commencement of the war, had observed a rigid neutralit} r . Their entrance on these ter- ritories was, as usual, accompanied by a solemn proclamation in the name of their general. " Buonaparte to the Republic of Venice. It is to deliver the finest country in Europe from the iron yoke of the proud house of Austria, that the French army has braved obstacles the most difficult to surmount. Victory in union with justice has crowned its efforts. The wreck of the enemy's army has retired behind the Mincio. The French army, in order to follow them, passes over the territory of the Republic of Venice ; but it will never forget that ancient friendship unites the two republics. Religion, government, customs, and property shall be respected. That the people may be without apprehension, the most severe discipline shall be maintained. All that may be provided for the army shall be faithfully paid for in money. The general-in-chief engages the officers of the Republic of Venice, the magistrates, and the priests, to make known these sentiments to the people, in order that confidence may cement that friendship which has so long united the two nations, faithful in the path of honour as in that of victory. The French soldier is terrible only to the enemies of his liberty and his government. Buonaparte." This proclamation was followed by exactions similar to those which were practised against Genoa, by the renewal of similar professions of friendship, and the use of similar means to excite insurrections. At length, in the spring of 1797, occasion was taken from disturbances thus excited, to forge, in the name of the Venetian government, a proclamation hostile to France : and this proceeding was made the ground for military execution against the country, and for effecting by force the subversion of its ancient government, and the establishment of the de- mocratic forms of the French Revolution. This revolution was sealed by a treaty, signed in May, 1797, between Buonaparte and commis- sioners appointed on the part of the new and revolutionary government of Venice. By the second and third secret articles of this treaty, Venice agreed to give as a ransom, to secure itself against all farther exactions or demands, the sum of three millions of livres in money, the value of three millions more in articles of naval supply, and three ships of the line ; and it received in return the assurances of the friendship and support of the French republic. Immediately after the sig- nature of this treaty, the arsenal, the library, and the Palace of St. Marc, were ransacked and 78 THE ORATOR. plundered, and heavy additional contributions were imposed upon its inhabitants ; and, in not more than four months afterwards, this very republic of Yenice, united by alliance to France, the creature of Buonaparte himself, from whom it had received the present of French liberty, was by the same Buonaparte transferred, under the treaty of Campo Formio, to "that iron yoke of the proud house of Austria," to deliver it from which he had represented, in his first proclamation, to be the great object of all his [.operations. ' 'i Sir, all this is followed by the memorable , expedition into Egypt, which I mention, not merely because it forms a principal article in the catalogue of those acts of violence and perfidy in which Buonaparte has been engaged ; not merely because it was an enterprise pecu- liarly his own, of which he was himself the planner, the executor, and the betrayer ; but chiefly because, when from thence he retires to a different scene to take possession of a new throne, from which he is to speak upon an equality with the kings and governors of Europe, he leaves behind him, at the moment of his departure, a specimen, which cannot be mistaken, of his principles of negotiation. The intercepted correspondence, which has been alluded to in this debate, seems to afford the strongest ground to believe that his offers to the Turkish government to evacuate Egypt were made solely with a view " to gain time ; " that the ratification of any treaty on this sub- ject was to be delayed, with the view of finally eluding its performance, if any change of cir- cumstances favourable to the French should occur in the interval. But whatever gentlemen may think of the intention with which these offers were made, there will at least be no ques- tion with respect to the credit due to those professions by which he endeavoured to prove, in Egypt, his pacific dispositions. He expressly enjoins his successor strongly and steadily to insist in all his intercourse with the Turks, that he came to Egypt with no hostile design, and that he never meant to keep possession of the country ; while, on the opposite page of the same instructions, he states in the most unequivocal manner his regret at the discomfiture of his favourite project of colonizing Egypt, and of maintaining it as a territorial acquisition. Now, sir, if in any note addressed to the Grand Vizier, or the Sultan, Buonaparte had claimed credit for the sincerity of his professions, that he forcibly invaded Egypt with no view hostile to Turkey, and solely for the purpose of molest- ing the British interests ; is there any one ar- gument now used to induce us to believe his present professions to us, which might not have been equally urged on that occasion to the Turkish Government ? Would not those pro- fessions have been equally supported by solemn asseverations, by the same reference which is now made to personal character, with this single difference, that they would then have been ac- companied with one instance less of that per- fidy, which we have had occasion to trace in this very transaction ? It is unnecessary to say more with respect to the credit due to his professions, or the reliance to be placed on his general character : but it will, perhaps, be argued, that, whatever may be his character, or whatever has been his past conduct, he has now an interest in making and preserving peace. That he has an interest in making peace is at best but a doubtful pro- position, and that he has an interest in pre- serving it is still more uncertain. That it is his interest to negotiate, I do not indeed deny : it is his interest above all to engage this country in separate negotiation, in order to loosen and dissolve the whole system of confederacy on the Continent ; to palsy, at once, the arms of Russia or of Austria, or of any other country that might look to you for support ; and then either to break off his separate treaty, or, if he should have concluded it, to apply the lesson which is taught in his school of policy in Egypt ; and to revive, at his pleasure, those claims of indem- nification which may have been reserved to some happier period. This is precisely the interest which he has in negotiation ; but on what grounds are we to be convinced that he has an interest in concluding and observing a solid and permanent pacifica- tion ? Under all the circumstances of his per- sonal character, and his newly-acquired power, what other security has he for retaining that power but the sword ? His hold upon France is the sword, and he has no other. Is he con- nected with the soil, or with the habits, the affections, or the prejudices of the country? He is a stranger, a foreigner, and an usurper ; he unites in his own person everything that a pure republican must detest; everything that an enraged Jacobin has abjured; everything that a sincere and faithful Royalist must feel as an insult. If he is opposed at any time in his career, what is his appeal ? He appeals to his fortune ; in other words, to his army and his sword. Placing, then, his whole reliance upon military support, can he afford to let his mili- tary renown pass away, to let his laurels wither, to let the memory of his achievements sink in obscurity ? Is it certain that with his army confined within France, and restrained from inroads upon her neighbours, he can maintain, at his devotion, a force sufficiently numerous to support his power ? Having no object but the possession of absolute dominion, no passion but military glory, is it certain that he can feel such an interest in permanent peace as would justify us in laying clown our arms, reducing our ex- pense, and relinquishing our means of security, on THE ORATOR. 79 the faith of his engagements P Do we believe that after the conclusion of peace he would not still sigh over the lost trophies of Egypt, wrested from him by the celebrated victory of Aboukir, and the brilliant exertions of that heroic band of British seamen, whose influence and example rendered the Turkish troops invin- cible at Acre ? Can he forget that the effect of these exploits enabled Austria and Russia, in one campaign, to recover from France all which she had acquired by his victories, to dissolve the charm which, for a time, fascinated Europe, and to show that their generals, contending in a just cause, could efface, even by their success and their military glory, the most dazzling triumphs of his victories and desolating ambition P Can we believe, with these impressions on his mind, that if, after a year, eighteen months, or two years, of peace had elapsed, he should be tempted by the appearance of a fresh insur- rection in Ireland, encouraged by renewed and unrestrained communication with France, and fomented by the fresh infusion of Jacobin prin- ciples ; if we were at such a moment without a fleet to watch the ports of France, or to guard the coasts of Ireland, without a disposable army, or an embodied militia, capable of sup- plying a speedy and adequate reinforcement, and that he had suddenly the means of trans- porting thither a body of twenty or thirty thousand French troops; can we believe that at such a moment his ambition and vindictive spirit would be restrained by the recollection of engagements, or the obligation of treaty ? Or, if in some new crisis of difficulty and danger to the Ottoman empire, with no British navy in the Mediterranean, no confederacy formed, no force collected to support it, an opportunity should present itself for resuming the aban- doned expedition to Egypt, for renewing the avowed and favourite project of conquering and colonizing that rich and fertile country, and of opening the way to wound some of the vital interests of England, and to plunder the trea- sures of the East, in order to fill the bankrupt coffers of France, would it be the interest of Buonaparte, under such circumstances, or his principles, his moderation, his love of peace, his aversion to conquest, and his regard for the independence of other nations would it be all, or any' of these that would secure us against an attempt, which would leave us only the option of submitting without a struggle to certain loss and disgrace, or of renewing the contest which we had prematurely terminated, and renewing it without allies, without preparation, with diminished means, and with increased difficulty and hazard ? Hitherto I have spoken only of the reliance which we can place on the professions, the cha- racter, and the conduct of the present First Consul ; but it remains to consider the stability of his power. The revolution has been marked throughout by a rapid succession of new depo- sitaries of public authority, each supplanting his predecessor : what grounds have we as yet to believe that this new usurpation, more odious and more undisguised than all that pre- ceded it, will be more durable P Is it that we rely on the particular provisions contained in the code of the pretended constitution, which was proclaimed as accepted by the French people, as soon as the garrison of Paris de- 1 -. clared their determination to exterminate all its* enemies, and before any of its articles could even be known to half the country, whose' con- sent was required for its establishment ? I will not pretend to inquire deeply into the nature and effects of a constitution, which can. hardly be regarded but as a farce and a mockery. If, however, it could be supposed that its pro- visions were to have any effect, it seems equally adapted to two purposes ; that of giving to its founder, for a time, an absolute and uncontrolled authority, and that of laying the certain foun- dation of future disunion and discord, which, if they once prevail, must render the exercise of all the authority under the constitution impos- sible, and leave no appeal but to the sword. Is then military despotism that which we are accustomed to consider as a stable form of government ? In all ages of the world it has been attended with the least stability to the persons who exercised it, and with the most rapid succession of changes and revolutions. The advocates of the French Revolution boasted, in its outset, that by their new system they had furnished a security for ever, not to France only, but to all countries in the world, against* military despotism ; that the force of standing armies was vain and delusive ; that no artificial power could resist public opinion ; and that it was upon the foundation of public opinion alone that any government could stand. I believe that, in this instance, as in every other, the progress of the French Revolution has belied its professions ; but so far from its being a proof of the prevalence of public opinion against military force, it is, instead of the proof, the strongest exception from that doctrine which appears in the history of the world. Through all the stages of the revolution military force has governed ; public opinion has scarcely been heard. But still I consider this as only an ex- ception from a general truth ; I still believe that, in every civilized country (not enslaved by a Jacobin faction), public opinion is the only sure support of any government. I believe this with the more satisfaction, from a convic- tion that if this contest is happily terminated, the established governments of Europe will stand upon that rock firmer than ever; and whatever may be the defects of any particular 80 THE OEATOE. constit ition, those who live under it will prefer its continuance to the experiment of changes which may plunge them in the unfathomable abyss of revolution, or extricate them from it, only to expose them to the terrors of military despotism. And to apply this to France, I see no reason to believe that the present usurpation will be more permanent than any other military despotism, which has been established by the same means, and with the same defiance of public opinion. What, then, is the inference I draw from all that I have now stated ? Is it that we will in no case treat with Buonaparte ? I say no such thing. But I say, as has been said in the answer returned to the French note, that we ought to wait for experience, and tlie evidence of facts, before we are convinced that such a treaty is admissible. The circumstances I have stated would well justify us if we should be slow in being convinced : but, on a question of peace and war, everything depends upon de- gree, and upon comparison. If, on the one hand, there should be an appearance that the policy of France is at length guided by different maxims from those which have hitherto pre- vailed ; if we should hereafter see signs of stability in the government, which are not now to be traced ; if the progress of the allied army should not call forth such a spirit in France, as to make it probable that the act of the country itself will destroy the system now prevailing ; if the danger, the difficulty, the risk of continuing the contest, should increase, while the hope of complete ultimate success should be diminished ; all these, in their due place, are considerations which, with myself and (I can answer for it) with every one of my colleagues, will have their just weight. But at present these considera- tions all operate one way ; at present there is nothing from which we can presage a favour- able disposition to change in the French coun- cils. There is the greatest reason to rely on powerful co-operation from our allies ; there are the strongest marks of a disposition in the interior of France to active resistance against this new tyranny ; and there is every ground to believe, on reviewing our situation, and that of the enemy, that if we are ultimately dis- appointed of that complete success which we are at present entitled to hope, the continuance of the contest, instead of making our situation comparatively worse, will have made it com- paratively better. If, then, I am asked, how long are we to persevere in the war ? I can only say that no period can be accurately assigned beforehand. Considering the importance of obtaining com- plete security for the objects for which we contend, we ought not to be discouraged too soon : but on the other hand, considering the importance of not impairing and exhausting the radical strength of the country, there are limits beyond which we ought not to persist, and which we can determine only by estimating and comparing fairly, from time to time, the degree of security to be obtained by treaty, and the risk and disadvantage of continuing the contest. LOED PLUNKET. Born 1764. Died 1854. [ROBERT EMMET, at whose trial the following speech was delivered, was the son of an eminent physician, who himself was known to be in principle a violent antagonist to the Union. Robert's brother had formed one of the band of the United Irishmen, who formed the Irish Rebellion of 1798, and Robert himself was expelied from the University of Dublin for political intrigues. There is no doubt that Emmet had great hopes of being aided by the French in his scheme for establish- ing an independent government, and possibly received promises on the subject during his stay on the Conti- nent after leaving Dublin, as he is known to have had interviews with Buonaparte and Talleyrand. However this might be, and whatever may have been his hopes of success, there is no doubt that his schemes were wild and undigested, and that he did not meet with the assistance which he expected from his friends. Added to the folly, to use no worse term, of his plans, his temper was so rash and inconsiderate, and his reso- lution aucl obstinacy so determined, that at the head of about 80 men he commenced his proceedings with a demonstration in Dublin, on the 23rd of July, 1803. The murder of Viscount Kilwarden and his nephew, who unfortunately encountered the insurgents in their march, and a few skirmishes with the soldier}', were tha beginning and end of this foolish conspiracy. The ringleaders, Roche, Kearney, Kirwan, Rourke, Redmond, Russel, and Emmet suffered death for their treason. The youth, bravery, and elevated spirit of Emmet ; the undaunted resolution which he showed on his trial, and the eloquent speech which he then delivered, have caused him to be considered as little less than a martyr by his countr3 T men, and have won him sympathy from people of all nations and principles wherever his short, sad, foolish history has been told. As Mr. Hoey, the editor of the collection of Plunket's speeches, from which the following extract is taken, well and eloquently observes : " The life of Robert Emmet is one of the most affect- ing episodes in Irish history. Of all the United Irish- men, there is not one who has left a memory invested with so much sympathy at home and abroad. His last speech has been ever since his death a gospel of rebel- lion against England. Even in the American schools it is as popular a recitative as Patrick Henry's defiances ; and Robert Emmet trampling on the British crown figured as often on a western signboard, thirty years ago, as General Jackson. There was such purity, chivalry, and devotion in his nature his life, his love, his death, are full of a romance so true and so touching that in thinking of him, men unconsciously elevate his character above the poor failure an hour's scuffle with the police and the picquet, stained by an atrocious murder which history asserts his insurrection to have been. They wonder how that wild attempt can have won for its leader a character like Bayard's ; but so it is." Emmet was tried before a special commission, pre- sided over by Lord Norbury, on the 19th of September, 1803, and he was executed on the following day. His speech before alluded to will be found following that of his prosecutor.] TRIAL OF EGBERT EMMET. MY LOEDS and gentlemen of the jurry, you need not entertain any apprehension that at this hour of the day I am disposed to THE OKATOE, 81 take up a great deal of your time, by observing upon the evidence which has been given. In truth, if this were an ordinary case, and if the object of this prosecution did not include some more momentous interests than the mere ques- tion of the guilt or innocence of the unfortu- nate gentleman who stands a prisoner at the bar, I should have followed the example of his counsel, and should have declined making any observation upon the evidence. But, gentle- men, I do feel this to be a case of infinite importance indeed. It is a case important, like all others of this kind, by involving the life of a fellow-subject ; but it is doubly and ten- fold important, because from the evidence which has been given in the progress of it, the system of this conspiracy against the laws and con- stitution of the country has been developed in all its branches ; and in observing upon the conduct of the prisoner at the bar, and in bringing home the evidence of his guilt, I am bringing home guilt to a person who, I say, is the centre, the life-blood and soul of this atro- cious conspiracy. * # # # Gentlemen, what was the part which the prisoner took in that night of horror I will not attempt to insinuate to you. I hope and trust in God, for the sake of himself, his fame, his eternal welfare, that he was incapable of being a [party to the barbarities which were com- mitted I do not mean to insinuate that he was but that he headed this troop, and was present while some shots were fired, has been proved by uncontroverted testimony. At what time he quitted them whether from prudence, despair, or disgust, he retired from their bands, is not proved by evidence upon the table ; but from the moment of the discomfiture of his project, we find him again concealed. We trace him with the badges of rebellion glitter- ing upon his person, attended by the t\yo other consuls, Quigley, the bricklayer, and Dowdall, the clerk whether for concealment or to sti- mulate the wretched peasantry to other acts of insurrection, you will determine ; we first trace him to Doyle's and then to Bagnall's ; one identifies him, the other, from her fears, is inca- pable of doing so. But the same party, in the same uniforms, go to her house, until the apprehension of detection drove them from her. When he could no longer find shelter in the mountains, nor stir up the inhabitants of them, he again retires to- his former obscure lodging, the name of Ellis is abandoned, the regimental coat is abandoned, and again he assumes the name of Hewitt. What is his conduct in this concealment ? He betrays his apprehensions of being taken tip by government. For what ? Has any explanation been given to show what it could be, unless for rebellious practices P There he plans a mode of escape, refusing to KO. XI. put his name upon the door. You find him taken a reluctant prisoner, twice attempting to escape, and only brought within the reach of the law by force and violence. What do you find then ? Has he been affecting to disguise his object, or that his plan waa less dignified than his motive that of treason? No such thing. He tells young Palmer that he was in Thomas Street that night he confesses the treason he boasts of his uniform, part of which was upon his person when he was taken. He acknowledges all this to the yomng man in the house a witness, permit me fto remark, not carried away by any excess of pver-zeal to say anything to the injury of th^j prisoner, and therefore to his testimony, so far as it affects the prisoner, you may, with a feafe conscience, afford a reasonable degree of credit. Under what circumstances is he taken? In the room in which lie was upon a chair near the door is found an address to the government of the country ; and in the very first paragraph of that address, the composer of it acknow- ledges himself to be at the head of a conspiracy for the overthrow of the government, which he addresses, telling them, in diplomatic language, what conduct the undersigned will be compelled to adopt, if they shall presume to execute the law. He is the leader, whose nod is a fiat, and he warns them of the consequences ! Gentlemen of the jury, you will decide whe- ther the prisoner at the bar or Mrs. Palmer was the person who denounced those terms, and this vengeance against the government. What is found upon him ? A letter written by a brother conspirator consulting him upon the present posture of the rebellion, their future prospects, and the probability of French assist- ance, and also the probable effects of that assistance, if it should arrive. What farther is found at the depot ? and everything found there, whether coming out of the desk which he appears to have used and resorted to, or in any other part of the place which he com- manded, is evidence against him. You find a treatise upon the art of war, framed for the purpose of drilling the party who were employed to effect this rebellion ; but of war they have proved that they are incapable of knowing anything but its ferocities and its crimes ; you find two proclamations, detailing systematically and precisely the views and objects of this con- spiracy ; and you find a manuscript copy of one of them, with interlineations, and other marks of its being an original draft. It will be for you to consider who was the framer of it the man who presided in the depot, and regulated all the proceedings there ; or whether it was framed by Dowdall, the clerk, by Quigley, the bricklayer, or by Stafford, the baker, or any of the illiterate victims of the ambition of this young man who have been convicted in this 82 THE OBATOB court, or whether it did not flow from his pen, and was dictated by his heart. Gentlemen, with regard to this mass of accu- mulated evidence, forming irrefragable proof of the guilt of the prisoner, I conceive no man capable of putting together two ideas can have a doubt. Why then do I address you, or why should I trespass any longer upon your time and your attention? Because, as I have al- ready mentioned, I feel this to be a case of great public expectation of the very last national importance ; and because, when I am prosecuting a man, in whose veins the very- life-blood of this conspiracy flowed, I expose to the public eye the utter meanness and insuffi- ciency of its resources. What does it avow itself to be? A plan, not to correct the ex- .cesses or reform the abuses of the government of the country ; not to remove any specks of imperfection which might have grown upon the surface of the constitution, or to restrain the overgrown power of the crown ; or to restore any privilege of parliament ; or to throw any new security around the liberty of the subject. No ; but it plainly and boldly avows itself to be a plan to separate Great Britain from Ire- land, uproot the monarchy, and establish " a free and independent republic in Ireland," in its place ! To sever the connection between Great Britain and Ireland ! Gentlemen, I should feel it a waste of words and of public time, were I addressing you or any person within the limits of my voice, to talk of the frantic desperation of the plan of any man who speculates upon the dissolution of that empire, whose glory and whose happiness depend upon its indissoluble connection. But were it practicable to sever that connection, to untie the links which bind us to the British constitution, and to turn us adrift upon the turbulent ocean of revolution, who could answer for the existence of this country, as an independent power, for a year? God and nature have made the two countries essential to each other let them cling to each other to the end of time, and their united affection and loyalty will be proof against the machinations of the world. But how was this to be done ? By estab- lishing " a free and independent republic ! " High-sounding name! I would ask, whether the man who used it understood what he meant? I will not ask what may be its benefits, for I know its evils. There is no magic in the name. We have heard of " free and independent republics," and have since seen the most abject slavery that ever groaned under iron despotism growing out of them. Formerly, gentlemen of the jury, we have seen revolutions effected by some great call of the people, ripe for change and unfitted by their habits for ancient forms; but here from the obscurity of concealment and by the voice of that pigmy authority, self-created and fearing to show itself, but in arms under cover of the night, we are called upon to surrender a con- stitution which has lasted for a period of one thousand years. Had any body of the people come forward, stating any grievance or an- nouncing their demand for a change ? No ; but while the country is peaceful, enjoying the blessings of the constitution, growing rich and happy under it, a few desperate, obscure, con- temptible adventurers in the trade of revolution form a scheme against the constituted autho- rities of the land, and by force and violence to overthrow an ancient and venerable constitu- tion, and to plunge a whole people into the horrors of civil war ! If the wisest head that ever lived had framed the wisest system of laws which human inge- nuity could devise if he were satisfied that the system were exactly fitted to the disposition of the people for whom he intended it, and that a great proportion of that people were anxious for its adoption yet give me leave to say, that under all these circumstances of fitness and disposition, a well-judging mind and a humane heart would pause awhile and stop upon the brink of his purpose, before he would hazard the peace of the country, by resorting to force for the establishment of his system ; but here, in the frenzy of a distempered ambition, the author of this proclamation conceives the pro- ject of " a free and independent republic ; " he at once flings it down, and he tells every man in the community, rich or poor, loyal or dis- loyal, he must adopt it at the peril of being considered an enemy to the country, and of suffering the pains and penalties attendant thereupon. And how was this revolution to be effected ? The proclamation conveys an insinuation that it was to be effected by their own force, entirely independent of foreign assistance. Why P Because it was well known that there remained in this country few so depraved, so lost to the welfare of their native land, who would not shudder at forming an alliance with France ; and therefore the people of Ireland are told, " the effort is to be entirely your own, inde- pendent of foreign aid." But how does this tally with the time when the scheme was first hatched the veiy period of the commencement of the war with France ? How does this tally with the fact of consulting in the depot about co-operating with the French, which has been proved in evidence ? But, gentlemen, out of the proclamation I convict him of duplicity. He tells the government of the country not to resist their mandate, or think that they can effectually suppress rebellion, by putting down the present attempt, but that " they will have to crush a greater exertion, rendered still greater by foreign assistance ; " so that upon THE ORATOR. 83 the face of the proclamation they avowed, in its naked deformity, the abominable plan of an alliance with the usurper of the French throne, to overturn the ancient constitution of the land, and to substitute a new republic in its place. Gentlemen, so far I have taken up your time with observing upon the nature and extent of the conspiracy ; its objects and the means by which they proposed to effectuate them. Let me now call your attention to the pretexts by which they seek to support them. They have not stated what particular grievance or oppres- sion is complained of, but they have travelled back into the history of six centuries they have raked up the ashes of former cruelties and rebellions, and upon the memory of them, they call upon the good people of this country to embark into similar troubles ; but they forget to tell the people, that until the infection of new-fangled French principles was introduced, this country was for an hundred years free from the slightest symptom of rebellion, ad- vancing in improvement of every kind beyond any example, while the former animosities of the country were melting down into a general S} r stem of philanthropy and cordial attachment to each other. They forget to tell the people whom they address that they have been enjoy- ing the benefit of equal laws, by which the property, the person, and constitutional rights and privileges of eveiy man are abundantly protected. They have not pointed out a single instance of oppression. Give me leave to ask any man who may have suffered himself to be deluded by those enemies of the law, what is there to prevent the exercise of honest industry and enjoying the produce of it? Does any man presume to invade him in the enjoyment of his property ? If he does, is not the punish- ment of the law brought down upon him? What does he want ? What is it that any rational friend to freedom could expect, that the people of this country are not fully and amply in the possession of? And therefore when those idle stories are told of six hundred years' oppression, and of rebellions prevailing when this country was in a state of ignorance and barbarism, and which have long since passed away, they are utterly destitute of a fact to rest upon; they are a fraud upon feeling, and are the pretext of the factious and ambitious, working upon credulity and ignorance. Let me allude to another topic : they call for revenge on account of the removal of the par- liament. Those men who, in 1798, endeavoured to destroy the parliament, now call upon the loyal men, who opposed its transfer, to join them in rebellion ; an appeal vain and fruitless. Look around and see with what zeal and loyalty they rallied round the throne and constitution of the country. Whatever might have been the difference of opinion heretofore among Irishmen upon gome points, when armed rebels appeared against the laws and public peace, every minor difference was annihilated in the paramount claim of duty to our king and country. So much, gentlemen, for the nature of this conspiracy and the pretexts upon which it rests. Suffer me, for a moment, to call your attention to one or two of the edicts published by the conspirators. They have denounced, that if a single Irish soldier, or in more faithful description, Irish rebel, shall lose his life after the battle is over, quarter is neither to be given nor taken. Observe the equality of the reason- . ing of these promulgers of liberty and equality. The distinction is this : English troops are per- mitted to arm in defence of the government . and the constitution of the country, ant to maintain their allegiance ; but if an Irish sol- dier, yeoman, or other loyal person, who shall not within the space of fourteen days from the date and issuing forth of their sovereign pro- clamation, appear in arms with them ; if he presumes to obey the dictates of his conscience, his duty, and his interest if he has the hardi- hood to be loyal to his sovereign and his country, he is proclaimed a traitor, his life is forfeited, and his property is confiscated. A sacred pal- ladium is thrown over the rebel cause, while, in the same breath, undistinguishing vengeance is denounced against those who stand up in de- fence of the existing and ancient laws of the country. For God's sake, to whom are we called upon to deliver up, with only fourteen days to consider of it, all the advantages we enjoy ? Who are they who claim the obedience ? The prisoner is the principal : I do not wish to say anything harsh of him ; a young man of considerable talents, if used with precaution, and of respectable rank in society, if content to conform himself to its laws. But when he assumes the manner and the tone of a legis- lator, and calls upon all ranks of people, the instant the provisional government proclaim in the abstract a new government, without speci- fying what the new laws are to be, or how the people are to be conducted and managed but that the moment it is announced, the whole constituted authority is to yield to him ; it becomes an extravagance bordering upon frenzy: this is going beyond the example of all former times. If a rightful sovereign were restored, he would forbear to inflict punishment upon those who submitted to the king de facto, but here there is no such forbearance. We who have lived under a king, not only de facto but de jure in possession of the throne, are called upon to submit ourselves to the prisoner to Dowdall, the vagrant politician to the bricklayer, to the baker, the old-clothes-man, the hodman, and the ostler. These are the persons to whom THE OBATOB. this proclamation, in its majesty and dignity, calls upon a great people to yield obedience, and a powerful government to give " a prompt, manly, and sagacious acquiescence to their just and unalterable determination ! " " We call upon the British government not to be so mad as to oppose us." Why, gentlemen, this goes beyond all serious discussion ; and I mention it merely to show the contemptible nature of this conspiracy, which hoped to have set the entire country in a flame. When it was joined by nineteen counties from north to south, catching the electrical spark of revolution, they engaged in the conspiracy the general, with his lieu- tenant-general, putting himself at the head of the forces, collected not merely from the city, but from the neighbouring counties ; and when all their strength is collected, voluntary and forced, they are stopped in their progress, in the first glow of their valour, by the honest voice of a single peace officer, at which the provincial forces were disconcerted and alarmed, but ran like hares, when one hundred soldiers appeared against them. Gentlemen, why do I state these facts ? Is it to show that the government need not be vigilant, or that our gallant countrymen should relax in their exertions ? By no means ; but to induce the miserable victims who have been misled by those phantoms of revolutionary delu- sion, to show them that they ought to lose no time in abandoning a cause which cannot pro- tect itself, and exposes them to destruction, and to adhere to the peaceful and secure habits of honest industry. If they knew it, they have no reason to repine at their lot. Providence is not so unkind to them in casting them in that humble walk in which they are placed. Let them obey the law and cultivate religion, and worship their God in their own way. They may prosecute their labour in peace and tran- quillity ; they need not envy the higher ranks of life, but may look with pity upon that vicious despot who watches with the sleepless eye of disquieting ambition, and sits a wretched usurper trembling upon the throne of the Bourbons. But I do not wish to awaken any remorse, except such as may be salutary to him- self and the countiy, in the mind of the pri- soner. But when he reflects that he has stooped from the honourable situation in which his birth, talents, and his education placed him, to debauch the minds of the lower orders of ignorant men with the phantoms of liberty and equality, he must feel that it was an unworthy use of his talents ; he should feel remorse for the consequences which ensued, grievous to humanity and virtue, and should endeavour to make all the atonement he can, by employing the little time which remains for him in endea- vouring to undeceive them. Liberty and equality are dangerous names to make use of; if properly understood, they mean enjoyment of personal freedom under the equal protection of the laws ; and a genuine love of liberty inculcates a friendship for our friends, our king, and country a reverence for their lives, an anxiety for their safety ; a feeling which advances from private to public life, until it expands and swells into the more dig- ^ified name of philanthropy and philosophy. But in the cant of modern philosophy, these affections which form the ennobling distinctions of man's nature are all thrown aside ; all the vices of his character are made the instrument of moral good an abstract quantity of vice may produce a certain quantity of moral good. To a man whose principles are thus poisoned and his judgment perverted the most flagitious crimes lose their names ; robbery and murder become moral good. He is taught not to startle at putting to death a fellow-creature, if it be represented as a mode of contributing to the good of all. In pursuit of those phantoms and chimeras of the brain, they abolish feelings and instincts, which God and nature have planted in our hearts for the good of human kind. Thus by the printed plan for the establishment of liberty and a free republic, murder is prohi- bited and proscribed ; and yet you heard how this caution against excesses was followed up by the recital of every grievance that ever existed, and which could excite every bad feel- ing of the heart, the most vengeful cruelty and insatiate thirst of blood. gentlemen, I am anxious to suppose that the mind of the prisoner recoiled at the scenes of murder which he witnessed, and I mention one circumstance with satisfaction : it appears he saved the life of Farrell ; and may the recollec- tion of that one good action cheer him in his last moments ! But though he may not have planned individual murders, that is no excuse to justify his embarking in treason, which must be followed by every species of crimes. It is supported by the rabble of the country, while the rank, the wealth, and the power of the country are opposed to it. Let loose the rabble of the country from the salutary restraints of the law, and who can take upon him to limit their barbarities ? Who can say, he will disturb the peace of the world and rule it when wildest? Let loose the winds of heaven, and what power less than omnipotent can control them ? So it is with the rabble ; let them loose, and who can restrain them ? What claim, then, can the prisoner have upon the compassion of a jury, because in the general destruction which his schemes necessarily produce he did not meditate individual murder ? /In the short space of a quarter of an hour, Jvhat a scene of blood and horror was exhibited ! I trust that the blood which has been shed in the streets of Dublin upon that night, and since upon the scaffold, THE ORATOR. 85 and which may hereafter be shed, will not be visited upon the head of the prisoner. It is not for me to say what are the limits of the mercy of God, or what a sincere repentance of those crimes may effect ; but I do say, that if this unfortunate young gentleman retains any of the seeds of humanity in his heart, oivwes- sesses any of those qualities which a virtuous education in a liberal seminary must have planted in his bosom, he will make an atone- ment to his God and his country, by employing whatever time remains to him in warning his deluded countiymen from persevering in their schemes. Much blood has been shed, and he perhaps would have been immolated by his followers if he had succeeded. They are a bloodthirsty crew, incapable of listening to the voice of reason, and equally incapable of obtain- ing rational freedom, if it were wanting in this country, as they are of enjoying it. They imbrue their hands in the most sacred blood of the country, and yet they call upon God to prosper their cause, as it is just ! But as it is atrocious, wicked, and abominable, I most de- voutly invoke that God to confound and over- whelm it. i SPEECH OF ROBERT EMMET. MY LORDS, What have I to say that sentence of death should not be passed on me according to law ? I have nothing to say that can alter your predetermination, nor that will become me to say, with any view to the mitigation of that sentence which you are here to pronounce, and I must abide by. But I have that to say, Avhich interests me more than life, and which you have laboured (as was necessarily your office in the present circum- stances of this oppressed countiy) to destroy. I have much to say, why my reputation should be rescued from the load of false accusation and calumny which has been heaped upon it. I do not imagine that, seated where you. are, your minds can be so free from impurity as to receive the least impression from what I am going to utter. I have no hopes that I can anchor my character in the breast of a Court constituted and trammelled as this is. I only wish, and it is the utmost I expect, that your Lordships may suffer it to float down your memories un- tainted by the foul breath of prejudice, until it finds some more hospitable harbour to shelter it from the, storm by which it is at present buffeted. S Were' I only to suffer death, after being adjudged guilty by your tribunal, I should bow in silence, and meet the fate that awaits me without a murmur ; but the sentence of the law which delivers my body to the executioner, will, through the ministry of that law, labour in its own vindication to consign my character to obloquy ; for there must be guilt somewhere, whether in the sentence of the Court or in the catastrophe, posterity must determine. A man in my situation, my lords, has not only to en- counter the difficulties of fortune, and the force of power over minds which it has corrupted or subjugated, but the difficulties of established prejudice ; the man dies, but his memory lives. That mine may not perish that it may live inr the respect of my countrymen, I seize upon this opportunity to vindicate myself from some of the charges alleged against me. When my spirit shall be wafted to a more friendly port when my shade shall have joined the bands of those martyred heroes who have shed their blood on the scaffold and in the field, in defence" of their country and of virtue, this is my hope- I wish that my memory and name may animate those who survive me, while I look down with complacency on the destruction of that perfidious Government which upholds its domination by the blasphemy of the Most High ; which displays its power over man as over the beasts of the forest ; which sets man upon his brother, and lifts his hand in the name of God, against the throat of his fellow who believes or doubts a little more than the Govern- ment standard a Government steeled to bar- barity by the cries of the orphans and the tears of the widows which it has made. [Hero Lord Norbury interrupted Mr. Emmet ; saying, that the mean and wicked enthusiasts who felt as he did were not equal to the ac- complishment of their wild designs.] I appeal to the Immaculate God. I swear by the throne of Heaven before which I must shortly appear by the blood of the murdered pati-iots who have gone before me, that my conduct has been, through all this peril and through all my pitrposes, governed only by the convictions which I have uttered, and by no other view than that of their cure, and the emancipation of my country from the super- inhuman oppression under which she has so long and too patiently travailed ; and I con- fidently and assuredly hope that wild and chimerical as it may appear, there is still union and strength in Ireland to accomplish this most noble enterprise. Of this I speak with the confidence of im- mense knowledge, and with the consolation that appertains to that confidence. Think not, my lords, I say this for the petty gratification of giving you a transitory uneasiness ; a man who never yet raised his voice to assert a lie will not hazard his character with posterity by asserting a falsehood on a subject so important to his country, and on an occasion like this. Yes, my lords, a man who does not wish to have his epitaph written until his country is 86 THE OEATOE. liberated, will not leave a weapon in the power of envy, nor a pretence to impeach the probity which he means to preserve even in the grave to which tyranny consigns him. [Here he was again interrupted by the Court.] Again, I say, what I have spoken was not .intended for your lordships, whose situation I commiserate rather than envy my expressions were for my countrymen ; if there is an Irish- man present, let my last words cheer him in the hour of affliction. [Here he was again interrupted. Lord Norbury said he did not sit there to hear treason.] T have always understood it to be the duty off a judge, when a prisoner has been convicted, to pronounce the sentence of the law ; I have ; also understood the judges sometimes think it 'their duty to hear with patience, and to speak with humanity, to exhort the victims of the laws,* and to offer with tender benignity their opinions of the motives by which he was actuated in the crime of which he was adjudged guilty. That a judge has thought it his duty so to have done, I have no doubt ; but where is the boasted freedom of your institutions ? Where is the vaunted impartiality, clemency, and mildness of your Courts of Justice, if an unfortunate prisoner, whom your policy, and not your justice, is about to deliver into the hand.s of the executioner, is not suffered to explaiu his motives sincerely and truly, and to vindicate the principles by which he was actuated ? My lords, it may be a part of the system of angry justice to bow a man's mind by humilia- tion to the proposed ignominy of the scaffold but worse to me than the purposed shame, or the scaffold's terrors, would be the shame of such foul and unfounded imputations as have been laid against me in this Court. You, my lord, are a judge ; I am the supposed culprit ; I am a man, you are a man also : by a revolution of power we might change places, though we never could characters. If I stand at the bar of this Court, and dare not vindicate my character, what a farce is your justice ! If I stand at this bar and dare not vindicate my character, how dare you calumniate it ? Does the sentence of death, which your unhallowed policy inflicts on my body, also condemn my tongue to silence and my reputation to reproach ? Your executioner may abridge the period of my existence, but whilst I exist I shall not forbear to vindicate my character and motives from your aspersions ; and as a man, to whom fame is dearer than life, I will make the last use of that life in doing justice to that repiitation which is to live after me, and which is the only legacy I can leave to those I honour and love, and for whom I am proud to perish. As men, my lords, we must appear on the great day at one common tribunal, and it will then remain for the Searcher of all hearts to show a collective universe, who was engaged in the most virtuous actions or attached by the purest motives by the country's oppressors, or [Here he was again interrupted, and told to listen to the sentence of the law.] My lords, will a dying man be denied the legal privilege of exculpating himself in the eyes of the community of an undeserved re- proach thrown upon him during his trial, by charging him with ambition, and attempting to cast away, for a paltry consideration, the liberties of his country ? Why did your lord- ships insult me ? or rather, why insult justice in demanding of me why sentence of death should not be pronounced ? I know, my lord, that form prescribes that you should ask the question the form also prescribes the right of answering. This, no doubt, may be dispensed with, and so might the whole ceremony of the trial, since sentence was already pronounced at the Castle before the jury was empannelled. Your lordships are but the priests of the oracle, and I submit ; but I insist on the whole of the forms. [Here the Court desired him to proceed.] I am charged with being an emissary of France. An emissary of France ! and for what end P It is alleged I wish to sell the inde- pendence of my country ! and for what end ? Was this the object of my ambition P and is this the mode by which a tribunal of justice reconciles contradictions ? No, I am no emissary ; and my ambition was to hold a place among the deliverers of my country not in power, not in profit, but in the glory of tha achievement. Sell my country's independence ! and for what ? Was it for a change of masters ? No, but for ambition ! Oh, my country ! was it personal ambition that could influence me ? Had it been the soul of my actions, could I not, by my education and fortune by the rank and consideration of my family have placed myself among the proudest of my oppressors ? My country was my idol ; to it I sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment, and for it I now offer up my life. God ! No, iny lord ; I acted as an Irishman, determined on delivering his country from the yoke of a domestic faction, which is its joint partner and perpetrator in the parricide, for the ignominy of existing with an exterior of splendour and a conscious depravity : it was the wish of my heart to extricate my country from the doubly-riveted despotism. I wished to place her independence beyond the reach of any power on earth I wished to exalt her to that proud station in the world. Connections with France were indeed in- tended but only as far as mutual interest would sanction or require. Were they to assume any THE ORATOR. 87 authority inconsistent with the purest independ- ence, it would be the signal for its destruction ; we sought aid, and we sought it as we had assurance we should obtain it as auxiliaries in war and allies in peace. Were the French to come as invaders or enemies, uninvited by the wishes of the people, I should oppose them to the utmost of my strength. Yes, my countrymen, I should advise you to meet them on the beach with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other ; I would meet them with all the destructive fury of war, and I would animate my coiintrymen to immolate them in their boats, before they had contaminated the soil of my country. If they succeeded in landing, and if forced to retire before superior discipline, I would dispute every inch of ground, burn every blade of grass, and the last entrenchment of liberty should be my grave. What I could not do myself, if I should fall, I should leave as a last charge to my countrymen to accomplish, because I should feel conscious that life any more than death is unprofitable when a foreign nation holds my country in subjection. But it was not an enemy that the succours of France were to land. I looked indeed for the succours of France ; but I wished to prove to France and to the world, that Irishmen de- served to be assisted ; that they were indignant at slavery, and ready to assert the right and independence of their country. I wished to procure for my country the guarantee which Washington procured for America. To procure an aid which by its example would be as important as its valour disciplined, gallant, pregnant with science and experience ; who would perceive the good and polish the rough points of our character ; they would come to us as strangers and leave us as friends, after sharing our perils and elevating our destiny. These were my objects not to receive new taskmasters, but to expel old tyrants. These were my views, and these only became Irishmen. It was for these ends I sought aid from France, because France, even as an enemy, could not be more implacable than the enemy already in the bosom of my country. [Here he was interrupted by the Court.] I have been charged with that importance in the efforts to emancipate my country as to be con- sidered the keystone of the combination of Irish- men, or, as your lordship expressed it, " the life and blood of the conspiracy ; " you do me honour over much ; you have given to the solution all the credit of a superior. There are men engaged in the conspiracy who are not only superior to me, but even to your own estimation of your- self, my lord ; before the splendour of whose genius and virtues I should bow with respectful deference, and who would think themselves dishonoured to be called your friends; who would not disgrace themselves by shaking your blood-stained hand. [Here he was interrupted.] What, my lord ! shall you tell me on the passage to that scaffold, which the tyranny of which you are only the intermediary executioner has erected for my murder, that I am account- able for all the blood that has and will be shed in this struggle of the oppressed against -the oppressor ? Shall you tell me this, and shall I be so very a slave as not to repel it ? I do not fear to approach the Omnipotent Judge, to answer for the conduct of my whole life, and am I to be appalled and falsified by a mere remnant of mortality here ? By you, too,-, who, if it were possible to collect all the- innocent blood that you have shed- in your unhallowed ministry in one great reservoir, your, lordship might swim in it. [Here the Judge interfered.] Let no man dare, when I am dead, to charge me with dishonour; let no man attaint my memory, by believing that I could have engaged in any cause but of my country's liberty and independence, or that I became the pliant minion of power in the oppression of the miseries of my countrymen. The proclamation of the Provisional Government speaks for our views; no inference can be tortured from it to counte- nance barbarity or debasement at home, or sub- jection, humiliation, or treachery from abroad. I would nothave submitted to aforeign oppressor for the same reason that I would resist the present domestic oppressor. In the dignity of freedom, I would have fought on the threshold of my country, and its enemy should only enter by passing over my lifeless corpse. And am I, who lived but for my country, and who have subjected myself to the dangers of a jealous and watchful oppressor and the bondage of the grave, only to give my countrymen their rights, and my country their independence am I to be loaded with calumny, and not suffered to resent or repel it ? ]STo, God forbid ! If the spirits of the illustrious dead partici- pate in the concern and cares of those who are dear to them in this transitory life, . ever dear and venerable shade of my departed father, look down with scrutiny upon the conduct of your suffering son, and see if I have ever for a moment deviated from those principles of morality and patriotism which it was your; care to instil into my youthful mind, and for which I am now to offer up my life. My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice the blood which you seek is not congealed by the artificial terrors that surround your victim ; it circulates warmly and unrifled through the channels which God created for nobler purposes, but which you are bent to destroy for purposes 88 THE OBATOR. so grievous that they cry to Heaven. Be ye patient ! I have but a few words more to say. I am going to my cold and silent grave ; my lamp of life is nearly extinguished ; my race is run ; the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom ! I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world ; it is the charity of its silence ! Let no man write my epitaph ; for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until other times and other men can do justice to niy character. When my country takes her place among the nations of the earth then, and not till then let my epitaph be -written. I HAVE DONE. JOHN PYM. Born 15S4. Died 1C43. [THE speech which follows is by the illustrious John Pym, member for Tavistock in almost all the parlia- ments of Charles I., and the bold leader of the House of Commons during the great struggle that preceded the parliamentary wars. So popular indeed was he as an orator in his day, that he was emphatically styled "King Pym." His eloquence was of that bluff and nervous order most suited to the stirring times in which he lived, and proved of good service to the Com- mons in conducting the impeachments which were so frequent and so necessary during the tyrannous and arbitrary reign of the 1st Charles. The occasion of the speech here given was the impeachment of George Villiers, the proud and ambitious Duke of Buckingham, whose evil influence in the counsels of the King doubt- less brought on so many of the mistakes and misfor- tunes into which Charles I. afterwards fell. Buckingham's son, of the same name, was the un- principled minister and favourite of Charles II. It may be added, Pym's speech was delivered in 1626, and that will itself best explain the grounds of the im- peachment.] CHARGE AGAINST THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM. MY LORDS, The matter of fact needs no proof, being so notorious ; and therefore I shall insist only upon the consequence which made this fact of the duke's a grievance in the commonwealth ; and conclude with strengthen- ing the whole with some precedents. Every offence presupposes a duty : the first work is to show the duke was bound to do other- wise. I need to allege nothing else but that he was a sworn counsellor and servant to the king, and so ought to have preferred his master's honour and service before his own pride, in seeking to ennoble his own relations. There are some laws peculiar, according to the temper of several states ; there are other laws that are so essential and co-natural with government, that being broken, all things run into confusion, ^s. Such is that law of suppressing vice and encouraging virtue by apt punishments and rewards. Whosoever moves the king to give honour, which is a double reward, binds himself to make good a" double proportion of merit in that party that is to receive it ; the first of value and ex- cellency, the second of continuance. As this honour lifts them above others, so should they have virtue beyond others ; and as it is also perpetual, not ending with their persons, but depending upon their posterity, so there ought to be, in the first root of this honour, some such active merit to the common- wealth, as may transmit a vigorous example to their successors to raise them to an imitation of the like. / I forbear reflections on those persons to whom this article collaterally relates, since the com- mands I have received from the Commons con- cern the Duke of Buckingham only ; I shall therefore leave the first point concerning the offence, and come to the next point, viz., the grievance, which in the articles is expressed in three respects. First, Prejudicial to the noble barons. Secondly, To the king, by disabling him from rewarding extraordinary virtue. Thirdly, To the kingdom, which comprehends all. First. It is prejudicial to this high court of peers. I will not trouble your lordships with recital, how ancient, how famous this degree of barons hath been in the western monarchies. I will only say, the baronage of England hath upheld that dignity, and doth conceive it in a greater height than any other nation. The lords are great judges, a court of the last resort ; they are great commanders of state, not only for the present, but as law-makers and counsellors for the time to come ; and this not by delegacy and commission, but by birth and inheritance. If any be brought to be a member of this great body who is not qualified to the performance of such state functions, it must needs prejudice the whole body ; as a little water put into a great vessel of wine, which, as it receives spirits from the wine, so doth it leave therein some degrees of its own infirmities and coldness. Secondly. It is prejudicial to the king ; not that it can disable him from giving honour, for that is a power inseparable from the crown ; but by making honour ordinary, it becomes an in- competent reward for extraordinary virtue. When men are made noble, they are taken out of the press of the common sort; and how can it choose but fall in estimation, when honour itself is made a press ? Thirdly. It is prejudicial to the kingdom. Histories and records are full of the great as- sistance which the crown had received from the barons on foreign and domestic occasions ; and not only by their own persons, but their retinue and tenants ; and therefore they are called by Bracton, Rolur Belli. How can the crown expect the like from those who have no tenant?, THE ORATOR. 69 and are hardly able to maintain themselves ? Besides, this is not all ; for the prejudice goes not only privately from thence, in that they cannot give the assistance they ought, but positively, in that they have been a greater burden to the kingdom since, by the gifts and pensions they have received ; nay, they will even stand in need to receive more for the future support of their dignities. This makes the duke's offence greater, that in this weakness and consumption of the state, he hath not been content alone to consume the public treasure, which is the blood and nou- rishment of the state, but hath brought in others to help him in this work of destruction ; and that they might do it the more eagerly by enlarging their honour, he hath likewise enlarged their necessities and appetites. I shall second this charge with two prece- dents ; the first, 28 Henry VI., in the complaint against the Duke of Suffolk, that he had married his niece to the Earl of Kendal, and procured him 1,000 per annum in the duchy of Guyenne : and yet this party was the son of a noble and well-deserving father. The second, in. 17 Edw. IV., an Act of Par- liament for the degrading of Thomas Neville, Marquis of Montague, and Duke of Bedford. The reason expressed in the Act is, because he had not a revenue to support that dignity ; together with another reason, that when men are called to honour, and have not livelihood to support it, it induceth great poverty, and causeth briberies, extortions, embraceries, and main- tenance. SIR ROBERT PEEL. Born 1788. Died 1850. [THE following speech, which is here reprinted in its entirety, was delivered by Sir Robert Peel at the grand dinner given in his honour at the Merchant Tailors' Hall in the spring of 1835, and subsequently to his resignation of office after the short-lived ministry of 1834. The conservative principles which he then pro- fessed nnd so gallantly attempted to carry out are well laid down in this address, and their enunciation there, when read in the light of Peel's after career, will be of no small interest to the political student. Sir E. Bulwer Lytton, in his poem of "St. Stephen's," has sketched the character of this statesman in the three following lines : " Peel, decorous with his Median quiver, Though to wound either side humanely loth, Shot each in turn, and put an end to both." SPEECH AT THE MERCHANT TAILORS' HALL, HTH MAY, 1835. r\ ENTLEMEN, with the deep feelings of pride \JT and satisfaction by which I must neces- sarily be animated, there does mix, as you may well believe, one painful feeling that springs from the consciousness that any language of mine must be totally inadequate to express the in- tensity of my sensations in addressing you upon NO. XII. the present occasion. Gentlemen, I well know that these are the trite and ordinary excuses made by all speakers upon occasions like the present ; but if you will only place yourselves in i my situation, if you will only recollect that I was alone, as it were, in this company, that I remained seated while all the rest of you were standing, that I remained silent while all the rest of you were enthusiastically vociferating your generous approbation, that I was conscious that all your kindly attention, and considera- tion, and deep feeling were concentrated upon myself, if you will recollect that I am a public man, that I am a man of the people, that I derive, I will not say my chief, my only strength from public applause and public confidence, that I am moreover a man who looks for no reward for public services excepting only public appro- bation, who aspires to no dignity except in all honesty and purity the good opinion of his fellow-subjects the sound good opinion I mean, as distinguished from the paltry and fleeting popularity which may be gained at the moment, even by the weakest and most contemptible, in pandering or succumbing to faction, or even in more meekly and gently attempting at once to flatter and inflame the people's prejudices ; I say, then, that if you will take all these con- siderations and circumstances into your atten- tion, you may be well able to believe, that although the excuse I have offered you for my deficiency in power adequately to respond to your great kindness may be trite, though it may be the ordinary phraseology of speakers in com- plimentary assemblages ; yet upon this peculiar occasion it is perfectly consistent with truth, that I am unable to do justice to my feelings, in pouring forth to you my heartfelt thanks for the honour which you have conferred upon me. But let me not be suspected of idle egotism. Let it not be thought that I have been so mis- led by the suggestions of personal vanity as to attribute to myself, or any deserts of mine, the origin of this meeting, or the feelings which you have this evening expressed. I agree with our worthy chairman in thinking that the address which I received from so large a body of the merchants, bankers, and traders of this city, was a sufficient compliment and reward for any services and exertions of mine. It asserted the principle by which I was animated : it bore with it the true reward of public services the appro- bation of my fellow-citizens. I wanted no other demonstration of public feeling ; and if I had regarded this meeting as merely a demonstra- tion of personal compliment, I should have almost discouraged it, as being, after the ad- dress, a superfluous token of public esteem. No, Sir, the object of this meeting is a demon- stration of public feeling in the metropolis. I do think that public interests may be promoted a 2 90 THE ORATOR. by it. I do think that the impulse which has been given from this centre of the commercial world the vital impulse must thrill to every extremity of the British empire. I repeat, Sir, that the throes of this mighty heart must send the wholesome life-blood of sound doctrine and good principle to every remote member of the body corporate of the United Kingdom. Gentle- men, I understand that by assembling here to- day, you mean to mark your attachment to the nncient institutions of the country, and your firm resolution to maintain those principles, which are interwoven with the safety of those institutions, and the security and prosperity of this empire. It was incumbent upon you to come forth in this manner, because you do not happen to have any public recognized organ ' through whom your sentiments could be ex- pressed. When I look round this great meeting, abounding as it does in wealth abounding in intelligence abounding in respectability and reflect that there is not one single member oivt of the eighteen allotted for the metropolitan districts to represent your opinions, I am not surprised that you should resolve to speak for yourselves. Whatever be the numbers here assembled, they might have been almost inde- finitely swelled by fresh accessions. The hall has been taxed to the utmost extent of its ac- commodation, and if there were room for ten times a greater number of gentlemen within these walls, we should have had them present. And yet you and your friends had not the good fortune to secure, out of the whole eighteen, a single representative by whom your opinions could be spoken, through whom your just and legitimate influence could be exercised in the public councils. In order, therefore, that there should be no misconstruction of your silence, you feel it necessary to speak through other organs than those which the new representa- tive system has provided for you ; and in con- currence with this feeling it is that I come forward to lend my humble countenance to this meeting. And, gentlemen, it is because this is a public occasion, and because we are met to promote a public object, that you will expect from me some further observations, and some allusions to tho gtate of public affairs. Gentlemen, what I shall say will be spoken by me as one of your- selves, not as one anxious for triumph as a party man still less as a candidate for office : I ehall speak to you as a British subject in a private capacity, feeling a tenfold greater interest in the cause of good government than in any emo- luments or advantages he could possibly derive from office ; a man who has a tenfold greater desire, on public grounds, for the maintenance of the principles he professes and conscientiously believes to be essential to the welfare of the country, than for any benefits, if benefits they can be called, which he could derive from the acquisition of office. I believe indeed that there is no greater mistake than that people situated as I happen to be are so veiy anxious for office. Some fancy that the wholesome rest of every politician is broken by his feverish longing for office. If I were to speak from my own ex- perience, I should tell a different tale. There is to me and to many others nothing in office*, so far as mere personal feelings or interests are concerned, to compensate for its labours and its annoyances, and its deep anxieties, its inter- ruption of domestic repose and happiness. Away, then, Sir, vdth the ridiculous assertion that men who are really qualified for the first trusts of the state would consent to procure them by any dishonest sacrifice of opinion, to any compromise of character. We hear con- stantly the professions of great alarm about court intrigue and court favouritism, and base coalitions of public men for the promotion of their private ends. The country quite mistakes the real danger in this respect ; the danger is, not that public men, fit for public trusts, and worthy of public confidence, will seek office by unworthy means, but that they will seek ex- cuses for declining it will refuse to bear the heavy sacrifices of time and labour and repose, which it imposes. That office holds out great advantages to the ambitious minds of some, I will not deny ; but are there not out of office equal, if not greater, means of distinction in public life? For myself, in taking office, in submitting to its drudgery, I was urged by nothing but a sense of public duty, and by the desire not to shrink from that obligation which every British subject incurs when called upon to serve his king, to the utmost of his ability and power. I hope that his Majesty has not a more devoted servant than I; but this I can say with truth, that when I entered the king's service I entered it with the consciousness that I neither sought nor desired any favour, any honour, any reward which the king has in his power to bestow. Office is no doubt a legitimate object of ambition. I think it anything but a reflec- tion on a public man to seek it, when he can hold it consistently with his public principles, and when the holding of it will advance those principles ; but speaking for myself, I repeat that I do not covet it, and that nothing has reconciled me to it but the imperative sense of public duty. The chief consolation I have had in holding it, the chief reward I retain on re- linquishing it, is the proud reflection that I have had the good fortune in being connected in civil life with that illustrious man* whose fame exceeds that of any other conqueror a man from whom I never have been one moment estranged by any difference on political subjects, * Tho Duke of Wellington. THE ORATOR. 91 and with whom my connection never has been embittered by the slightest infusion of paltry jealousy. I am gratified by the thought, con- nected as I have been with him in the civil service of the Crown, I shall have my name transmitted with his to after-ages. This is the chief pride, the dearest gratification of my heart. But I feel that I have been straying from the subject immediately before us the present state of public affairs. Allow me to speak to you not as a party man, but as one of your- selves, and to submit to you plain opinions in plain language. I prefer this, and I am sure so will you, to that elaborate concatenation of phrases which is sometimes called eloquence, in which you have the smallest possible quantity of common sense enveloped in the greatest mul- titude of equivocal words. I say to you, then, that there is danger to the institutions of this country, danger to the mixed and happily ba- lanced form of government under which we have lived and prospered. But it is in your power, and in the power of those who think with you and fill situations in the country corresponding to yours, to avert the danger. It is in your power, by unremitting activity and by the exercise of those functions which the constitu- tion has left to you, to mitigate, if not altogether to remove, the evil. My fixed opinion is, that the danger can be only met by your gaining for your principles an effectual influence in the popular branch of the legislature. "We shall only aggravate the evil if we attempt to deceive ourselves as to the nature of the instruments we can. employ. Let us not indulge in useless lamentations. Let us waste no time in re- gretting that which is beyond our remedy. This is quite idle. The first step towards safety is a knowledge of the real source of our strength, a just confidence in it, and a firm resolution to exert it. If we cease to take a desponding view of public affairs, all will be yet well. Though you may not be able to exercise that full share of influence to which you are legitimately en- titled, yet hesitate not to .strain every nerve to acquire all that can be acquired. Act like Englishmen, and if you will do so, I am con- fident, from the national spirit and indomitable resolution, that the country will be rescued from the dangers by which it is at present threatened. I warn you that you must not place a firm reliance either upon the prerogative of the Crown or on the influence or authority of the House of Lords, or on the combined effect of them. The prerogative of the Crown, the au- thority of the Lords, are constitutionally potent in occasionally controlling the acts or encroach- ments of the House of Commons ; but you must not now-a-days depend upon them- as bulwarks which are impassable, and which can be com- mitted without apprehension to the storm and struggle of passion and ambition and the love of change. The government of the country, allow me to tell you, must be mainly conducted with the goodwill and through the immediate agency of the House of Commons. I again say the royal prerogative, the authority of the House of Lords, are most useful, nay, necessary, in our mixed and balanced constitution. But you must not strain those powers. You would not consider that to be worthy of the name of government, which is nothing but a series of jealousies and hostile collisions between two branches of the legislature. You wish to see all branches of the legislature maintaining each its independent authority, but moving, through mutual confidence, in harmonious concert to- wards the great end of civil society and civil government the public good. I ask you then, not to underrate, not to misunderstand the power and authority of the House of Common?, not to trust to the controlling checks which may theoretically exist upon that power and authority ; but to secure, through the legitimate exercise of constitutional privileges, that degree of influence for your principles in the House of Commons, which will be ten times more power- ful for the establishment of what is good, and the resistance of what is evil, than any extrinsic control of the Crown or the House of Lords. On taking office, I avowed my determination to abide by the Reform Bill. I trust I have re- deemed that pledge. On this broad consti- tutional principle my friends and I acted. We acted in the spirit of the Refonn Bill, not nig- gardly, not merely content with a cold assent and submission to its details, but with an honest and generous deference to its spirit and to the authority which it established. When we found, after a patient and sufficient trial, that we had not the confidence of the House of Commons, although the array opposed to us was miscel- laneous in the extreme, although the majority was small, we felt it our duty to resign. How- ever strongly we might have opposed the esta- blishment of the new elective system, we now adhered to our pledge. We did not entertain the vain notion of governing the country against a majority of the reformed House of Commons. We refused, indeed, to be obedient instruments in the hands of that majority. We thought it safer for the country to refuse to be so, and, therefore, unable to enforce our own principles, we retired from, office. Allow me then to re- commend you also to follow this example, to refrain from flattering yourselves with vague and distant hopes of altering the present system let us not seem, even in thought, to threaten those who have acquired new rights with the forfeiture of that acquisition. Lot us stand by the constitution as it exists at present. Let us never hint at alteration, or by our conduct raise a secret doubt, even in the minds of the most THE ORATOR, suspicious. I venture to prophesy to you that the proposition for change will not come from you. If it comes, it will come from those who clamoured most loudly for the Reform Bill, who demanded the whole bill, and nothing but the bill. Ay, it will come from them, and the mo- ment, perhaps, is not far distant the moment that they have ascertained the bill is not likely to answer the purposes they had in view the moment they see it is not potent to exclude the influence of what we call Conservative principles. Xet us then declare our readiness to accept in good faith, as a constitutional settlement, the provisions of the Reform Bill, and let us by that declaration fortify ourselves in the resistance to new agitations of the public mind on questions of government, to new innovations on what was called but yesterday by its friends the second charter of our liberties. And while you de- termine to respect the Reform Bill, prove prac- tically your respect for it by exercising every privilege which it leaves untouched, or which it for the first time confers. There must be no laziness no apathy and above all, no despond- ency. Let each man consider the franchise he possesses not as a personal privilege, but as a public trust, which it is his duty to fulfil. But I have said enough upon this subject ; I do not despair that if we continue to exert ourselves, if we here set an example to the .mpire*.it will, in all its parts, be before long animated by the constitutional and truly English feelings which are here displayed. How, it will be asked, are you to regain your influence in the House of Commons ? Not, let me tell you, as, your enemies would impute to you, by bribery and conniption and unworthy means, but by going forth with a frank exposition of your principles, and by showing that there is nothing selfish in your support of the institutions under which you. live, and of your defence of the rights which you inherited. Let us disclaim all in- terest in the maintenance of any abuse let us declare that we are willing to redress any real grievance, and to concur in the application of the best remedy which can possibly be devised for that purpose. We hold that no public office ought to be maintained for the mere purpose of patronage ; that public appointments can only .be -sdrulicated on the ground of their being ne- es,sary to the public service. We want no sinecures. We want no greater amount of salary for the reward of public officers than that which may be sufficient for securing integrity and competence in the discharge of important official duties. Above all, we deny that we are separated by any fancied line of interest, or of pi'idc, or of privilege, from the middling classes of the country. Why, who are we, or at least nine-tenths of those who are here assembled, that any one should tell us that we have an interest separate, or feelings discordant from those of the middling classes of society ? If we ourselves don't belong to the middling classes of society, I want to know how wide the interval may be that is presumed to separate us ? Speaking in behalf of nine-tenths at least of those assembled within these walls, I say we disclaim any separation from the middling classes of society in this country. O no, we are bound to them by a thousand ramifications of direct personal connection, and common interests and common feelings. If circumstances may appear to have elevated some of us above the rest, to what, I venture to ask, is that ele- vation owing ? It is owing to nothing else but to the exercise, either on our own part or on the part of our immediate forefathers, of those qua- lities of diligence, of the love of order, of in- dustry, of integrity in commercial dealings, which have hitherto secured to every member of the middle class of society the opportunities of elevation and distinction in this great commu- nity ; and it is because we stand in our present situation it is because we owe our elevation in society to the exercise of those qualities, and because we feel that so long as this ancient form of government, and the institutions con- nected with it, and the principles and feelings which they engender, shall endure, the same elevation will be secured by the same means, that we are resolved, with the blessing of God, to keep clear for others those same avenues that were opened to ourselves, that we will not allow their course to be obstructed by men who want to secure the same advantages by dishonest means to reach, by some shorter cut, that goal which can be surely attained, but can only be attained, through industry, and patient per- severance, and strict integrity. Gentlemen, what was the charge against myself? It was this, that the king had sent to Rome for the son of a cotton-spinner, in order to make him prime minister of England. Did I feel that a reflection ? Did it make me discontented with the state of the laws and institutions of the country ? No ; but does it not make me, and ought it not make you, gentlemen, anxious to preserve that happy order of things under which the same opportunities of distinction may be ensured to other sons of other cotton-spinners, provided they can establish a legitimate claim on the confidence of their king and country ? We are charged with having some interest in the perpetuation of abuses. Why, can there be any one with a greater interest than we have, that the public burdens should be as much lightened as they can possibly be, consistent with the maintenance of the public engagements? We are represented as fattening on the public income. Looking to this company, and to those associated with it in feeling, is there any gain, I ask, connected with the increase of the public burdens that can countervail the interest wo THE ORATOR. liave in their reduction. \Ve have a direct, a superior interest to any other in the correction of every abuse and the application of every just principle of just and wise economy. At the same time, consistently with these feelings, consistently with the determination to correct real abuses, and to promote real economy, we do not disguise that it is our firm resolution to maintain, to the utmost of our power, the limited monarchy of this countiy, to respect the rights of every branch of the legislature, to maintain inviolate the united Church of England and Ireland, to maintain it as a predominant establishment, meaning by predominance, not the denial of any civil right to other classes of the community, but maintaining the Church in the possession of its property and of all its just privileges. Such is our firm resolution ; we will submit to no compromise, and we will exercise every privilege which the constitution has in- trusted to us for the legitimate maintenance and support of the constitution in Church and State. This is the appeal we make to the middle classes of the community to those who are mainly the depositaries of the elective franchise. We tell them that it is not only our determina- tion to resist any direct attack on our insti- tutions, but that we are also resolved that we will not permit the ancient prescriptive govern- ment of this country the mitigated monarchy, consisting of three branches of the legislature we are determined that we will not allow it to be changed, by plausible and specious proposi- tions of reform, into a democratic republic. "We will not allow, if we can prevent it we will not allow that, through plausible and popular pre- texts of improvement and reform, there shall gradually take place such an infusion of demo- cracy into the institutions of this countiy as shall essentially change their theory and prac- tical character, and shall by slow degrees rob us of the blessings we have so long enjoyed under our limited monarchy, and popular but balanced constitution. Now, gentlemen, that is what I apprehend we mean by this is the construction we put upon the term " Conservative principles ; " and such is the ground on which we make an appeal to the country at large for the maintenance of those principles. "We tell all, in whatever class of life they may be, that they ought to feel as deep an interest in the maintenance of those principles as any of the politicians or men of property who are now within my hearing. The encouragement of industry, the demand for pro- ductive labour, depends on the maintenance of those principles. The preservation of order depends on them, the maintenance of that se- curity, which has hitherto led men through honest industry to accumulate property in this country, depends upon them. And now that the feelings excited by political contests and great changes in the electoral system have sub- sided, I cannot help entertaining a sincere hope and belief, disclaiming any intention of inter- fering improperly with the political franchise, that there is still that fund of good sense in this community that will enable us, if not to gain a predominating influence in the Commons' House of Parliament, still to acquire that degree of influence that shall control and prevent many bad projects. My advice to you is, not to permit past dif- ferences on political subjects now to prevent a cordial union with those who take a similar view with yourselves on matters of immediately pressing importance. There are many questions on which you formerly differed with others, that are now settled. There are many public men from whose views you formerly dissented, who agree with you that the Reform Bill is not to be made a platform from which a new battery is to be directed against the remaining institu- tions of this country. If they agree with you in this, the essential practical point; if, wishing with you to correct real abuses, they are still determined to maintain the ancient principles on which the constitution of the country is founded, to protect the interests of order and property, it would be madness to revive old and extinguished differences, and to allow the re- membrance of such shadows to obstruct an har- monious and cordial union for the defence and preservation of all that remains. Gentlemen, I ought to apologize for detaining you so long, and I shall not further prevent my Hon. friend, the chairman, from proceeding in the execution of his remaining duties. But, in conclusion, let me call on you to recollect the associations connected with the place where we are now assembled. From this place a voice * issued in 1793 of memorable moment a voice in support of the ancient principles of the British monarchy a voice which encouraged and ena- bled the ministers of that day to check the con- tagion of democratic and French principles, then in their ascendant. I call on you to remember the motto under which you are now assembled, Concordid parvoe res crescunt : to bear in mind, that by acting on the advice which it involves, small as your influence in the public councils may now be, it is capable, by unity of purpose, by cordial concert, and good understanding- by common exertions directed to a common end, it is capable of vast expansion and increase. By your example you will rally around you a thousand hearts to fight in the same righteous cause. Proclaim to the country from this, the metropolis of commerce, that, entertaining prin- ciples of moderation in public affairs, you will still stand firm in defence of the ancient walls, and guard the ancient landmarks of the con- * That of Kurko. THE OEATOE. stitution ; that you will rally round the mo- I narchy and protect its just prerogatives ; that you will defend the independent exercise of the authority of the House of Lords, and maintain firm and inviolate the rights of the Established Church ; that you will stand by, in the em- phatic language of the most solemn Acts of Parliament, the Protestant government and the Protestant religion of this country. Yes, elevate that voice in the cause of those principles principles so moderate, so just, so necessary and depend upon it, it will be re-echoed from every part of this country, and the pulsation of the heart of the great corporate community will vibrate through every artery of this mighty empire. THE LATE PEINCE CONSORT. Lorn, 1819. Died 1861. [THE subjoined estimate of Sir Robert Peel, from the " Addresses " of the late Prince Consort, may appro- priately follow our last selection. It occurs in a speech delivered at the banquet given by the Lord Mayor of York and the mayors of the chief cities and towns of the United Kingdom, to the Lord Mayor of London, October 25th, 1850.] CHARACTER OF SIR EGBERT PEEL. THE constitution of Sir Eobert Peel's mind was peculiarly that of a statesman, and of an English statesman : he was liberal from feeling, but conservative upon principle. Whilst his impulse drove him to foster progress, his sagacious mind and great experience showed him how easily the whole machinery of a state and of society is deranged, and how important, but how difficult also, it is to direct its further development in accordance with its fundamental principles, like organic growth in nature. It was peculiar to him, that in great things, as in small, all the difficulties and objections occurred to him first ; he would anxiously consider them, pause, and warn against rash resolutions ; but having convinced himself, after a long and care- ful investigation, that a step was not only right to be taken, but of the practical mode also of safely taking it, it became to him a necessity and a duty to take it : all his caution and appa- rent timidity changed into courage and power of action, and at the same time readiness cheer- fully to make any personal sacrifice which its execution might demand. Gentlemen, if he lias had so great an influ- ence over this country, it was from the nation recognizing in his qualities the true type of the English character, which is essentially practical. Warmly attached to his institutions, and re- vering the bequests left to him by the industry, wisdom, and piety of his forefathers, the Eng- lishman attaches little value to any theoretical scheme. It will attract his attention only after having been for some time placed before him : it must have been thoroughly investigated and discussed before he will entertain it. Should it be an empty theory, it will fall to the ground during this time of probation; should it sur- vive this trial, it will be on account of the practical qualities contained in it; but its adoption in the end will entirely depend upon its harmonizing with the national feeling, the historic development of the country, and the peculiar nature of its institutions. THOMAS LOED EESKINE. Lorn 1748. Died 1823. [WE are sorry our space does not allow us to print in its entirety the fine speech of which the conclusion only is here given. It is from beginning to end a great spe- cimen of forensic oratory. The exordium, the exa- mination of the evidence, and the peroration are alike worthy of study. The "Gordon Riots" are too well known, and the language of our extract too clear, to need any historical explanation of the speaker's position. The speech was delivered before Lord Mansfield, Chief Justice of Eng- land, in February, 1781.] TRIAL OF LORD GEORGE GORDON. WHAT is the evidence then on which the connection of my noble client with the outrages of the mob is to be proved ? Why that they had blue cockades. How absurd ! Is he answerable for eveiy man that wears a blue cockade ? If a person commits murder in my livery, without my command, counsel, or consent, is the murder mine ? In all cumulative constructive treasons, gen- tlemen, you are to judge from the tenor of a man's behaviour, not from crooked and dis- jointed parts of it. Nemo repente est turpissi~ mus. No one can possibly be guilty of this crime by a sudden impulse of the mind ; Lord George Gordon stands, therefore, upon the evidence at Coachmakers' Hall as pure and white as snow. He stands so upon the evidence of a man who had differed with him as to the expediency of his conduct, yet who swears that, from the time he took the chair till the time which is the subject of inquiry, there was no blame in him. You, therefore, are bound as Christian men to believe that when he came to St. George's Fields on the memorable morning, he had no hostile intention of repealing a law by rebel- lion. But it seems all his behaviour at Coach- makers' Hall was colour and deceit. Let us see, therefore, whether this body of men, when assembled, answered the description of that which I have stated to be the purpose of him who assembled them. Were they a multitude arrayed for terror and force ? On the contrary THE OBATOR. 95 you have heard, upon the evidence of men whose veracity is not to be impeached, that they were sober, decent, quiet, peaceable tradesmen, of the better sort, well-dressed and well-behaved ; and that there was not a man among them who had any one weapon, offensive or defensive. Sir Philip Jennings Clerke tells you he went into the fields ; that he drove through them, talked to many individuals amongst them, who all informed him that it was not their wish to persecute the Papists, but that they were alarmed for the fate of their religion. He further told you he never saw a more peaceable multitude, and it appears upon the oath of all who were present, that Lord George Gordon went among the crowd exhorting them to peace and quiet. Mark his conduct, gentlemen, when he heard from Mr. Evans that there was a low riotous set of people assembled in Palace Yard. Mr. Evans, being a member of the Protestant Association, and desirous that nothing tumul- tuary might happen from the assembly, went in his carriage with Mr. Spinage to St. George's Fields to inform Lord George that there were such people assembled, probably Papists, who were determined to do mischief. The moment he told him of it, whatever his original plan might have been, he instantly changed it on seeing its impropriety. " Do you intend," said Mr. Evans, " to carry up all these men with the petition to the House of Commons ? " " No, I do not," he replied. " Will you then give me leave," says Mr. Evans, " to go round to the different divisions, and tell the people it is not your lordship's purpose ? " He answered, " By all means." Mr. Evans ac- cordingly went, but it was impossible to guide such a number of people, peaceable as they were. Being all invincibly desirous to go, he was at last obliged to leave the fields, exhausted with heat and fatigue, beseeching them to be peaceable and orderly. At the very time that he left them in perfect harmony and good order, it appears, gentlemen, by the evidence of Sir Philip Jennings Clerke, that Palace Yard was in an uproar, filled with mischievous boys and th.3 lowest dregs of the people. Gentlemen of the jury, I have all along told you that the crown was aware that it had no case of treason without connecting the noble pri- soner with consequences which it was in some luck to find advocates to state without proof to support it. I can only speak for myself, that small as my chance is of ever arriving at that high office, I would not accept of it on the terms of being obliged to produce, as evidence of guilt against a fellow-citizen, that which I have been witness to this day. For Mr. Attorney-General perfectly well knew the in- nocent and laudable motive with which the protection was given. Yet he produced it to insinuate that Lord George Gordon, knowing himself to be the ruler of those villains, set himself up as saviour from their fury. We called Lord Stormont to explain this matter to you, who told you that Lord George Gordon came to Buckingham House and begged to see the king, saying he might be of great use in quelling the riots. Can there be on earth a greater pi'oof of conscious innocence ? For if he had been the wicked mover of them, would he have gone to the king to have confessed it by offering to recall his followers from the mis- chiefs he had provoked ? No ! bxit since a public protest issued by himself and the asso- ciation reviling the authors of these mischiefs, the Protestant cause was still made the pretext, he thought his public exertions might be useful, as they might tend to remove the prejudices which wicked men had diffused. The king thought so likewise, and therefore, as appears by Lord Stormont, refused to see Lord George till he had given the test of his loyalty by such exertions. But sure I am our gracious sove- reign meant no trap for innocence, nor ever recommended it as such to his servants. Lord George's language was simply this : " The multitude pretend to be perpetrating these acts under the authority of the Protestant petition. I assure your Majesty they are not the Protestant Association, and I shall be glad to be of any service in suppressing them." I say, by God, that man is a ruffian who shall, after this, presume to build upon such honest, artless conduct as an evidence of guilt. But, gentlemen, if Lord George Gordon had been guilty of high treason, as is assumed to-day, in the face of the cabinet and of the whole par- liament, how are they to defend themselves from the misprision of suffering such a man to go at large and to approach his sovereign ? The man that conceals the perpetration of treason is himself a traitor; but they are all perfectly safe. For nobody thought of treason till fears ai'ising from another quarter bewil- dered their senses. The king, therefore, and his servants very wisely accepted my noble friend's promise of assistance, and he flew with honest zeal to fulfil it. Sir Philip Jennings Clerke tells you that he made use of every expression that it was possible for a man in such circumstances to do. He begged them, for God's sake, to disperse and go home ; hoped the petition would be granted, but that rioting was not the way to effect it. Sir Philip said he felt himself bound, without being particularly asked, to say everything he could in protection of an injured and innocent man, and repeated again that there was not an art he could possibly make use of that he did not zealously employ ; but it was all in vain. " I began," says he, " to tremble for myself; for Lord George read the resolution of 96 THE ORATOR, the House, which was hostile to them, and said their petition wonld not be taken into consider- ation until they were quiet." But did he say, therefore go on to bum and destroy ? On the contrary, he helped to pen that motion, and read it to the multitude, as one which he him- self had approved. After this he went into the coach with Sheriff Pugh, in the city, and there it was that he publicly signed that protection which has been read in evidence against him, although Mr. Fisher, who now stands in my presence, and who has repeatedly told me that he thought Lord George Gordon to be as innocent as the child unborn, confessed in the privy council, that he himself had granted similar protections to various people, yet was dismissed as having done nothing but his duty. Such is the plain and simple truth. For this just obedience to His Majesty's request do the king's servants come to-day into this court, where the king is supposed in person to sit, to turn that obedience into the crime of high treason, and to ask you to put the noble prisoner to death for it. Gentlemen, you have now heard, upon the solemn oaths of honest, disinterested men, a faithful history of the conduct of Lord George Gordon, from the day that he became a member of the Protestant Association to the day that he was committed a prisoner to the Tower, and I have no doubt, from the attention with which I have been honoured, that you have still kept in your minds the principles to which I entreated you would apply the evidence, and that you have measured it all by that standard. You have therefore only to look back to the whole of it together ; to reflect on all you have heard concerning him ; to trace him in your recollection through every part of the transac- tion ; and considering it with one liberal view, to ask your own honest hearts, whether you can say that this noble and unfortunate youth is a wicked and deliberate traitor, who deserves by your verdict to suffer a shameful and ignomini- ous death, and to stain the ancient honours of his house for ever. The crime which the crown would have fixed upon him is, that he assembled the Protestant Association round the House of Commons, not merely to influence and persuade parliament by the earnestness of their supplications, but actually to coerce it by hostile rebellious force. That finding himself disappointed in the suc- cess of this coercive policy, he afterwards incited his followers to abolish the legal indulgences to Papists which the object of the petition was to repeal, by the burning of their houses of worship, and the destruction of their property, which ended at last in a general attack on the property of all oi'ders of men, religious and civil, on the public treasures of the nation, and on the very being of the govern- ment. To support a charge of so atrocious and unnatural a complexion, the laws of even arbi- trary nations would require the most incontro- vertible proof. They would demand either the villain to have been taken ii the overt act of wickedness, or if he worked in secret upon others, his guilt to be brought out by the con- sistent tenor of his conduct, or by the discovery of some plot or conspiracy. The very worst inquisitor that dealt in blood would vindicate the torture at least by plausibility and the semblance of truth. What evidence then will a jury of English- men expect from the servants of the crown, before they deliver up a brother accused before them to ignominy and death ? What proof will their consciences exact ? What will their plain and manly understandings accept of? What does the immemorial custom of their fathers, and the written law of this land, war- rant them in demanding ? Nothing less, in any case of blood, than the clearest and most unequivocal proof. But in this case the statute has not even trusted to the humanity and jus- tice of our general law, but has said in plain, rough, expressive terms proveable, that is, says Lord Coke, not upon conjectural presumptions or inferences, or strains of wit, but tipon direct and plain proof. For the King, Lords, and Com- mons, continues that great lawyer, did not use the word probable, for then a common argument might have served ; but proveable, which signi- fies the highest force of demonstration. Now, what evidence, gentlemen of the jury, does the crown offer to you in compliance with these sound and sacred doctrines of justice ? Nothing but a few broken, interrupted, disjointed words, without context or connection, uttered by the speaker in agitation and heat, and heard by those who relate them to you in the midst of tumult and confusion ; and even these words, mutilated as they are, in direct opposition to, and inconsistent with, repeated and earnest declarations delivered at the veiy same time, and on the very same occasion, related to you by a much greater number of persons, and which are absolutely incompatible with the whole tenor of his conduct, proved to you by respectable witnesses, whom we only ceased call- ing because human life would have been too short to hear the remainder. What can be added to such observations, which, even if they were clear, carry their own explanation in every one of your minds ? Who of us, gentlemen, would be safe, standing at the bar of God, or man, if we were to be judged, not by the regular current of our lives, and con- versations, but by detached and unguarded expressions, picked out by malice, and recorded without context or circumstances against us, THE ORATOR. 97 though, directly inconsistent with other ex- pressions delivered at the same time on the same subject, and though repugnant to the whole tenor of our deportment and behaviour. Yet such is the only evidence by which the crown asks you to dip your hands, and to stain your consciences, in the innocent blood of the noble and unfortunate youth who now stands before you. On the mere evidence of the ivords you have heard from their witness, which, even if they had stood uncontro verted by the proofs with which we have swallowed them up, or unexplained by circumstances which destroy their malignity, could not, at the very most, amount in law to more than a breach of the act of tumultuous petitioning, if such an act still exist. For the worst malice of his ene- mies has not been able to bring oitt the slightest testimony that he has ever directed, countenanced, or approved rebellious force against the legislature of his country ; and without which evidence it is impossible to make a case of treason by the most strained and romantic construction. It is, indeed, as- tonishing to me that men can keep the natural colour of their cheeks, when they ask for blood in such a case, even if the prisoner had made no defence. But will they still continue to de- mand it after what they have heard ? It is, really, hardly to be presumed ! I will, gentlemen, just remind the Solicitor- General, before he begins his reply, what matter he has to encounter. That the going up in a body was not even originated by Lord George, but by others in his absence. That when proposed by him, it was unanimously adopted by the whole association, and consequently their act as much as his ; not determined in a conclave, but with open doors, and the resolution published to all the world ; known to the ministers and magistrates of the country, who did not even signify to him, or to anybody else, that it was dangerous or illegal. That decency and peace were enjoined and commanded; and that the badges of dis- tinction, which are now cruelly turned into the charge of an hostile array against him, were expressly and publicly directed for the preven- tion of disorder; that there was not even a walking-stick among the populace to distm-b the public tranquillity ; and that their demean- our was perfectly decent and temperate till it was disgraced by the acts of a villanous ban- ditti, which have been, however, separated from the Protestant Association by the most incon- trovertible proof; and which, even if not so separated, could not have affected Lord George but by bringing home their conduct to him. While the House of Commons was deliberat- ing, he repeatedly entreated the crowd to behave with decency and peace, and to retire to their NO. XIII. houses. But my noble friend knew not that he was speaking to the enemies of his cause. When they at last dispersed, no man thought or imagined that treason had been committed ; and his lordship was carried home by Sir James Lowther, a gentleman of the first fortune and character, who tells you that on the coach being surrounded by the mob, Lord George be- seeched them to be quiet and to disperse, or par- liament would never listen to their petition. He then returned to bed, where he lay uncon- scious that ruffians were ruining him by their disorders in the night. On Monday, he pub- lished an advertisement, reviling the authors of these riots ; and, as the Protestant cause had been wickedly made the pretext for them, en joining all who wished well to it to behave like good citizens. Nor has the crown even at- tempted to prove that he had either given, or that he afterwards gave, secret instructions in opposition to that public admonition. He after- wards begged an audience to receive the King's commands ; he waited on the ministers ; he attended his duty in parliament ; and when the multitude, amongst whom there was not a man of the Associated Protestants, again assembled on the Tuesday, under pretence of the Protest- ant cause, he offered his services, and read a resolution of the house to them, accompanied with every expostulation which a zeal for peace could possibly inspire ; and because he was speaking to ruffians and papists, and not to the authors of the petition, and who therefore would not obey him, how is that to be imputed to him ? He afterwards, agreeably to the King's direc- tion, attended the magistrates in their duty, honestly and honourably exerting all his power to quell the fury of the multitude ; which cir- cumstance, to the dishonour of the crown, has been scandalously turned against him. Even the protections which he granted publicly in the coach of the Sheriff of London, whom he was assisting in his office of magistracy, are produced in evidence of his guilt, though pro- tections of a similar nature were, to the know- ledge of the whole Privy Council, granted by Mr. Fisher himself, who now stands in my pre- sence unreproved, and who would have explained their tendency, so as to remove every imputa- tion of criminality, had he been examined. What, then, has produced this trial for high treason, or given it when produced the seriousness and solemnity it wears ? What but the inversion of all justice by judging from consequences, instead of from causes and designs ! What but the artful manner in which the crown has ende^voiired to blend the petitioning in a body, and the zeal with which an animated disposition conducted it, with the melancholy crimes that followed ! crimes which the shameful indolence of our 98 THE ORATOR. magistrates, which the total extinction of all police and government suffered to be committed in broad day, in the delirium of drunkenness, by an unarmed banditti, without a head, without plan or object, and without a refuge from the instant gripe of justice : a horde of ruffians, with whom the Associated Protestants and their president had no manner of connec- tion, and whose cause they overturned, dis- honoured, and ruined. How iniquitous, then, is it to attempt, without evidence, to infect your imaginations, who are upon your oaths dispassionately and disinterest- edly to try the offence, of merely assembling a multitude with a petition to repeal a law (which has happened so often in all our memories before) by blending it with the subsequent catastrophe, on which eveiy man's mind may be supposed to retain some degree of irritation ? This is indeed wicked. It is taking the advan- tage of all the infirmities of our nature. Do the prosecutors wish you, while you are listen- ing to the evidence, to connect it with conse- quences in spite of reason and truth, in order to hang the millstone of prejudice round the prisoner's innocent neck ? If there be such men, may Heaven forgive them for the attempt, and inspire you with fortitude and wisdom to do your duty to your fellow-citizen, with calm, steady, reflecting minds ! Gentlemen, I have no manner of doubt that you will. I am, indeed, sure you cannot but see (notwithstanding my great inability, in- creased by a perturbation of mind arising, thank God, from no dishonest cause) that there has been no evidence on the part of the crown to fix the guilt of the late commotions upon my noble client, but that, on the contrary, we have been able to resist the probability I might almost say the possibility of the charge, not only by living witnesses, whom we ceased to call, because the trial would never have ended, but by the evidence of all the blood that has paid the forfeit of that guilt already ; which, I will take upon me to say, is the strongest and most unanswerable proof that the combination of natural events ever brought together for the shield of an innocent man. It is, that in the trial of all the black catalogue of culprits who expired on the gibbets, though conducted by the ablest servants of the crown, with an eye, and a laudable eye, to the investigation of the matter which to-day engages your attention, no one fact appeared which showed any plan, any object, any leader. That, finally, out of forty-four-thousand persons who signed the petition oJ^Ske Protestants, or among those who were^eonvicted, tried, or even apprehended on suspicion ; ,-pr of all the felons that were let loose from prisons, and who assisted in the destruction and plunder of our property, not a single wretch was to be found who could even attempt to save his own life by the plausible promise of giving evidence on the present occasion. Gentlemen, what can overturn such proof as this ? Surely a good man might, without superstition, believe that such an Union of events was something more than the natural issues of life, and that the Providence of God was watchful for the protection of innocence and truth. ; S may now, therefore, relieve youvfrom the pain of hearing me any longer, and be myself relieved from the pain of speaking on a subject which agitates and distresses me. Since, gentlemen, Lord George Gordon stands clear of every hostile act or purpose against the legisla- ture of his country, or the properties of his fellow-subjects since the whole tenor of his conduct repels the belief of the traitorous pur- pose charged in the indictment my task is finished. I shall make no address to your pas- sions. I will not remind you of the long and rigorous imprisonment he has suffered. I will not speak to you of his great youth, of his il- lustrious birth, and of his uniformly animated and generous zeal in parliament for the con- stitution of his country. Such topics might be useful in the balance of a doubtful case ; yet even then I should have trusted to the honest hearts of Englishmen to have felt them without excitation. At present, the plain and rigid rules of justice and truth are sufficient to entitle me to your verdict^and may God Almighty, who is the sacred author of both, fill your minds with the deepest impressions of them, and with virtue to follow those impressions ! You will then restore my innocent client to liberty, and me to that peace of mind, which, since-the pro- tection of that innocence in any part depended upon me, I have never known. LORD PALMERSTOK Horn 1784. [THE following' extract is from a speech delivered by Lord Palmerston on March 1st, 18-18, in answer to an attack upon his foreign policy by Mr. Anstey, M.P. for Youghal.] IN DEFENCE OF HIS FOREIGN POLICY. NOW, in proceeding to continue the state- ment which I was interrupted by the necessary adjournment of the House in making the other day, I really feel that I have some apology to make to the House for detaining them with transactions that occurred twenty years ago, at a moment when the public atten- tion is engrossed by matters of the most over- powering importance, and of the most over- whelming interest, succeeding each other with unexampled rapidity, and which, for the mo- ment at least, must throw into the shade all the interest of those long gone by and frequently THE OEATOE. 99 discussed matters. I have also on my own part to solicit some indulgence from the House, in times like these, when the proper person or corporate body to appoint for such authority as has been imposed upon me, would be the Siamese twins -the one to write all that has to be written, and the other to hear all that he has to hear, and to say all that has to be said. Since this motion has been brought forward, and especially during the last week, I really have not had the time tha* T should wish to devote to methodise and arrange the whole of the matters referred to by the hon. and learned gentleman (Mr. Anstey) in his speech. I trust, therefore, that any want of arrangement on my part, which is a necessary consequence, perhaps, of the want of arrangement on his part, may be pardoned by the House, who other- wise should not be disposed to excuse such deficiency .on the part of those who have any matter to submit to its consideration. The hon. and learned gentleman skipped about from transaction to transaction, and jumbled the , various matters adverted to in his notice in such a manner, that the topics of his speech might be likened to the confused mass of lug- gage brought to the Custom-house by some of the continental steamboats, when no man knows where he is to find his own. Now, the subjects which the notice of the hon. and learned gentleman includes, are 40 in number; they have been already the subject of 139 discus- sions in Parliament, while the correspondence relative to them is contained in no less than 2,775 folio volumes of office papers. Under these circumstances, the House will readily suppose that I must trust mainly to my recol- lection in the statements which I shall feel it to be my duty to make them, and that neither in the last week, nor indeed at any time since this notice has been given, has it been in my power to go through, with that minuteness which would be necessary, the multiplied trans- actions to which the notice relates. I remem- ber a friend of mine mentioning to me the cir- cumstances connected with an accident to a naval officer who was nearly drowned, and afterwards recovered by the ordinary mode of treatment. At the moment of drowning all the events of his past life rushed hurriedly to his recollection. Now, though I have been much threatened and attacked by the hon. and learned gentlemen, I have not been anything like so nearly swamped by him as that all the events of my official life should crowd at one moment to my mental vision. I trust, how- ever, that my memory on all those matters is sufficient to enable me to give to the House such information as will be satisfactory to them. I believe that the best method for me to pursue, will be to take the topics in the order in which they stand on the Notice Paper. The first of these topics is the Treaty of Adrian ople, which appears, in fact, to be the main question to be discussed by the House. With regard to this and all the other topics, I would say that papers concerning them had been laid at the time before Parliament, spon- taneously or at the call of Parliament, contain- ing such a statement of the transactions as appeared to the Government sufficient to explain the transactions which had taken place. The hon. and learned member calls in the first resolution for secret papers, of which there are very few; but I may state that with regard to the correspondence generally of Governments, the practice is this and, I may add, that prac- tice I have invariably followed the practice and the duty of a Government when diplomatic transactions occur which it is desirable that the House and the country should become ac- quamted with the practice is, to lay before Parliament snch portions of the diplomatic transactions that have taken place as will con- vey to Parliament a true and faithful know- ledge of all the main and important circum- stances that occurred. But it is not the duty of the Government but, on the contrary, it would be a breach of that duty if it did so to lay before Parliament such portions of that correspondence as contained mere opinions and confidential communications made by the Foreign Minister to our agents abroad concern- ing other matters, and the publication of which would be injurious to the public service, and would have the effect of defeating the object which Parliament and the Government ought to have in view. The Minister at a foreign court is bound to tell his Government everything he hears, everything he thinks, everything that is stated to him whether in confidence or not, by the Government with whom he is accredited ; and it is manifest that there must be in his despatches a number of communications of various kinds, which, if published, would at once deprive that Minister of all future access to such confidential communications as are essential to the public interest to have made. And I will venture to say that any man who has been at all con- cerned in these matters, either in the Govern- ment or in diplomacy, will at once see that if the rule were acted upon that everything which a foreign Minister writes was strictly to be laid before Parliament, our Minister would soon cease to write anything of benefit or of advan- tage to the Government or to the country. And when portions of the despatches are with- held, it is not with the wish or the intention or the effect of withholding from Parliament knowledge which it is essential Parliament should possess, but simply for the purpose of not exposing your agent to the certainty of being placed in a position which would deprive him of being at any future time nseful to the 100 THE OEATOB. Government. Therefore when the hon. and learned gentleman now moves for papers be- yond those which have been already produced with respect to these transactions, iny answer is that it is not consistent with my public duty to accede to the demand; but at the same time, if the House choose to appoint a Secret Committee to inquire into the whole subject, I can have no objection whatever to such a course. I have only to say, that if a Secret Committee have to go through the 2,775 volumes of documents, I wish them joy of their task. The Treaty of Adrianople itself has been laid before Parliament. * * * * The next motion, or rather two or three motions, relate to transactions of a somewhat ! similar character to the Treaty of Unkiar j Skelessi, and the communications, on the part of Russia, with the Governments of Turkey, Moldavia, and Wallachia. The Treaty of Unkiar Skelessi has been laid before Parlia- ment. That treaty as is well known was no doubt, to a certain degree, forced upon Turkey by the Eussian envoy, Count Orloff, nnder circumstances which rendered it difficult for Turkey to refuse acceding to it. Mehemet Ali had invaded Syria, and had advanced far into Asia Minor, and threatened Constanti- nople. The Sultan applied to the British Government for assistance ; but the British Government was not at that time in a condi- tion to send that assistance. We had not a naval force at our disposal sufficient for the purpose. It was known that Russia had offered assistance. The Russian Government said : " We know that application has been made to England, and we should prefer that England should interfere ; but if England finds it inconvenient to do so, we will give the assistance that is required, and save Constanti- nople from the attack of Mehemet Ali." That was done, and Russia sent a force which did stop the advance of the Egyptian army ; and an arrangement was made between the Sultan and Mehemet Ali, by which Mehemet Ali was to be made Pasha of Egypt, Syria, and a part of Arabia. The British Government were, how- ever, surprised to learn that when the Russian troops quitted the Bosphorus, they carried that treaty away with them. It was, however, a treaty for a limited period that is to say, for a period of eight years. The most objection- able feature in it was, that the Sultan bound himself to consult with the Russian Govern- ment on all the affairs of his empire that he did, practically, give to the Russian Govern- ment a power of interference and dictation in Turkey, both in her internal and external policy, which we thought was not consistent with the independent position which we consi- dered it necessary that Turkey should maintain. But that treaty was concluded ; and whatever might be the objection that England or France was disposed to make to it, it was not compe- tent for either England or France except by a declaration of war to compel the parties to annul it. The only course that we felt it was open to us to pursue was to wait until the treaty should expire, and then to endeavour, by friendly communications, to supersede the ne- cessity on which that treaty was founded, by affording to Turkey a larger protection than was given to her by the single engagement with Russia. Then comes the question of the Treaty of Commerce of 1838, with regard to which I must say, that, though commercial treaties are no novelties in the world, and though the man who negociates one can scarcely have a claim to be ranked with the inventor of printing, or the discoverer of the compass, or other brilliant discoveries, yet I do not wish to detract from the merit which is due to the hon. member for Stafford (Mr. Urquhart) in connection with it. * * * * Now, sir, the hon. member said that Russia had not acceded to this treaty. Other Powers did almost immediately after it was signed ; but Russia did not, and it is true that for a long time Russia held out for former treaties. But, within the last few years, Russia has acceded, for she has concluded a treaty similar in principle and details to the Treaty of 1838, with one exception that permission is given to Russia to prohibit the exportation of certain things to establish a monopoly and to impose certain restrictions, internal restrictions, upon Russian subjects. The British Government has been much pressed by the Turkish Government to consent to similar restrictions upon British subjects ; but, as yet, I have thought it my duty to decline acceding to those requests. We, therefore, stand in this way : We are bound by the Treaty of 1838, and the Russian Government is upon the same footing, because the Russian Government made its assent to the imposition of these restrictions dependent upon those restrictions being accepted also by other European Powers. Really, sir, it is hardly worth while to defend the character of my late lamented friend, Mr. Poulett Thompson (Lord Sydenham), from the imputation, in the discharge of his public duty as a responsible minister of the crown, of being swayed either by private interest, family pur- suits, or any other motive than by a sense of public duty. Those who knew that man and every man who knew him must regret his great and serious loss to the public service must have known that if there was a man that was incapable of swerving from his public duty from any such base and sordid motives as those imputed to him, Lord Sydenham was the man. THE ORATOR. 101 I must therefore, sir, beg to be excused from saying any more on that subject. I can state to the House the differences be- tween the draft of the treaty sent out in con- sequence of communications between Mr. Urquhart, the Board of Trade, and the Foreign Office, and the treaty concluded by Lord Pon- sonby. The draft provided that British goods should pay only the import duty of three per cent., after which they might be transported to, and sold in, any part of the Ottoman domi- nions, without any further payments. The treaty, in addition to the three per cent, import duty, laid on a further duty of two per cent, upon the transport and sale of goods; and beyond that no other duty is to be paid in any part of the Ottoman dominions. This was one of the things to which in negotiation we were obliged to submit. Nobody can suppose, espe- cially in arranging commercial transactions be- tween two countries, that you can go with a draft treaty in one hand, and a pen in the other, and say to a foreign minister, " There, sir, sign that treaty, or jump out of the win- dow." You cannot do that, therefore you must negotiate. The draft makes no provisions with regard to foreign goods purchased, in Turkey by British subjects with the view of their being again sold in Turkey. This was an omission in the draft ; but the treaty provides that foreign goods so purchased may be resold upon the same conditions as Turkish goods. The draft allows the Porte to levy upon goods exported a duty not exceeding the rate of three per cent. ; and in return it allows British subjects to pur- chase all kinds of goods in the Ottoman domi- nions either for resale or exportation, subject only to the payment of the transport duty on such goods, and to the tolls demanded for the maintenance of the roads along which the goods are conveyed : the treaty limits the ex- port duty to three per cent., and admits of duties being levied upon goods purchased by British subjects for resale in Turkey to the same amount as those levied upon subjects of the most favoured nations. It further stipu- lates with regard to goods re-exported, and which may not have paid interior duties, that British subjects shall pay in lieu of such inte- rior duties one fixed duty of nine per cent. It was a great object with us to abolish these inte- rior duties, which were a great obstacle to the progress of British manufactured goods in Turkey, and which being made arbitrarily at the caprice of the governors of the provinces, were uncertain in their amount, and excessively vexatious in their mode of being levied. The draft provides that no duties shall be levied on goods in transitu; the treaty limits the duties on goods in tr/tnsitu to the three per cent, im- post. The draft does not allude to the point I am now about to state. The treaty specifies in detail the various ports of the Ottoman empire at which it is applicable, and records the con- sent of the Porte to other powers settling their commercial matters upon the same basis. Of course it was intended to bring all other powers within the same regulations ; and this is the memorandum I have upon, the draft. The above seems to be the essential point to be dis- cussed. I think I have now stated enough with regard to the commercial treaty. The next motion which stands in order is the Treaty of July, 1840. That treaty, the trans- actions which led to it and which have followed it, have been the siibject of much discussion in. Parliament ; and upon these matters it was my duty to lay upon the table of the House some blue books of no inconsiderable dimensions. I believe, therefore, that Parliament and the country are pretty well supplied with informa- tion upon those transactions ; and, in fact, if they were not, the subject would require far more time than the indulgence of the House would probably accord to me. In point of fact, there is hardly one of these motions forty in number which, to discuss them thoroughly, would not require the whole day. It is clear, therefore, that I can only take the salient points here and there of such objections as struck me to be of force in the course of the hon. and learned gentleman's speech. The his- tory of the treaty of 1840 is simply this : Mehemet Ali wanted to make himself indepen- dent ; but he saw, with the sagacity that belongs to him, that Egypt alone would not form an independent State; and, therefore, he deter- mined to add to Egypt the whole of Syria and Arabia, and such parts of Asia Minor as he could get. He was pi-evented in that determi- nation. He was stopped by the Russians. Ho was persuaded to accept a modified arrange- ment, by which he became Pasha and Governor of Syria and Egypt ; and for a few years he did so, but in the mean time he proceeded to augment his army and to increase his navy, and in 1839 he broke loose again, invaded Asia Minor, and threatened the capital of the Turkish empire. Those familiar with the events of that period will remember the important battles which took place between his forces and the Turkish army, his rapid defeats of the Turks, and the extent to which the Sultan'** power was prostrated before the forces of Mehemet Ali. It became then a matter of serious consideration for the Powers of Europe to determine what they should do, and what would be the consequences of the uninterrupted access of the Russians. Europe had for some years, from 1832 down to 1838-9, been contin- ually kept in a state of anxiety upon the subject of Eastern affairs. We were told that Mehemet Ali was going to take Turkey, but the Russians would interpose ; that England and France 102 THE ORATOR. would not permit Constantinople to be occu- pied by the Russians ; and that there would be a general war in Europe, and that something must be done. "Well, negotiation for a long while prevented an explosion ; but the explosion at last took place. I know it was the opinion of some that it would have been far better to have allowed this new Arabian monarchy or empire to be created ; that we ought to have entered into relations with Mehemet Ali as an independent sovereign ; aiid it did not signify to us or anybody else whether Turkey was in that way dismembered or not. I certainly was not of that opinion ; the Government was not of that opinion ; the other Powers of Europe were not of that opinion. It did appear to all even to Russia that the Turkish empire, as it exists, could be formidable to none of its neigh- bours, but that it is useful as an element in the general peace of the world ; that if Turkey was to be dismembered, there would be a scramble for different portions of her empire, which must complicate the differences between the Powers of Europe, and that a general war, in all probability, would be the result. It was, therefore, thought better, for the sake of peace and for the interests of Europe, to sustain the Turkish empire such as it was, and to prevent its dismemberment by the assault of Mehemet All. England, Austria, Russia, and Prussia, also were of that opinion. We thought at first that France was of that opinion too, for we were in communication with France upon that subject. Indeed, we thought foralongtime that the French Government was disposed to go along with us in the measures that we believed necessary. Dif- ferent views, however, prevailed at length in France. It is not for me to pass judgment upon those views. The fact was that the French Government declared over and over again that they could not, withoiit running counter to public opinion in that country, make themselves a party to any coercive measures for the purpose of stopping the advance of Mehe- met Ali, or obliging him to retire from Syria and content himself with Egypt. The hon. and learned gentleman says that, under these cir- cumstances, the French Government proposed to us to send a squadron to the Dardanelles, and we declined the invitation of the French Government to do so. I think that was not a wise and laudable course, or one by which any- thing was to be avoided. Where was the danger ? The danger was in Syria. What was the object to be accomplished ? To com- pel Mehemet Ali to retire from Syria. What earthly use, then, was it to send a squadron to the Dardanelles ? Squadrons can only act where the enemy is ; and to send a squadron to the Dardanelles to compel Mehemet Ah to retire from Syria, would not very materially have promoted the object in view. We certainly agreed with France, that if anything should pass on the part of Russia (who professed, how- ever, a desire to co-operate with reference to Turkey) of a hostile character, or, if it was thought better, with the view of retaining the independence of Turkey, that naval aid should not be given by Russia alone, but that the flags of England and France should act in conjunc- tion with Russia; and if the Porte should ex- press that opinion, we said we would send such a representative of the naval power of England as might show to the world we were represented by a certain naval force. But I am not con- scious that there was anything to do in the Dardanelles except to show ourselves, and to maintain the position which naturally belongs to England in a joint operation. Then the state of the case was this : The French Go- vernment declined to act in the place where action was necessary, but they were willing to act at the place where no action could operate upon the matter at issue. The hon. and learned member, however, then says, that to the asto- nishment of England, of France, and of all Europe, towards the latter end of the year 1839, Baron Brunow arrived in this country upon a special mission ; and the hon. and learned member stated that Baron Brunow arrived for the pur- pose of putting an end to the mutual distrust which since 1839 had existed between England and Russia. [Mr. ANSTEY : Since 1830.] Well, since 1830. But what then becomes of the charge which the hon. and learned member makes against me of being such a determined instrument in the hands of Russia ? He says from 1830 to 1839, during the nine years in which I was in the office I have now the honour to hold, there had been such mutual distrust between the English and the Russian Governments that it was necessaiy Baron Brunow should be sent as ambassador to re- present the real views of the Emperor, in order to remove that distrust. I am satisfied with that statement, which is likely to be true. Of course, many circumstances had contributed to inspire distrust mutually in the minds of the English and the Russian Governments with regard to the views and intentions of each other ; and it was the object of Baron Brunow to remove that distrust, and to bring a full explanation of the views of the Emperor, which views, he thought, would be satisfactory to the Government of England. But then, says the hon. and learned gentleman, there was another object in the visit of Baron Brunow. He came to induce England to abandon her alliance with Franco, and to abandon also the measures taken for maintaining the integrity of Turkey. If the hon. and learned member was perfectly right with regard to the first part of Baron Brunow 's instructions, he was as completely wrong in his understanding of the second. So THE ORATOR. 103 far was Baron Brunow from being charged to endeavour to induce England to break with France, that one of the most explicit parts of the communication he had to make was this : " We do not ask for it ; we are aware that your posi- tion requires you should be well looked after ; but we do not wish to exclude France in any degree whatever from the general concert which we desire to see estab- lished for the maintenance of the independence of Turkey. All we wish is, that you should fully and per- fectly understand that our policy, as much as yours, is the maintenance of Turkey as it is. We are anxious to co-operate with you, and that you should co-operate with us, in maintaining Turkey such as she is, and in preventing the dismemberment of her empire by means of the establishment of a new kingdom in Syria." Nothing, therefore, could be more frank and honourable towards France, and more directly contrary to that which was asserted by the hon. member, than was the proposition of Baron Brunow. There was, as the hon. and learned gentleman said, a difference of opinion between the British Government and Baron Brunow with regard to the number of ships which should centre at the Dardanelles. That caused a reference to Russia. The Russian Govern- ment acceded to what we proposed, and from that moment the distrust which up to that time had existed between Russia and England was removed; and the English Government was convinced and everything which has since occurred has confirmed that conviction that the policy of Russia in this matter was the same as the policy of England, namely, to maintain the Turkish empire, and to prevent the Turkish territory being severed. Public opinion in France at that period was so strong, that the French Government was prevented being a party to any coercive measures, even had they so deeired, which I am far from asserting ; and the French Government said " If you other powers choose to act, we do not pretend to prevent you, but we say that we cannot be parties to such a proceeding." It is well known that by the gallantry of our admi- rals and fleet by Sir Charles Napier in parti- cular, amongst others those operations were brought in an exceedingly short space of time to a successful issue. The Egyptian troops were compelled to evacuate Syria, and the Pasha was -compelled at last to accept the con- ditions which the Allied Powers offered him conditions which he thought perfectly compa- tible with the independence and integrity of the Turkish empire and conditions which have resulted in removing from that time to this those causes of disturbance and disquiet which for every six months of the six preceding years had placed all the Powers of Europe in immi- nent jeopardy of wars and broils. Our object was the maintenance of peace by the removal of the dangers by which that peace was threatened; and I contend that the circumstances which have occurred since that time have amply proved that the course which we adopted was well calculated to attain that end. From that time to this, we have heard nothing of the affairs of the Levant, except as regards certain local broils between the Druses and the Maro- nites. As far as the peace of Europe is con- cerned, nothing has since occurred calculated to occasion fears for its preservation. W. J. FOX. Born 1786. Died 1864. [As specimens of platform eloquence, the lectures and addresses of W. J. Fox, for many years member for Oldham, will, perhaps, for vigour and earnestness bear favourable comparison with any of his time. Mr. Fox was, we believe, of humble origin, but during the anti- Corn Law agitation was a prominent and able platform champion of the objects of the League, whilst at the same time in his life he contributed the celebrated "Letters of a Norwich Weaver Boy " to the newspapers then issued by the Association. Subsequently he became a preacher in the Unitarian body, after which, to quote the words of a writer in "Men of the Time," " he took a position independent of all sectarian denominations," and for many years preached at the Chapel in South Street, Finsbury. It was whilst so engaged that he delivered his "Lectures to the Working Classes," at the National Hall, Hoi- born, from one of which our selection has been made. His opinions, as will be seen from the extract given, were of the most democratic order; and it was perhaps partly to this cause and to the eloquent audacity with which he avowed them, that his comparative failure in the House of Commons is to be attributed. His presence and manner of delivery were also unfavourable to the chance of his ever becoming a pleasant or attrac- tive orator.] ON THE APPROACHING ANNIVERSARY OF THE BATTLE OE WATERLOO. (From a Lecture delivered I6tk June, 184-1.) mWENTY-NINJG years have rendered the JL battle of Waterloo sufficiently remote for its character and consequences to be justly ap- preciated. Those of us who remember that event seem thereby to belong to another generation. The veterans who celebrate its anniversary are now thinned in their ranks from year to year. The passions and triumphs, hopes and fears of that period, have passed away ; the writer of fiction weaves the event into his composition for effect ; the historian compares documents, calls up his best power of narrative, and tries his skill in philosophizing ; the various interests and combinations of partisanery which then divided the world have become faint and dim ; the schoolmaster points to the battle in his chrono- logical table, and instructs his pupil ; -the mother finds it in her tale-book, and recounts it to her child. And how should the battle of Waterloo be recounted ? With what lessons and appli- cations should it be told ? How should parents ' of the working class present it to their children's minds, so as to " point a moral " as well as " adorn a tale," transmit historic truth faith- fully, reap wisdom from the event, and preserve 104 THE ORATOR. the sense of that responsibility under which we teach whatever tends to the formation of cha- racter and to the guidance of future conduct ; building up the young in the truthfulness, honesty, and patriotism, by which they shall render service in their generation, and do their part faithfully, for the world's improvement. This is what I will endeavour to show in the present lecture. With what feelings and ten- dencies should parents instruct their children in the events of those eventful times ; how make them best subservient to that which is the great object of all education the guidance of the mind in the way in which it should go- to the formation of character according to the truest and noblest principles. Now, in the first instance, it is desirable that the child should be well made to understand what the battle of Waterloo was, and what all battles are. It should not be allowed to rest in a mere collocation of words, the thing itself should be realized to the mind, that tremendous thing of twenty -nine years ago. The imagina- tion of the child should be stimulated ; he should have pictures placed before his fancy ; he should see there the sights and sounds of that awful day. The picture should be presented in its completeness. The ground should be traced to him. The valley, with the opposing hills, xipon the one side crowned with wood ; the mansion, the industrial fann-house, the land covered with the ripening corn he should see them all as the sun was shining upon them a day or two before the battle. He should be taught to behold the gathering of those mighty armies, from 150,000 to 200,000, upon the opposite sides, in the pride, pomp, and circumstance of war their neighing steeds and ponderous artillery, their waving plumes and banners the glittering array on either side, their pride in their leader, their eagerness for the conflict, and the care and caution with which, by both parties, every ar- rangement was made for the opening of that fearful scene. The rainy night, the dull and heavy morning the ceaseless roar of the cannon the impetuous charge the rapid retreat the artillery ranged at different points, and dealing havoc and destruction the clang of martial music the shouts of the victors the screams of the wounded all, all should be realized, down to the last great struggle the defeat the hot pursuit and death dealt on every side upon those who were flying from the field of battle ; and then the outburst of victoiy the messengers speeded to all parts of Europe the ringing of bells the glare of illuminations the shouting of the congregated multitude for the fortune of the world decided upon that tremendous day. Yes, the child should realize all this, and should not stop here. The battle should be looked at with the private soldier's eye, as well as with that of the officer. He should be in- formed of the feeling of those who, through that long drenching night, were shivering, foodless and wearied, so exhausted that even at the noontide of the following clay, when they were ordered to lie down that the cannon-shot might pass over them, some of them fell into deep slumber upon the moist corn-field, amid all the roar of the battle, from which they awoke in the very agonies of death. He should see the field strewed with some 40,000 corpses, heaped to- gether indiscriminately, men of all nations English, French, Germans, Prussians, Poles, all blended there ; and then behold the wounded, with shattered limbs, crawling along upon the ranks and piles of dead. He should then be taken to the temporary hospitals, and there behold the lancet of the surgeon as busily at work as had been the sword of the soldier, the task of amputating limbs, extracting bullets, and binding wounds, proceeding for eight days upon that blood-stained field. He should see the roads from the scene of conflict, in the direction of France at least, marked by the corpses of those who were cut down as they fled, scattered here and there, their blood and brains seeming, as it were, inscriptions telling that " This is the march to Paris of the vast armies that professed to be banded for the independence of nations." From this his mind should pass to the bereaved families by thousands and tens of thousands, the starving orphans and children, the broken- hearted widows, the consequences entailed upon so many by all the ruinous adjuncts of war. He should imagine, in contrast with the glitter- ing procession the troops crowned with laurel the bands playing " See the conquering hero comes ! " the gratulating cheers of the multi- tudes awaiting their return another long pro- cession of sable-garbed mourners, with the bitter tears streaming down their cheeks : he should witness the ruined families, the crowded work- houses, jails, and graves, all these, too, being monuments of the great battle, the glorious victory, of Waterloo. The parent should blink to his child no por- tion of truth connected with such events ; he should give him no partial or one-sided view of the matter. Look at the field of battle all around. Trace all its consequences from that gloomy centre which, as an orb of darkness and misery, radiates over so many nations. He should impress all this upon the mind of the youth ; he should bring together the sufferings of those who perished by hundreds and thou- sands, of fatigue and famine, more numerous than those who fell upon the battle-field. Thus, having assembled all these attendant circum- stances of the battle together, he should bid the child think upon them. He should say to him, " This is battle ! Such is war ! and such was Waterloo ! Understand the event, and then THE ORATOR. 105 you may proceed to moralize upon its causes and consequences." " And what was all this for ? " will be the natural question of the child. I presume the parent can make no better answer than that this was the completion of a succession of efforts to put down the French Revolution for the second French war was the continuation of the first in spirit and purpose. This was the object at the outset. This was the aim at last to replace the Bourbons upon the throne of France ; to bring that country into the condition in which it had been before the revolution ; to wipe that event out of history ; to sponge it, as it were, from any record in the living and actual state of France and Europe, and make it, as much as possible, what it would have been had that event never occurred. That aim was thought to be accomplished. The victory at Waterloo was deemed the triumphant completion of the war against the French revolution. But what was, in reality, the French revo- lution, that nations should have fought against it, or that England especially should have sought its utter extinction ? What, I say, was the French revolution ? The outbreak of a people down-trodden, starved, insulted, spurned, and scorned, till humanity could bear no more. Any just delineation of the state of France before the revolution, the wretchedness of its peasantry, the grinding imposts to which they were sub- jected, the horrible insults to which they were compelled to submit, the licentiousness of its court, the hypocrisy of its church, and the in- solence of its nobles : any true picture of France before the revolution is a full justification of the revolution. Apologize for that event ! Why, France would infinitely more have needed an apology, had there been no revolution. We should have had to find excuse for a people utterly divesting themselves of the best attri- butes of our nature ; submitting to be worse than brutalized ; and with the form of man indicating nothing of that divine spirit within, by which he asserts the dignity of his being, claims his rights, and will not be like the poor worm - trodden upon even without writhing under and against the foot by which he is crushed. Apologize for the French revolution ! I say, we must have apologized not only for France, but for human nature, for the course of events, for the plan of the world, and for the Divine Providence itself, had there been no French revolution. It was to quell this just and inevitable out- break, to expunge it from history, to reverse all that it had done, to turn back the wheels of time : for this it was that Europe fought ; for this did Britain expend its wealth and people ; and for this did Wellington triumph at Waterloo. But then it is said, a mild revolution a moderate reform might have boon a very good xo. xiv. thing in the then existing circumstances of the French nation; but they were so violent, so headlong, and committed so many outrageous deeds, that the gentleness of many classes in this country utterly recoils from the exhibition under any circumstances whatever. We fre- quently meet with people who seem to feel like the dandy when he saw the man broken upon the wheel a cruel punishment, by which in some states a criminal was tied to a large wheel, and the executioner with a massive bludgeon stood over him, banging on his body, a bone cracking at every blow, and the sufferer uttering excruciating groans and yells. " Pray, my dear fellow," said the dandy, " your lot is very hard; but the noise you make is quite vulgar and outrageous." In like manner would these sen- sitive individuals have had the French people bear their wrongs, and make their changes as tenderly and gingerly, as if a mere turnpike bill had been the sum and substance of the whole matter in discussion, and they could . have afforded to set forth in the coolest and calmest manner the wrongs they had endured, and the rights which, as human beings, they desired and claimed. It is not in the nature of things that such should have been the case. The French revolution was a natural reaction, the result of the principles of our being, which work as in- fallibly under such circumstances as do the mighty powers and elements of the material world in their combination, when the liquid metals and liberated gases are commingling and exploding in the bowels of the earth. When the volcano roars and the earthquake shakes down towns and cities, you cannot then inter- pose, and say to Nature, " Be moderate, and effect your changes and revolutions more gently than this ! " It is not in the elements of things, or in their laws, that such should be the case ; nor is it in those of our own being, when the tyranny of ages is to be heaved off from the breast of a nation that it may breathe freely ; when humanity starts up to a full sense of the enjoyment of its rights and dignity from a state of degradation it is not, I say, in the nature of man that this should be done quietly. " Great evils ask great passions to redress them, And whirlwinds fitliest scatter pestilence." Had the French taken counsel of more mo- derate persons, they would have made a nice little revolution, like that which occurred in England in 1688. Great care would have been taken with the change of persons to alter no principles. One set of people, perhaps, would have moved off from the possession of good things, and another set would have moved into their enjoyment, unless, indeed, the same parties had maintained their standing just by the change and transfer of their allegiance. There might have been a little incidental massacre, like that at Glencoe, or a bit of civil war like that which 106 THE ORATOR. occurred in Ireland, concluding with a treaty only made to be violated. A little toleration might have been established, and a good deal of penalty inflicted by the side of that toleration. The plan might have been introduced of ruling a country through a Parliament, instead of the old plan, without a Parliament. A very gentle land tax might have been laid by the aristocracy upon their own ample estates ; a system of corruption and influence might have been sub- stituted for one of prerogative, and that mode of having recourse to public credit been resorted to, by which one generation makes all succeeding generations pay for its own follies, madness, and extravagance. But then the bad principles of the French revolution rendered it, we are told, a thing to be guarded against. War against principle is at all times a very hopeful undertaking ; it will succeed when you can knock down argument with a cannon-ball, and when you can pierce a proposition with a bayonet; but until that 'happens, war against principle is more likely to lead to the confirmation of such principle than anything else. But we are told much of the anarchy and atheism of tliat period. What does that charge mean r* Why take the most far-going and free- writing authors who preceded the revolution ? Were Voltaire and Rousseau anarchists and atheists ? Those who say so know nothing about their writings, or read them with that purblind prejudice which sees what it intends to see, and not what is really before it. Both of those writers did as much against atheism, and with as much effect, as any man that ever graced our bench of bishops. And then as to the charge of disregard of the rights of property at that time. Why, in the creed even of the Mountain faction, property was a foremost article. Property was as sacred in France through the revolutionary times as it now is in this country ; and more sacred than it is at this moment here, if the property in question consists of labour. In looking at the French revolution, one thing should never be forgotten. The people were driven to it in the first instance. The principles which they laid down were the simplest and the broadest ; such as human nature, left to itself, everywhere recognizes. "A man's a man, for a' that," -we -often say and sing, and no class objects at present to our doing so ; and yet that was the principle of the French revolution. " All ye are brethren," is a Christian doctrine ; and yet that was theprinciple of theFreuch revolution. Clothe them in hateful colours as you may, you cannot strip from the eye of posterity the fact that the principles of the French revolution the principles of liberty, equality, and human rights are sacred and eternal principles belonging to all morality and religion. They were so judged at the time by men who had eyes to see and hearts to feel ; by men like that pure, noble-minded genuine Christian philanthropist, Roscoe, of Liverpool, who hailed the annunciation of such principles with the whole fervour of his soul ; and when the National Convention put forth its celebrated Declaration of Rights, invoked all the powers of nature to give it sanction : " catch its high import, ye winds as ye blow, bear it, ye waves, as ye roll : From the nations that feel the sun's vertical glow, To the farthest extremes of the pole. Equal rights, equal laws to the nations around, Peace and freedom, its precepts impart ; And wherever the footsteps of man can be found, May he bind the decree on his heart," Crimes, no doubt, there were sanguinary and enormous crimes, perpetrated during the course of the French revolution. But, be it remembered that these acts were done in self- defence. The revolution itself was completed peacefully, and no proof whatever is capable of being adduced, that a peaceably accomplished event it would not have remained had it been let alone. But the fact is, there was a ceaseless struggle for a counter-revolution a struggle carried on continually within, and stimulated from without. The revolution was never secure for a day ; there were always persons in different ranks of society plotting. Foreign gold was circulating there to bribe domestic treason ; and all Europe in arms was thundering on the frontiers. Is it wonderful that crimes were committed in self-defence in the circumstances in which they were placed? Blockade a man in his own house bribe his servants put gun- powder under his bed set fire to his dwelling already surrounded by banditti and then you must not be surprised if his conduct is rather extravagant, and he becomes somewhat violent. Let there be no exaggeration here. In describing this event, we speak as though the streets of Paris had for years and years flowed with blood. Much there was indeed shed of real noble blood: many fell under the guillotine who deserved statues raised to their honour, and a niche in history many who, if they had lived in this country at no great distance of time, would have had their chance of being hanged under the reign of terror of William Pitt; for if the French literary, philosophic, and patriotic men suffered, we must not forget that our honest Hardy, and not only men of the shoemaking class, bat that our Holcrofts, and Thelwalls, and Home Tookes our men of philosophy, literature, art, and genius were also perilled, and it was by no virtue of the then ruling power that we did not commit some crimes as foul as any of those that stained the progress of the French revolution. And then as to the number who fell during the revolution. Mr. Carlyle has gone into this THE OEATOE. 107 subject very appropriately in his celebrated work. When the reign of terror was over, the authentic returns stated the victims to amount to 2,000, and even the emigrants, who took exception to the accuracy of that return, have not calculated more than double the number. Many of the'sufferers were distinguished persons, and therefore the crime made a noise all over Europe. But be the number of victims either 2,000 or 4,000, there have been periods when, by the operation of the corn-law monopoly in this country, in one single year as much human life has been destroyed as was sacrificed by the guillotine in the French revolution. The victims of the corn-law are not only more numerous than those of the French revolution, but the kind of death the abridgment of food, the sinking of the heart, the breaking down into abject poverty the falling almost from moral compulsion into crime, with all the horrible sensations and agencies that belong to it. O ! these are ten thousand times worse than the sudden stroke of the guillotine which at once destroys sensation. * * * # Having thus reviewed the war as antagonistic of the French revolution, and having regarded the events which were adjuncts to it, the child will naturally inquire after its consequences. " What was the use of this grand victory P " will be the question put to the teacher. Well, the battle of Waterloo replaced the Bourbons ; and where are they now ? The son of Monsieur Egalite is upon the throne of France, and sits there nominally as " the citizen king," by the voice of the people, and not " by the grace of God." The Bourbons reigned fifteen years, and those fifteen years of Bourbon rule required twenty-three years of hard fighting to obtain. For every hour which they reigned over France 100 lives had been sacrificed upon the battle- field, to say nothing of the tears and miseries and the horrors that attend a state of war, and the wretchedness which it propagates to the remotest distances. The reign of an archangel would have been dearly purchased at such a cost as that. Well, it is said, they triumphed over French principles by the battle of Waterloo. I should like to know what principles they conquered. They have not triumphed over my opinion or yours; they have not destroyed the thoughts and tendencies of the people of France. Civil equality is established there, and exists there in a higher degree than in any other country on the face of the earth. There the cabman, if insulted by the marshal, may take his honour- able revenge for the insult this, too, in a land where Voltaire was beaten by hired menials, and refused what was called the satisfaction of a gentleman because lie was not of noble origin. Civil equality exists there, and an open career or talents, which may rise, and that too with- out the accommodations and subserviency which are often so necessary in this country to attain distinction. The prime minister there may live upon a third floor, and be thought none the worse on that account. They have liberty of speech far more so than the prejudices of society which are fostered here will allow. In France, if a man prefers Socrates to Jesus Christ, he says so, and nobody thinks of banish- ing him from society for so doing. Here, if a man is poor and zealous, and rather rough in declaring his principles, he gets himself into a jail; and if he is in higher circumstances, why then he holds his tongue, and protests against being identified with anything so atrocious ; perhaps takes part in encouragement of the pro- secution which makes a jail the recompense of the opinions he holds in his heart. Besides all this, they have in France and this is the grand barrier against counter-revolutions a landed proprietary of 4,000,000 people. They have eighty times the number of owners of the soil which we have ; of course, not upon so large a- scale, with such enormous wealth, nor indivi- dually possessed of a similar extent of political influence. They have a sense of independence arising from property in land, which perhaps scarcely anything else in the world can give to the same degree or extent. They have a nu- merous, comfortable, bold, independent body of men, neither very rich nor very poor, but able to hold their own, and to transmit it to posterity. And the fear of the political economist, that property should be subdivided until they get to the state of the Irish cotter, never disturbs them, for nothing of the sort takes place, because they have not to compete in their rent to an absentee landlord ; they have not to starve them- selves in order to get the shelter of a fortress against starvation in their little bit of land ; but they have the world before them, being shareholders in the soil upon which they tread, and are just the sort of people, if their land be assailed, to defend it to the last gasp. Well, then, the French revolution is not put down after all. Its principles survive ; many of its practical results are enjoyed, and that to an extent which makes it no very dear bargain that the countiy paid for them with long years of trouble and a great deal of bloodshed. For how much good, of far less amount, not to be brought for an instant into comparison with the blessings we have enumerated, have wars been waged, treasure lavished, blood shed, the countiy. kept in commotion, and the tide of civilization and improvement been thrown back. The battle of Waterloo was a remarkable instance of the combination of military triumph with political discomfiture. That war was permanently to settle Europe, and a pretty settlement it was. Spain is not quite trr.nquil yet. Greece was 108 THE OllATOB. soon settled in a different way from what the allied sovereigns then intended. Holland was settled by the separation of Belgium from it, Ireland was so settled that the very champions of intolerance themselves had to concede Catholic emancipation. England was settled in a way which required the massacre in the north, and which led to the incendiarism of the south which necessitated the Reform Bill, and which will demand greater changes yet. The struggle, which was maintained with massacre and cannon abroad, not only failed there, but fails here. From day to day we see the indubitable proofs that that strife is not terminated, that the fancied victory is not gained. Although its hero may have most judiciously disposed his troops in Ireland, the spirit of agitation there Heaven prosper it ! is working its way peace- fully, legally, but determinately, towards what I think is due to Ireland not separation, but justice ; freedom, and any degree of legislative independence which it is the will of that nation to require, and which I believe it will obtain exhibiting the spectacle of the victor of Napoleon becoming the vanquished of Daniel O'Connell. After a review of the facts and bearings of that memorable time, the parent, I think, will do well to lead his child to moralize upon ivar and the military profession. I answer for no one but myself; and, in fact, what I say here I wish ever to be understood as being not only my own personal opinion, but as thrown out not for reception, but for investigation. But in my opinion and therefore, I should like that point seriously considered by the parent in training his child the military profession is not an honest one. Christianity, or any other system of morality, ill deserves such a name, if it allow.-) the hiring out of physical strength for the shedding of human blood, at the bidding of others, without having one's own conscience in the matter. Let the parent, if he sees the question in this light, instil into his child's mind these principles, that he may never be likely to become a red-coated slave to others that he may consider it as the privilege of humanity that we are moral beings that con- science is inalienable, and that the general, the government, and the monarch, cannot hold that for us, nor dispense with our obedience to its sacred decrees. There is the first obligation of our being the very soul of duty ; and he who puts it out of his power to judge of the justice of the cause in which he is performing " the duties," as they are called, of a soldier, parts with all that divides man from the brute, driven by the agency and the will of another he places himself in a position so degraded, that we may well blush to see humanity brought down to that level. The cost of wars and their results in im- peding the advancement of civilization, will form another branch of moral disquisition, which the parent should study for himself, and throw light upon for his child. This same French war cost us an addition to our debt of 600,000,000 sterling, and has burdened us with 30,000,000 annually of permanent taxes. The very first year after the establishment of peace all over the world, by this great victory of Waterloo, the estimates were for 170,000 soldiers, to be kept on foot by this country as a standing army. A standing army ! What have free states to do with such a thing as that ? When I denounce the military pro- fession as unchristian, I may, perhaps, be asked, " Are you, then, for unarming the nation ? " No ; I would arm the nation. It should indeed be the nation. Under such circumstances, if the country was in danger of invasion, every man would turn out at once with his musket upon his shoulder. Give the people institutions which attract their veneration and love ; give them laws which administer justice to the millions, and bring it to the door of the poor man's cottage ; give them establishments and improvements which secure to all the remune- ration of their toil and services to the commu- nity making them as happy as a rightful distribution of the produce and the wealth of a nation can render humanity and you will have an invincible people, before whom all hireling bands will be scattered as chaff before the wind. Teach your children lessons such as these, growing out of the events, which may be laid before them in all varieties and forms. It is time to turn them to such account. Truth, goodness, and wisdom even these may grow as if manured with the blood shed at Waterloo. The evils of the past are fruitful of blessings for the future. Let the page of history be turned with a careful hand let it be read with an observant eye pondered with a reflective mind; and rich will the fruit become in stores with which he may endow his son a noble and worthy heritage, teaching him to judge better than his fathers did of the merit which nations should recompense, and the crimes which they should denounce. Oh, there are those, by their inventions, mitigating toil, who have multiplied the means of enjoyment upon the face of the earth who, by their discoveries, have aided the advance of science, and let in the light of heaven where all had been as dark as the dungeon. Then there are those whose writings form our intellectual heritage and enrichment. There are the philanthropists who have led society onward, healing the wounded, and strengthening the right-minded. THEY are the world's benefactors and heroes those who, by their disinterested exertions, their long and painful study, and their noble sacrifices, have conquered good for hu- manity. These are the men to whom statues and pillars should be raised theirs the times THE ORATOR. around whose record the pen of the historian should glow with unwonted eloquence these should the voice of public gratulation hail, awarding to them a higher meed of public and lasting gratitude than the best services of the warrior in the field of battle ever won, or ever could possibly deserve. Battles cannot win good of this description : it is by peaceful arts that society advances ; it is by the powers of mind, in their benign influence upon the arrangements of life, public institutions, and private character; it is by these that the world gets its good ; it is in reference to these that the youthful mind should be trained. As generation after genera- tion sees this matter more clearly, and appre- ciates more justly the achievements of the distinguished the peacefully distinguished in that proportion will honour be awarded to the worthiest ; the nation will look back on its train of benefactors with iinfeigned veneration, and the anniversaries it will celebrate will be those in which some great discovery or invention has been made for the good of society, or some important advance effected in political liberty, giving to those benefits their permanence and security. BENJAMIN DISRAELI. Born 1805. Living. [THE speech which follows, containing, as it does, a fine estimate of the life and character of the late Prince Consort, was delivered by Mr. Disraeli in the House of Commons on its re-assembling in January, 18(52, for the first time after the great national loss to which the speaker so eloquently referred. As a specimen of care- ful and elaborate English it is well worthy of the atten- tion of the oratorical student, but it is not to be looked upon as in any way representative of Mr. Disraeli's accustomed style. Some illustrations of his more vehe- ment moods, and of that brilliant sarcastic force which have, in no small measure, contributed to raise Mr. Disraeli to his present leading position as an orator in the House of Commons, will bo given later on in this volume.] CHARACTER OF THE PUIXCE COXSOBT. NO person can be insensible of the fact that the House meets to-night under circum- stances veiy much changed from those which have attended our assembling for many years. Of late, indeed for more than twenty years past, whatever may have been our personal rivalries and our party strifes, there was at least one sentiment in which we all acquiesced, and in which we all shared, and that was a sentiment of admiring gratitude to that throne whose wisdom and goodness so frequently softened the acerbities of our free public life, and so majes- tically represented the matured intelligence of an enlightened people. All that has changed. He is gone who was the comfort and support of that throne. It has been said that there is nothing which England so much appreciates as the fulfilment of duty. The prince whom we have lost not only was eminent for the fulfil- ment of his duty, but it was the fulfilment of the highest duty ; and it was the fulfilment of the highest duty under the most difficult cir- cumstances. Prince Albert was the consort of his Sovereign. He was the father of one who might be his Sovereign. He was the prime councillor of a realm, the political constitution of which did not even recognise his political existence. Ytt, under these circum stances, so difficult and so delicate, he elevated even the throne by the dignity and purity of his domes- tic life. He framed, and partly accomplished, a scheme of education for the heir of England which proves how completely its august pro- jector had contemplated the office of an English king. In the affairs of state, while his serene spirit and elevated position bore him above all the possible bias of our party life, he showed, upon every great occasion, ah 1 the resources, all the prudence, and all the sagacity of an expe- rienced and responsible statesman. I have presumed, sir, to touch upon three instances in which there was on the part of Prince Albert, the fulfilment of duty of the highest character, under circumstances of the greatest difficulty. I will venture to touch upon another point of his character, equally distinguished by the ful- filment of duty ; but in this instance the duty was not only fulfilled, but it was created. Al- though Prince Albert was adopted by this country, he was, after all, but a youth of ten- der years ; yet such was the character of his mind that he at once observed that, notwith- standing all those great achievements which long centuries of internal concord and of public liberty had permitted the energy and enterprise of Englishmen to accomplish, there was still a great deficiency in our national character, and which, if neglected, might lead to the impairing not only of our social happiness, but even the sources of our public wealth, and that was a deficiency of culture. But he was not satisfied in detecting the deficiency, he resolved to supply it. His plans were deeply laid ; they were maturely considered, and notwithstanding the obstacles which they encountered, I am pre- pared to say they were eminently successful. What might have been his lot had his term completed that which is ordained as the average life of man, it may be presumption to predict. Perhaps he would have impressed upon his age not only his character but his name ; but this I think posterity will acknowledge, that he heightened the intellectual and moral standard of this country, that he extended and expanded the sympathies of all classes, and that he most beneficially adapted the productive powers of' England to the inexhaustible resources of science and art. It is sometimes deplored by those who loved and admired him, that he was thwarted occasionally in hia enterprises, and 110 THE OEATOE. that he was not duly appreciated in his works. These, however, are not circumstances for regret but for congratulation. They prove the leading and original mind which so long and so advan- tageously laboured for this country. Had he not encountered these obstacles, had he not been subject to occasional distrust and misre- presentation, it would only have proved that he was a man of ordinary mould and temper. Those who move must change, and those who change must necessarily disturb and alarm pre- judices; and what he encountered wa- only a demonstration that he was a man superior to his age, and admirably adapted to carry out the work he had undertaken. Sir, there is one point, and one point only, on which I would presume for a moment to dwell ; and it is not for the sake of you, sir, whom I am now ad- dressing, or for the generation to which we belong, but it is that those who come after us may not misapprehend the nature of this illus- trious man. Prince Albert was not a patron. He was not one of those who, by their smiles and by their gold, reward excellence or stimulate exertion. His contributions to the cause of progress and improvement were far more power- ful and far more precious. He gave to it his thought, his time, his toil : he gave to it his life. I see in this House many gentlemen on both sides, and in different parts of it who occasionally entered with the Prince at those council boards where they conferred and de- cided upon the great undertakings with which he was connected ; and I ask them, without the fear of a denial, whether he was not the leading spirit whether his was not the mind that foresaw the difficulty, and his the resources that supplied the remedy whether his was not the courage to overcome apparently insurmount- able obstacles, and whether every one who worked with him did not feel that he was the real originator of those great plans of improve- ment which they contributed to carry out. Sir, we have been asked to-night to condole with the Crown in this great calamity. That is no easy office. To condole in general is the office of those who, without the pale of sorrow, feel for the son-owing ; but in this instance the country is as heart-stricken as its Queen. Yet, in the mutual sensibilities of a Sovereign and a people there is something ennobling, some- thing that elevates the spirit beyond the ordi- nary claim of earthly sorrow. The counties, and cities, and corporations of the realm, and those illustrious institutions of learning, of science, of art, and of skill, of which he was the highest ornament and the inspiring spirit, have bowed befoi'e the throne under this great calamity. It does not become the Parliament of the country to be silent. The expression of our feelings may be late, but even in that lateness some propriety may be observed if to-night we sanc- tion the expression of the public sorrow, and ratify, as it were, the record of a nation's woe. It is with these feelings that I shall support the address in answer to the speech from the throne. THE EAEL OF DEEBY. Born 179D. Lii-tny. [!T may perhaps be interesting to compare the sub- joined speech by the great leader of the Conservative party in the House of Lords, delivered, as it was, on the same evening and under the same circumstances as that of Mr. Disraeli, which here precedes it. For this reason, and because in some respects it views the cha- racter of the Prince Consort from a different stand- point from that of the noble lord's representative in the Commons, it has been added in this place.] ANOTHER ESTIMATE or THE PRINCE CONSORT'S CHARACTER. T Y LOEDS, the present is an occasion, if ever there was one, on which it is de- sirable that nothing should occur to mar the harmony, or interfere with the unanimity with which we should carry our address to the throne. One of the main topics of that address is to express our sympathy with her Majesty on that deep affliction with which it has pleased Providence to visit her, and at the same time our sense of the irreparable loss which the country has sustained from that calamity. The lamented Prince Consort was called sud- denly, in early manhood, to a station the most exalted and the most perilous, surrounded by every temptation, having at his command every luxury that hniuan heart could wish for. For a period of two-and-twenty years he blame- lessly discharged all the duties of a husband and a father. He made his household the model of domestic order and family affection. Placed in a position of the extremest delicacy, he so conducted himself that even the breath of calumny never ventured to insinuate against him the slightest abuse of the influence attach- ing to his high position. That illustrious Prince, whose loss we all lament, and to whose merits so much justice has been done in such eloquent and feeling terms by the noble lord who moved and my noble friend who seconded the address, was illustrious in the truest and highest sense of the word. Such a term indeed is inade- quate to express his worth. He has passed from amongst us in the very prime of life, in the full vigour of bodily activity and intellectual power. But he has not passed away without leaving his mark behind upon the age in which he lived. He never condescended to natter : on the contrary, upon some occasions he even went to the very verge of indiscretion in pointing out defects ; and yet he pursued steadily, silently, and most unostentatiously, that line of life which he had chalked oni for himself. He sue- THE ORATOR. Ill ceeded in establishing an impress of himself, which, will long endure, upon the habits, the feelings, and the tastes of this country. Few men have had the opportunity of knowing how wide his Royal Highness's range of study -how few the intervals he allowed to the most harm- less and innocent recreations how assiduously he exercised a mind of more than ordinary natural powers, and more than ordinary cultiva- tion ; how he, as it were instinctively, seized upon the main and leading principles of every question submitted to his consideration, and how unfal- teringly he worked every question out in its minutest details. My lords, this is not the place to say that ample justice will be done to him, but the country will, day by day, have more ample means of estimating the services which he rendered to the cause of art and science ; nor is this the place to speak of the stimulus which he gave by his personal atten- tion and by his unremitting efforts in the pro- motion of everything which would tend to im- prove the domestic comfort of the humbler classes of the community, to expand the mind and increase the sphere of intellectual em'oy- incnt, and raise the social and moral condition of every class of her Majesty's subjects. The debt which is due to him from the country on these grounds can hardly be estimated at pre- sent, and I fear it will only be estimated in its intensity in the loss of the advantages to which 1 have referred. But, my lords, this is the place in which one word at least should be said upon a different portion of his life ; I mean upon the part which he took with regard to public affairs. Some years ago, I recollect, it was a matter of not unnatural constitutional jealousy that any interference with public affairs should take place from one who was altogether irresponsible to the authorities of the country. My lords, those persons who so ar- gued argued upon a not unnatural constitu- tional jealousy, but they argued in forgetful- ness of the very dictates of human nature, and required that which was rendered impossible by the very constitution of the human mind. For they required what amounted, in fact, to this : that tv. r o persons should be living in the closest and most intimate relations, in the most absolute confidence which can subsist between husband and wife, and yet that the opinions of the one should be altogether concealed, and that the thoughts of the one should altogether abstain from a consideration of those topics which, day by day, and hour by hour, must be a subject of engrossing care and anxiety to the other. My lords, the very statement of facts shows the impossibility of meeting the views of those persons who so argued. I should say there was occasion for that jealousy, if in his high position the Prince Consort had ever made himself the tool, or sought to subserve the machinations of political parties in England. I am sure every one who had an opportunity of judging will agree that no one could be more absolutely and entirely free from such imputa- tions, and that the whole of his efforts were directed, irrespective of party altogether, to give his Sovereign and his wife that counsel and advice which he thought most befitting his position. But if it was desirable that there should be this influence between the Sovereign and the Prince Consort on the subject of public affairs, how much more desirable was it that it should be exercised by him with a full know- ledge of every political circumstance, of the views brought forward by the Minister, and .of all the discussions which took place, than that it should be exercised in private, and with an imperfect knowledge of the grounds upon which certain questions were submitted to her Ma- jesty. And, my lords, I appeal confidently to all who have had the honour to be admitted to that personal intercourse with the Sovereign which is the highest privilege of a Minister whether from the presence of his Royal High- ness, whether from his calm, and cool, and im- partial judgment, whether from his great abiiitj-, and the manner in which he applied himself to every topic, they have not been frequently indebted to him for valuable and useful sug- gestions and for great assistance. In the Prince Consort the Queen has lost not only the husband of her youth, the father of her child- ren, him to whom her youthful affections were freely given and have in maturer years only increased and intensified with conjugal love, but she has also lost the familiar friend, the trusted counsellor, the never-failing adviser, to whom she could look up in every difficulty and in every emergency, and to whom she did look up with that proud humility which none but a woman's heart can know, glorying in the intel- lectual superiority of him to whom her own will and her own judgment were freely put into subjection. My lords, I do not doubt but that in the affection of the surviving members of her family she has a source of consolation ; but in the discharge of public duties she must hence- forth tread alone the high and thorny paths of sovereignty the sustaining hand, the guiding judgment, the never-failing counsellor, are hers no more. And who, my lords, can hear without the deepest emotion how, in the full consciousness of her utter desolation and of her aggravated responsibility, in the very presence of death, in the first moment of that agony of grief, rising as it were beneath the overwhelming weight of that crushing sorrow, she uttered the noblo words, that, with God's blessing, she would dis- charge the duties which were devolving upon her. My lords, I cannot pursue the subject ; but of this I am confident, that of those who hear me there is not one who will not join in 112 THE OBATOB. the fervent prayer to God that she may be strengthened in. this noble resolve, and that He who has seen fit to inflict this heavy blow, and to deprive her of him who was on earth her comfort and support, may be Himself her comfort and support in this deep, deep grief. My lords, the words of our address may be inade- quate ; they are inadequate. But if they convey inadequately, they convey unfailingly, not only the expression of your lordships' unanimous feel- ings, but the unanimous expression of a nation's devoted loyalty, deep and grateful and loving as it is. My lords, in the presence of this sorrow, I am satisfied it will be the desire of all on both sides of this and the other House of Parliament to contribute all in their power to spare her Majesty one additional care, one additional sorrow, added to those which press so heavily upon her. For my own part, and those with whom I have the honour to act, such, I am sure, will be the spirit in which we shall enter upon the business of this session of Parliament. I earnestly trust, and from the tcnour of the speech I am hopeful that her Majesty's Ministers are disposed to meet us in the same spirit ; that they are disposed to apply themselves to those useful and practical matters in which all can alike join harmoniously and cordially for the improvement and advancement of our common country ; and not only to abstain from bringing forward themselves, but to dis- courage in others the agitation of topics of more violent controversy and discussion, which, in their possible results, add to the anxieties and to the cares of the Sovereign. DANIEL O'CONNELL. Born 1775. Died 1847. [ANY standard collection of speeches would be in- complete without some specimens of the style of the great Irish " Agitator," as he himself delighted to be called. Though not of the highest or noblest type, the eloquence of O'Connell had at the time of its delivery an almost resistless power, and it was said that Lord Derby, in the days of O'Connell Mr. Stanley, was the only man that the great demagogue ever feared in debate. It has, however, been well observed that " his chief characteristic as a daring leader of the people against the existing order of things was the wonderful sagacity with which he could march along the boundary- line of strict legal action without crossing it, or com- mitting either himself or his followers." At the Irish bar he was beyond question the first advocate of his day, whether for oratory or ready adaptation of the law. The speech selected below was delivered at a meeting of the citizens, freemen, and freeholders of the city of Dublin, held at the lloyal Exchange, on Tues- day, 18th Sept., 1810, to consider *of a petition to the King and Parliament, praying them to take into con- sideration the repeal of the Act of Union ; Sir James Iliddcll, High Sheriff of the city of Dublin, in the chair. Some other speeches from the same source will bo found later in this volume.] REPEAL OF THE UNION. [A resolution in favour of an address to the King and the Imperial Parliament, praying a repeal of the Act of Union having been proposed and carried, Mr. O'Connell, on commencing his speech, declared that] HE offered himself to the meeting with unfeigned diffidence. He was unable to do justice to his feelings on the great na- tional subject on which they had met. He felt too much of personal anxiety to allow him to arrange in anything like order, the many topics which rushed upon his mind, now that, after ten years of silence and torpor, Irishmen began again to recollect their enslaved countiy. It was a melancholy period, those ten years a period in which Ireland saw her artificers starved her tradesmen begging her merchants become bankrupts her gentry banished her nobility degraded. Within that period do- mestic turbulence broke from day to day into open violence and murder religious dissensions were aggravated and embittered credit and commerce were annihilated taxation aug- mented in amount and in vexation. Besides the "hangings-off " of the ordinary assizes, we had been disgraced by the necessity that existed for holding two special commissions of death, and had been degraded by one rebellion and, to crown all, we were at length insulted by being told of our growing prosperity. This was not the painting of imagination it bor- rowed nothing from fancy it was, alas ! the plain representation of the facts that had oc- curred the picture, in sober colours, of the real .state of his ill-fated countiy. There was not a man present but must be convinced that he did not exaggerate a single fact : there was not a man present but must know that more miseiy existed than he had described. Such being the history of the first ten years of the Union, it would not be difficult to convince any unprejudiced man, that all those calamities had sprung from that measure. Ireland was fa- voured by Providence with a fertile soil, an excellent situation for commerce, intersected by navigable rivers, indented at every side with safe and commodious harbours, blessed with a fruitful soil, and with a vigorous, hardy, gene- rous, and brave population ; how did it happen , then, that the noble qualities of the Irish people were perverted ? that the order of Pro- vidence was disturbed, and its blessings worse than neglected P The fatal cause was obvious it was the Union. That these deplorable effects would follow from that accursed measure was prophesied. Before the Act of Union passed, it had been already proved that the trade of the country and its credit must fail as capital was drawn from it; that turbulence and violence would increase, when the gentry were removed to residence in another country ; that the taxes should increase in the same pro- portion as the people became unable to pay THE OBATOK, 113 them. "13 at," continued Mr. O'Connell, "neither the argument nor the prophetic fears have ended with our present evils. It has also been demonstrated, that as long as the Union con- tinues, so long must our misfortunes accumu- late. The nature of that measure, and the experience of facts which we have now had, leave no doubt of the truth of what has been asserted respecting the future. But, if there be any still incredulous, he can only be of those who submit their reason to authority. To such person, the authority of Mr. John Foster, Chancellor of the Exchequer for Ireland, would probably be conclusive; and Foster has assured us, that final ruin to our country must be the consequence of the Union. I will not dwell on the miseries of my country ; I am dis- gusted with the wretchedness the Union has produced ; and I do not dare to trust myself with the contemplation of the accumulation of sorrow that must overwhelm the land, if the Union be not repealed ; I beg to call the atten- tion of the meeting to another part of the subject. The Union, sir, was a violation of our national and inherent rights a flagrant injustice. The representatives whom we had elected for a short period of eight years had no authority to dispose of their country for ever. It cannot be pretended that any direct or express authority to that effect was given to them ; and the nature of their delegation ex- cludes all idea of their having any such by implication. They Avere the servants of the nation, empowered to consult for its good not its masters, to make traffic and dispose of it at their fantasy or for their profit. I deny that the nation itself had a right to barter its inde- pendence, or to commit political suicide; but when our servants destroyed our existence as a nation, they added to the baseness of assassina- tion all the guilt of high treason. The reason- ing upon which those opinions are founded is sufficiently obvious. They require no sanction from the authority of any name neither do I pretend to give them any weight, by declaring them to be conscientiously my own ; but if you want authority to induce the conviction that the Union had injustice for its principle, and a ci'im-e for its basis, I appeal to that of his Majesty's present Attorney-General, Mr. Saurin, who, in his place in the Irish Parliament, pledged his character as a lawyer and a states- man, that the Union must be a violation of every moral principle, and that it was a mere question of prudence whether it should not be resisted by force. I also appeal to the opinions of the late Lord High Chancellor of Ireland, Mr. George Ponsonby of the present Solicitor- General, Mr. Bushe- and of that splendid lawyer, Mr. Plunket. The Union was, there- fore, a manifest injustice and it continues to be unjust at this day ; it was a crime, and NO. xv. must be still criminal, unless it shall be ludi- crously pretended that crime, like wine, im- proves by old age, and that time mollifies injustice into innocence. You may smile at the supposition, but in sober sadness you must be convinced that we daily suffer injustice; that every succeeding day adds only another sin to the catalogue of British vice ; and that if the Union continues, it will only make crime hereditary, and injustice perpetual. We have been robbed, my countrymen, most foully robbed of our birthright, of our independence. May it not be permitted to us, mournfully to ask how this consummation of evil was perfected ? for it was not in any disastrous battle that our liberties were struck down no foreign invader had despoiled the land ; we have not forfeited our country by any crimes neither did we lose it in any domestic insurrection. ~No, the rebellion was completely put down before the Union Avas accomplished : the Irish militia and the Irish yeomanry had put it down. How, then, have we become enslaved ? Alas ! Eng- land that ought to have been to us as a sister and a friend England, whom we had loved, and fought and bled for England, whom we have protected, and whom we do protect England, at a period when out of 100,000 of the seamen in her service, 70,000 were Irish England stole upon xis like a thief in the night, and robbed us of the precious gem of our Liberty ; she stole from us ' that which nought enriched her, but made us poor indeed.' Re- flect, then, my friends, on the means employed to accomplish this disastrous measure. I do not speak of the meaner instruments of bribery and corruption we all know that everything was put to sale nothing profane or sacred was omitted in the Union mart offices in the revenue, commands in the army and navy, the sacred ermine of justice, and the holy altars of God were all profaned and polluted as the rewards of Union services. By a vote in favour of the Union, ignorance, incapacity, and pro- fligacy obtained certain promotion : and our ill- fated but beloved country was degraded to her titmost limits before she was transfixed in slavery. But I do not intend to detain you in the contemplation of those vulgar means of parliamentary success they are within the daily routine of official management ; neither will I direct your attention to the frightful recollection of that avowed fact which is now part of history, that the rebellion itself was fomented and encouraged in order to facilitate the Union. Even the rebellion was an acci- dental and secondary cause the real cause of the Union lay deeper, but is quite obvious. It is to be found at once in the reliyious (lis$<.'ii- sions which the enemies of Ireland have created, and continued, and seek to perpetuate amongst ourselves, by telling us off, and separating us I Ill THE OHATOB. into wretched sections and miserable subdivi- sions ; they separated the Protestant from the Catholic, and the Presbyterian from both ; they revived every antiquated cause of domestic animosity, and they invented new pretexts of ranconr; but above all, my countrymen, they belied and calumniated us to each other they falsely declared that we hated each other, arid they continued to repeat the assertion, until we came to believe it ; they succeeded in pro- ducing all the madness of party and religious distinctions ; and whilst we were lost in the stupor of insanity, they plundered us of our country, and left us to recover at our leisure from the horrid delusion into which we have been so artfully conducted./ " Such, then, were the means by which the | Union was effectuated. It has stripped us of \ commerce and wealth ; it has degraded UP, and , deprived us not only of our station as a nation, ! but even of the name of our country ; we are ; -governed by foreigners foreigners make our j laws, for were the one hundred members who nominally represent Ireland in what is called ! -the Imperial Parliament, were they really our representatives, what influence could they, I although unbought and unanimous, have over the five hundred and fifty-eight English and Scotch members ? But what is the fact ? "Why, that out of the one hundred, siich as they are, that sit for this country, more than one-fifth know nothing of us, and are unknown to us. What, for example, do we know about Andrew Strahan, pi-inter to the king ? What can Henry Martin, barrister-at-law, care for the rights or liberties of Irishmen ? Some of us may, perhaps for our misfortunes, have been compelled to read a verbose pamphlet of James Stevens ; but who knows anything of one Crile, one Hughan, one Cackin, or of a dozen more | whose names I could mention, only because I ! have discovered them for the purpose of speak- ing to you about them ? What sympathy can ! we, in our sufferings, expect from those men ? What solicitude for our interests ? What are ; they to Ireland, or Ireland to them ? No, we | are not represented we have no effectual share in the legislation the thing is a mere mockery; j neither is the Imperial Parliament competent i to legislate for us it is too unwieldy a ma- chine to legislate with discernment for England ' alone ; but with respect to Ireland, it has all the additional inconvenience that arises from want of interest and total ignorance. Sir, when I talk of the utter ignorance, in Irish affairs, of the members of the Imperial Parliament, I do not exaggerate or mistake ; the ministers themselves are in absolute darkness witli respect to this country. I undertake to demonstrate it. Sir, they have presumed to speak of the growing prosperity of Ireland. I know them to be vile and profligate I cannot be suspected of flattering them yet vile as they are, I do not believe thej r could have had the audacity to insert in the speech, supposed to be spoken by his Majesty, that expression, had they known that, in fact, Ireland was in abject and increas- ing poverty. Sir, they were content to take their information from a pensioned Frenchman a being styled Sir Francis D'lvemois, who, in one of the pamphlets which it is his trade to write, has proved, by excellent samples of vulgar arithmetic, that our manufactures are flourishing, our commerce extending, and our felicity consummate. When you detect the ministers themselves in such gross ignorance, as, upon such authority, to place an insulting falsehood as it were in the mouth of our revered sovereign, what think you can be the fitness of nine minor imps of legislation to make laws for Ireland ? Indeed, the recent plans of taxation sufficiently evince how incom- petent the present scheme of Parliament is to legislate for Ireland. Had we an Irish Parlia- ment, it is impossible to conceive that they would have adopted taxes at once oppressive and unproductive ruinous to the country, and useless to the crown. No, sir, an Irish Par- liament, acquainted with the state of the country, and individually interested to tax proper objects, would have, even in this season of distress, no difficulty in raising the necessary supplies. The loyalty and good sense of the Irish nation would aid them ; and we should not, as now, perceive taxation unproductive of money, but abundantly fertile in discontent. There is another subject that peculiarly requires the attention of the legislature; but it is one which can be managed only by a resident and domestic Parliament it includes everything that relates to those strange and portentous disturbances which, from time to time, affright and desolate the fairest districts of the island. It is a delicate and difficult subject, and one that would require the most minute knowledge of the causes that produce those disturbances, and would demand all the attention and caro of men, whose individual safety was connected with the discovery of a proper remedy. I do not wish to calculate the extent of evil that may be dreaded from the outrages I allude to, if our country shall continue in the hands of foreign empirics and pretenders ; but it is clear to a demonstration, that no man can be at- tached to his king and country, who does not avow the necessity of submitting the control of this political evil, to the only competent tri- bunal an Irish Parliament. The ills of this awful moment are not confined to our domestic complaints and calamities. The great enemy* of the liberty of the world extends his influence and his power from the Frozen Ocean to the * Napoleon. THE ORATOR. 115 Straits of Gibraltar. He threatens us with invasion from the thousand ports of his vast empire ; how is it possibly to resist him with an impoverished, divided, and dispirited empire ? If, then, you are loyal to your excellent mo- narch if you are attached to the last relic of i political freedom, can you hesitate to join in j endeavouring to procure the remedy for all your calamities the sure protection against all the threats of your enemy tin' Repeal of the I'n ion ? Ye, restore to Irishmen their country, and you may well defy the invader's force ; ! give back Ireland to her hardy and brave popu- lation, and you have nothing to dread from foreign power. It is useless to detail the miseries that the Union has produced, or point out the necessity that exists for its Repeal. I have never met any man who did not deplore this fatal measure, which has despoiled his country ; nor do I believe that there is a single individual in the island who could be found : even to pretend approbation of that measure. I would be glad to see the face of the man, or j rather of the- beast, who could dare to say he thought the Union wise or good for the being who could say so must be devoid of all the feelings that distinguish humanity. With the knowledge that such were the sentiments of the universal Irish nation, how does it happen that the Union had lasted for ten years ? The solution of the question was easy. The Union continued only because we despaired of its Repeal. Upon this despair alone had it con- tinued yet what could be more absurd than such despair? If the Irish sentiment be but once known if the voice of six millions be raised from Cape Clear to the Giant's Cause- way if the men most remarkable for their loyalty to their king, and attachment to con- stitutional liberty, will come forward as the leaders of the public voice, the nation would, in an hour, grow too great for the chains that now shackle you, and the Union must be re- pealed without commotion and without diffi- culty. Let the most timid amongst us compare the present probability of repealing the Union with the prospect that in the year 1705 existed of that measure being ever brought about. Who, in 1705, thought an Union possible ? Pitt dared to attempt it, and he succeeded ; it only requires the resolution to attempt its Repeal in fact, it requires only to entertain the hope of repealing it, to make it impossible that the Union should continue ; but that pleasing hope could never exi.st, whilst the infernal dissensions on the score of religion were kept up. The Protestant alone could not expect to liberate his country the Roman Catholic alone could not do it neither could the Presbyterian ; but amalgamate the three into the Irishman, and the Union is repealed. Learn discretion from your enemies they have crushed your country by fomenting religious discord serve her by abandoning it for ever. Let each man give up his share of the mischief let each man forsake every feeling of rancour. But I say not this to barter with you, my countrymen I reqxiire no equivalent from you whatever course you shall take, my mind is fixed I trample under foot the Catnolic claims, if they can interfere with the Repeal ; I abandon all wish for eman- cipation, if it delays that Repeal. Nay, were Mr. Perceval, to-morrow, to offer me the Repeal of the Union, upon the terms of re-enacting the entire penal code, I declare it from my heart, and in the presence of my God, that I would most cheerfully embrace his offer. Let us then, my beloved countrymen, sacrifice our wicked and groundless animosities on the altar of our country let. that spirit which heretofore emanating from Dungannon spread all over the island, and gave light and liberty to the land, be again cherished amongst us let ua rally round the standard of Old Ireland, and we shall easily procure that greatest of political bless- ings, an Irish King, an Irish House of Lords, and an Irish House of Commons." < JOHN MILTON. JBornlGQS. Died 1675. [THE next selection, though not strictly a specimen of oratory, yet as representing that high oratorical stylo of prose of which Milton was so great a master, may well claim a place in this volume.] EULOGY ox CROMWELL. IN speaking of such a man, who has merited so well of his country, I should do nothing, if I only exculpated him from crimes ; parti- cularly since it not only so nearly concerns the coimtry, but even myself, who am so closely implicated in the same disgrace, to evince to all nations, and as far as I can, to all ages, the excellence of his character, and the splendour of his renown. Oliver Cromwell was sprung from a line of illustrious ancestors, who were distinguished for the civil functions which they sustained under the monarch}', and still more for the part which they took in restoring and establishing true religion in this country. In the vigour and maturity of his life, which ha>' passed in retirement, he was conspicuous for ' nothing more than for the strictness of his religious habits and the innocence of his life ; and he had tacitly cherished in his breast that flame of piety which was afterwards to stand him in so much stead on the greatest occasions, and in the most critical exigencies. In the last parliament which was called by the King, he was elected to represent his native town ; when he soon became distinguished by the justness of his opinions, and the vigour and i 116 THE ORATOR, decision of his counsels. When the sword was j drawn, he offered his services, and was ap- j pointed to a troop of horse, whose numbers ' were soon increased by the pious and the good, who flocked from all quarters to his standard ; and in a short time he almost surpassed the ' greatest generals in the magnitude and the rapidity of his achievements. Nor is this sur- prising ; for he was a soldier disciplined to ' perfection in the knowledge of himself. He ! had either extinguished, or by habit had ; learned to subdue, the whole host of vain hopes, j fears, and passions, which infest the soul. He i first acquired the government of himself, and over himself acquired the most signal victories ; so that on the first day he took the field against the external enemy, he was a veteran in arms, consummately practised in the toils and exigen- cies of war. It is not possible for me, in the narrow limits in which 1 circumscribe myself on this occasion, to enumerate the many towns which he has taken, the many battles which hjs has won. The whole surface of the British empire has been the scene of his exploits and the theatre of his triumphs ; which alone would furnish ample materials for a history, and want a copiousness of narration not inferior to the magnitude and diversity of the transactions. This alone seems to be a sufficient proof of his extraordinary and almost supernatural virtue, that by the vigour of his genius, or the excel- lence of his discipline, adapted not more to the necessities of war than to the precepts of Christianity, the good and the brave were from all quarters attracted to his camp, not only as to the best school of military talents, but of piety and virtue ; and that during the whole wary and the occasional intervals of peace, amid so many vicissitudes of faction and of events, he retained and still retains the obe- dience of his troops, not by largesses or indul- gence, but by his sole authority, and the regu- larity of his pay. In this instance his fame may rival that of Cyrus, of Epaminondas, or any of the great generals of antiquity. Hence he collected an army as numerous and as well equipped as any one ever did in so short a j time; which was uniformly obedient to his orders, and dear to the affections of the citizens; which was formidable to the enemy in the field, but never cruel to those who laid down their arms ; which committed no lawless ra- vages on the persons or the property of the inhabitants; who, when they compared their conduct with the turbulence, the intemperance, the impiety, and the debauchery of the royalists, were wont to salute them as friends, and to consider them as guests. They were a stay to the good, a terror to the evil, and the wannest advocates for every exertion of piety and virtue. Nor would it be right to pass over the name of Fairfax, who united the utmost fortitude with the utmost courage ; and the spotless innocence of whose life seemed to point him out as the peculiar favourite of Heaven. Justly indeed may you be excited to receive this wreath of praise ; though you have retired as much as possible from the world, and seek those shades of privacy which were the delight of Scipio. Nor was it only the enemy whom you subdued: but you have triumphed over that flame of ambition and that lust of glory which are wont to make the best and the greatest of men their slaves. The purity of your virtues and the splendour of your actions consecrate those sweets of ease which you enjoy, and which constitute the wished-for haven of the toils of man. Such was the ease which, when the heroes of antiquity possessed, after a life of exertion and glory, not greater than yours, the poets, in despair of finding ideas or expressions better suited to the subject, feigned that they were received into Heaven, and invited to recline at the tables of the gods. But whether it were your health, which I prin- cipally believe, or any other motive, which caused you to retire, of this I am convinced, that nothing could have induced you to relin- quish the service of your country, if you had not known that in your successor liberty would meet with a protector, and England with a stay to its safety, and a pillar to its glory. For while you, O Cromwell, are left among us, he hardly shows a proper confidence in the Siipreme who distrusts the security of England; when he sees that you are in so special a man- ner the favoured object of the divine regard. But there was another department of the war which was destined for your exclusive exer- tions. Without entering into any length of detail, I will, if possible, describe some of the most memorable actions, with as much brevity as you performed them with celerity. After the loss of all Ireland, with the exception of one city, you in one battle immediately discomfited the forces of the rebels ; and were busily em- ployed in settling the country, when you were suddenly recalled to the war in Scotland. Hence you proceeded with unwearied diligence against the Scots, who were on the point of making an irruption into England with the King in their train : and in about the space of one year, you entirely subdued, and added to the English dominion, that kingdom which all our monarchs, during a period of 800 years, had in vain struggled to subject. In one battle you almost annihilated the remainder of their forces, who, in a fit of desperation, had made a sudden incursion into England, then almost destitute of garrisons, and got as far as Wor- cester; where you came up with them by forced marches, and captured almost the whole of their nobility, A profound peace err-ued; THE ORATOR. 117 when we ftrand, though indeed not then for the first time, that you were as wise in the cabinet as valiant in the field. It was your constant endeavour in the senate either to induce them to adhere to those treaties which they had entered into with the enemy, or speedily to adjust others which promised to be beneficial to the countiy. But when you saw that the business was artfully procrastinated, that every one was more intent on his own selfish interest than on the public good, that the people complained of the disappointments which they had experienced, and the fallacious promises by which they had been gulled, that they were the dupes of a few overbearing indi- viduals, you put an end to their domination. A new parliament is summoned : and the right of election given to those to whom it was expe- dient. They meet, but do nothing ; and, after having wearied themselves by their mutual dissensions, and fully exposed their incapacity to the observation of the countiy, they consent to a voluntary dissolution. In this state of desolation to which we were reduced, you, Cromwell ! alone remained to conduct the government, and to save the country. We all willingly yield the palm of sovereignty to your unrivalled ability and virtue, except the few among us, who, either ambitious of honours which they have not the capacity to sustain, or who envy those which are conferred on one more worthy than themselves, or else who do not know that nothing in the world is more pleasing to God, more agreeable to reason, more politically just, or more generally useful, than that the supreme power should lie vested in the best and the wisest of men. Such, O Cromwell ! all acknowledge you to be ; such are the services which you have rendered, as the leader of our councils, the general of our armies, and the father of your country. For this is the tender appellation by which all the good among us salute you from the veiy soul. Other names you neither have nor could en- dure ; and you deservedly reject that pomp of title which attracts the gaze and admiration of the multitude. For what is a title but a cer- tain definite mode of dignity ? But actions such as yours surpass, not only the bounds of our admiration, but our titles ; and like the points of pyramids, which are lost in the clouds, they soar above the possibilities of titular commendation. But since, though it l.x) not fit, it may be expedient, that the high- est pitch of virtue should be circumscribed within the bounds of some human appellation, you endured to receive, for the public good, a title most like to that of the father of your country ; not to exalt, but rather to bring you nearer to the level of ordinary men ; the title of king was unworthy the transcendent majesty of your character. For if you had been capti- vated by a name over which, as a private man, you had so completely triumphed and crumbled into dust, you would have been doing the same thing as if, after having subdued some idola- trous nation by the help of the true God, you should afterwards fall down and worship the gods which you had vanquished. JDo you, then, sir, continue your course with- the same unrivalled magnanimity. It sits well upon you. To you our country owes its liberties, nor can you sustain a character at once moremoment- ous and more august than that of the author, the guardian, and the preserver of our liberties; and hence yon have not only eclipsed the achievements of all our kings, but even those which have been fabled of our heroes. Often reflect what a dear pledge the beloved land of your nativity has entrusted to your care ; and that liberty which she once expected only from the chosen flower of her talents and her virtues, she now expects from you only, and by you only hopes to obtain. Revere the fond expec- tations which we cherish, the solicitudes of your anxious countiy. Revere the looks and the wounds of your brave companions in arms, who, under your banners, have so strenuously fought for liberty ; revere the shades of those who perished in the contest. Bevere also the opinions and the hopes which foreign States entertain concerning us, who promise to them- selves so many advantages from that liberty, which we have so bravely acquired, from the establishment of that new government, which has begun to shed its splendour on the world, which, if it be suffered to vanish like a dream, would involve us in the deepest abyss of shame. And, lastly, revere yourself; and, after having endured so many sufferings and encountered so many perils for the sake of liberty, do not suffer it, now it is obtained, either to be violated by yourself, or in any one instance impaired by others. You cannot be truly free unless we are free too ; for such is the nature of things, that he who intrenches on the liberty of others is the first to lose his own and become a slave. But if you, who have hitherto been the patron and tutelary genius of liberty, if you, who are exceeded by no one in justice, in piety, and goodness, should hereafter invade that liberty which you have defended, your conduct must be fatally operative, not only against the cause of liberty, but the general interests of piety and virtue/ Your integrity and virtue will appear to .^rave evaporated, your faith in religion to have been small ; your character with posterity will dwindle into insignificance, by which a most destructive blow will be levelled against the happiness of mankind. The work which you have undertaken is of incalculable moment, which will thoroughly sift and expose every principle and sensation of your heart, which will fully display the vigour and genius of your 118 THE ORATOR. character, which will evince whether you really possess those great qualities of piety, fidelity, justice, ami ^lf-denial, which made us believe that you were elevated by the special direction of the Deity to the highest pinnacle of power. At once wisely and discreetly to hold the sceptre over three powerful nations, to persuade people to relinquish inveterate and corrupt for new and more beneficial maxims and institu- tions, to penetrate into the remotest parts of the country, to have the mind present art] operative in every quarter, to watch against : surprise, to provide against danger, to reject the blandishments of pleasure and the pomp of power; these are exertions compared with | which the labour of war is mere pastime ; , which will require every energy and employ ; every faculty that you possess ; which demand a man supported from above, and almost in- structed by immediate inspiration. These and more than these are, no doubt, the objects which occupy your attention and engross your sojil ; as well as the means by which yon may accomplish these important ends, and render our liberty at once more ample and more secure. And this you can, in my opinion, in no other way so readily effect, as by associating in your councils the companions of your clan- gers and your toils ; men of exemplary modesty, integrity, and courage ; whose hearts have not been hardened in cruelty and rendered insen- sible to pity by the sight of so much ravage and so much death, but whom it has rather inspired with the love of justice, with a respect for religion, and with the feeling of compassion, and who are more zealously interested in the preservation of liberty, in proportion as they j have encountered more perils in its defence. They are not strangers or foreigners, a hireling rout scraped together from the dregs of the people, but for the most part, men of the better conditions in life, of families not disgraced if not ennobled, of fortunes either ample or moderate ; and what if some among them are recommended by their poverty ? for it was not the lust of ravage which brought them into the field ; it was the calamitous aspect of the times, which in the most critical circumstances, and often amid the most disastrous turns of fortune, roused them to attempt the deliverance of their country from the fangs of despotism. They were men prepared, not only to debate, but to fight ; not only to argue in the senate, but to engage the enemy in the field. But, unless we will continually cherish indefinite and illusory expectations, I see not in whom we can place any confidence, if not in these men and such as these. We have the surest and most indu- bitable pledge of their fidelity in this, that they have already exposed themselves to death in the service of their country ; of their piety in this, that they have been always wont to ascribe the whole glory of their successes to the favour of the Deitj^, whose help they have so suppliantly implored, and so conspicuously obtained; of their justice in this, that they even brought the King to trial, and when his guilt was proved, refused to save his life ; of their moderation in our own uniform experience of its effects, and because, if by any outrage they should disturb the peace which they have procured, they themselves will be the first to feel the miseries which it will occasion, the first to meet the havoc of the sword, and the first again to risk their lives for all those com- forts and distinctions which they have so happily acquired; and lastly, of their fortitude in this, that there is no instance of any people who ever recovered their liberty with so much courage and success ; and therefore let us not suppose that there can be any persons who will be more zealous in preserving it. THOMAS JEFFERSON. Born 1743. Died 1826. i r,\sldii\t. of tie United Stattt, 1801-9.) EXTRACT FROM IXAUGI-ISAL ADDRESS. DURIXG the contest of opinion through which we have passed, the animation of discussions and of exertions has sometimes worn an aspect which might impose on strangers, unused to think freely, and to speak and to write what they think ; but this being now de- cided by the voice of the nation, announced according to the rules of the constitution, all will, of course, arrange themselves under the will of the law, and unite in common efforts for the common good. All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that, though the will of the majority is, in all cases, to prevail, that will, to be rightful, must be reasonable ; that the minority possess their equal rights, which equal laws must protect, and to violate which would be oppression. Let us then, fellow citizens, unite with one heai*t and one mind. Let us restore to social intercourse that har- mony and affection, without which liberty, and even life itself, are but dreary things ; and let us reflect that, having banished from our land that religious intolerance under which mankind so long bled and suffered, we have yet gained little, if we countenance a political intolerance, as despotic, as wicked, and capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions. During the throes and convulsions of the an- cient world, during the agonizing spasms of infu- riated man, seeking, through blood and slaughter, his long-lost liberty, it was not wonderful that the agitation of the billows should reach even this distantandpeaceful shore, that this shouldbe more felt and feared by some, and less by others, atnl should divide opinions as to measures of safety. THE ORATOR. 119 But every difference of opinion is not a dif- ference of principle. "We have called by dif- ferent names brethren of the same principle. We are all republicans; we are all federalists. If there be any among ITS who would wish to dissolve this union, or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed, as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated, where reason is left free to combat it. I know, indeed, that some honest men fear that a republican government cannot be strong; that this government is not strong enough. But would the honest patriot, in the full tide of successful experiment, abandon a government which has so far kept us free and firm, on the theoretic and visionary fear that this govern- ment, the world's best hope, may by possibility want energy to preserve itself? I trust not; I believe this, on the contrary, the strongest government on earth. I believe it the only one whore every man, at the call of the law, would fly to the standard of the law, and would meet invasions of the public order as his own personal concern. Sometimes it is said that man cannot be trusted with the government of himself. Can he, then, be trusted with the government of others ? or have we found angels, in the form of kings, to govern him ? Let history answer this question. Let us, then, with courage and confidence, pursue our own federal and republican prin- ciples; our attachment to union and represen- tative government. Kindly separated, by nature and a wide ocean, from the exterminating havoc of one quarter of the globe ; too high minded to endure the degradations of the others ; pos- sessing a chosen country, with room enough for our descendants to the thousandth and thou- sandth generation ; entertaining a due sense of our equal right to the use of our own faculties, to the acquisitions of our own industry, to honour and confidence from our fellow citizens. Resulting not from birth, but from our actions, and their sense of them ; enlightened by a benign religion, professed, indeed, and practised in various forms, yet all of them inculcating honesty, truth, temperance, gratitude, and the love of man; acknowledging and adoring an overruling Providence, which, by all its dispen- sations, proves that it delights in the happiness of man here and his greater happiness hereafter ; with all these blessings, what more is necessary to make us a happy and prosperous people ? Still one thing more, fellow citizens ; a wise and frugal government, which shall restrain men from injiTring one another ; shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement ; and shall not take from the mouth of labour the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government ; and this is necessary to close the circle of our felicities. GARIBALDI. Born 1807. Living. [TiiE following extract is from a letter addressed to tiio editor of La Nation Suisse, by the Liberator of Italy. It breathes forth a fine spirit of patriotism, and is worthy of preservation even in its translated form.] /THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM IN 1861. I DESIRE to add my name to the four thousand citizens of Geneva who have addressed the United States in favour of the maintenance of the constitution and the abo- lition of slavery, [Sid I hope in so doing to ob- tain the approbation of the Liberal press, and of all my fellow-citizens.1 Glory to Switzer- land ! That old home of liberty deserves to stand in the vanguard of human emancipation. From a fatality now weighing on nations, we see great peoples grow less, and even disappear, before the lying flattery of despotism, and the champions of freedom become the police of tyranny. Well, let Switzerland take the lead till nations repent. Tyrants pass away : na- tions are immortal. [What avails a minority ? We shall conquer by aid of our old traditions-; aiidjwe shall again see tyranny melt before the popular phalanx as snow before the sun. We shall conquer because we have f right, justice, and brotherhood on our side/ Let me now call the attention of Switzerland to a great fact. The American republics present to the world the spectacle of the connection of the peoples. An aggression against the Peruvian territory, completed by the Spanish Bourbons, has raised a cry of shame and vengeance from all her sister nations. If the elder sister of republics will send one word of comfort to her suffering sister, it would be a striking contrast to the shameful leaguer of tyrants against liberty, which we now see in Europe. Mind this Poland swamped by Russia, amid the apathy of all, is the first step to a return to the barbarism of the middle ages. If the " Partition " disgraced the Eighteenth, the destruction of Poland is a lasting blot on the Nineteenth centuiy. Alas ! our civilization as yet is but false. SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. . Bom 1772. Dud 1834. THE PROMULGATION OF TRUTH. I HAVE explained the good, that is, the natural, consequences of the promulgation of all truths which all are bound to know and to make known. The evils occasioned by it, with few and rare exceptions, have their origin in the attempts to suppress or pervert it ; in the fury and violence of imposture attacked or undermined in her strongholds, or in the extravagances of ignorance and credulity, 120 THE ORATOR. roused from their lethargy, and angry at the medicinal disturbance awakening, not yet broad awake, and thus blending the monsters of uneasy dreams with the real objects on which the drowsy eye had alternately half opened and closed, again half opened and again half closed. This re-action of deceit and superstition, with all the trouble and tumult incident, I would compare to a fire which bursts forth from some stifled and fermenting mass on the first admis- sion of light and air. It roars and blows and converts the already spoilt or damaged stuff, with all the straw and straw-like matter near it, first into flame and the next moment into ashes. The fire dies away, the ashes are scattered on all the winds, and what began in worthlessness ends in nothingness. Such are the evils, that is, the casual consequences of the same promulgation. It argues a narrow or corrupt nature to lose the general and lasting consequences of rare and virtuous energy, in the brief accidents which accompanied its first movements to sit lightly by the emancipation of the human reason from a legion of devils, in our com- plaints and lamentations over the loss of a herd of swine ! The Cranmers, Hampdens, and Sidneys ; the counsellors of our Elizabeth, and the friends of our other great deliverer, the third William, is it in vain that these have been our countrymen ? Are we not the heirs of their good deeds? And what are noble deeds but noble truths realized? As Pro- testants, as Englishmen, as the inheritors of so ample an estate of might and right, an estate so strongly fenced, so richly planted, by the sinewy arms and dauntless hearts of our fore- fathers, we of all others have good cause to trust in the truth, yea to follow its pillars of fire through the darkness and the desert, even though its light should but suffice to make us certain of its own presence. If there be else- where men jealous of the light, who prophesy an excess of evil over good from its manifesta- tion, we are entitled to ask them, on what experience they ground their bodings ? Our own country bears no traces, our own history contains no records, to justify them. From the great eras of national illumination we date the commencement of our main national ad- vantages. The tangle of delusions, which stifled and distorted the growing tree, have been torn away ; the parasite weeds, that fed on its veiy roots, have been plucked up with a salutary violence. To us there remain only quiet duties, the constant care, the gradual improvement, the cautious unhazardous labours of the industrious, though contented gaixlener, to prune, to engraft, and one by one to remove from its leaves and fresh roots, the slug and the caterpillar. But far be it from us to undervalue with light and senseless detraction, the conscientious hardihood of our predecessors, or even to condemn in them that vehemence, to which the blessings it Avon for us leave now neither temptation or pretext. That the very terms, with which the bigot or the hireling would blacken the first publishers of political and religious truth, are, and deserve to be, hateful to us, we owe to the effects of its pub- lication. We ante-date the feelings in order to criminate the authors of our tranquillity, opulence, and security. But let us be aware. Effects will not, indeed, immediately disappear with their causes ; but neither can they long continue without them. If by the reception of truth in the spirit of truth, we Lccatne what we are ; only by the retention of it in the same spirit, can we remain what we are. The nar- row seas that form our boundaries, what were they in times of old ? The convenient highway for Danish and Norman pirates. What are they now ? Still but " a span of waters." Yet they roll at the base of the misled Ararat, on which the ark of the Hope of Europe and of civilization rested ! F. W. ROBERTSON. Lorn 1816. Died 1853. I THE short extract which follows is from an Address by the late Rev. F. \V. Robertson to the members of the Working Men's Institute at Brighton, of which ho was, during its early years, the chief ornament and pillar. For large and liberal views on questions affecting the true position of the working classes, the lectures and addresses of this author are amongst the most valuable contributions to modern literature.] TKIE DEMOCKACY DEFINED. DEMOG'RACY, if it means anything, means government by the people. It has for its very watchword. Equality of all men. Xow let us not endeavour to make it ridiculous. I suppose that a sensible democrat does not mean that all individual men are equal in intelligence and worth. He does not mean that the Bushman or the Australian is equal to the Englishman. But he means this that the original stuff of which all men are made, is equal ; that there is no reason why the Hottentot and the Australian may not be cultivated, so that in the lapse of centuries they may be equal to Englishmen. I suppose the democrat would say, there is no reason why the son of a cobbler should not by education become fit to be the prime minister of the land, or take his place on the bench of judges. And I suppose that all freeinstitutions mean this. L suppose they are meant to assert Let the people be educated; let there be a fair field and no favour; let every man have a fair chance, and then the happiest condition of a nation would be, that when every man had been educated morally and intellectually to his very highest capacity, there should then be selected out of men so trained a Government of the Wisest and the Best. THE ORATOR. GEORGE CANNING. Born 1770. Died 1827. [THE speech which is given below was delivered by Canning, then Secretary for Foreign Affairs, on the 12th of December, 182o, in the House of Commons, and its effect both within and without the House is described by contemporaries as most marvellous. In February of the following year, Canning succeeded Lord Liverpool as Prime Minister, but was not long spared to enjoy either his honours or his life, as he died, worn out both in body and mind, on the Sth of August of the same year.] ON MOVING THE CONSIDERATION 01- THE KING'S MESSAGE ON THE RELATIONS SUBSISTING BETWEEN GREAT BRITAIN AND PORTUGAL. MR. SPEAKER, In proposing to the House of Commons to acknowledge, by an humble and dutiful Address, his Majesty's most gracious message 011 the subject of the relations sub- sisting between Great Britain and Portugal, and the present condition of the latter state ; and, in calling 011 this House to reply to that com- munication, in terms which will be, in fact, an echo to the sentiments contained in the royal message, and equally in accordance with the anticipations of his Majesty's government in doing this, Sir, I cannot but feel that, however confident I may be in the justice of the cause, und clear as to the policy which it becomes us, in accordance with the recommendations con- tained in his Majesty's message, to adopt ; yet, Sir, I am free to admit, it well becomes a British minister, in recommending a British House of Commons to take any step calculated to bring upon their country the hazards of war, to make use of the language of regret and sor- row that such a necessity should exist. I assure the House there is not, ( within its walls, at this moment, any set of men more fully convinced than are his Majesty's ministers nor any individual more intimately persuaded than he who has now the honour to address you of the vital importance of the continuance of peace to this country and to the world. fSo strongly am I impressed with this opinion, and for reasons of which I will take the liberty before I sit down to adduce to the House, that I am perfectly ready to declare that no question, involving a doubtful success or construction ' no consideration of merely present advantage and, Sir, I will go farther, and add, no antici- pation of remote and contingent difficulty could arise, which I should not a thousand times rather completely pass over, or, at least, adjourn, than concur in a measure calling on the govern- ment of this country to involve itself in the consequences of a war. But, Sir, there are cases which render the adoption of such a course not merely honourable and beneficial, but also necessary and inevitable, andfl am equally cer- tain the present occasion presents such a case ; and I feel that what has been acted on in the best times of our history what has been pro- xo. XM. mulgated by our best statesmen and what has always received the support and concurrence of successive English parliaments, is an adherence to national faith, and respect for the national honour. These are the;, two questions which cannot be compromised under any circumstances whatsoever the cause of national faith, and the cause of national honour. Sir, if I did not con- sider the present question as completely falling within both these cases if I was not intimately satisfied that the national faith and the national honour were alike interested on this occasion I should not dare to address the House of Commons, as I now do, in the full and unlimited confidence (almost amounting to conviction) that the most gracious communication made to par- liament by his Majesty, will meet with that ; reply from parliament which his Majesty expects. Viewing the matter as I do, I shall beg leave to proceed, first, to a simple statement and review of facts, in order the better to bring the case under the cognizance of parliament, in the shortest and clearest form I can devise, and of which the subject itself is susceptible. Before entering into the consideration of any collateral circumstances connected with the subject, I shall state shortly the situation of the case, which, as it appears to me, resolves itself into a case of national law, and a question of fact. With regard to the fact, on the one hand, ; that is now to be brought under the considera- tion of parliament, as it has previously been 1 submitted to the attention of his Majesty's government, Sir, in my mind, it is impossible I to consider that fact in any other light than I that in which it presented itself to the minds of i his Majesty's ministers; and 1 think it equally impossible for parliament and government (taking such a view of the case) to come to any other decision than that contemplated in his Majesty's message. Among the relations of alliance and amity by which, at different periods of her history, this country has connected herself with the other nations of Europe, there exist no treaties so old in their date none so constant in their duration and, I may add, none so precise in the obligations it imposes upon both countries, and so intimately interwoven with the line of policy adopted by Great Britain in its foreign relations, as are the treaties of amity and alliance formed between this country and the kingdom of Portugal. Sir, I may be excused for calling the attention of the House to the fact, that our most remote history contains (I may add, the most brilliant periods of our history are those which contain) notices of the treaties of alliance, amity, and guarantee, sub- sisting between the King of Great Britain and his Portuguese Majesty. The good understanding thus created between the two countries began early, and has continued long. It has survived a variety of conflicting interests and ciiviun- 122 THE OKATOR. stances, which, in the course of events, from time to time, have naturally and unavoidably arisen. It is much older than the epoch to which I am about to advert, when the good understanding previously subsisting between the two states acquired fresh vigour on the occasion of the present family of Portugal ascending the throne of that kingdom. Anterior to the ac- cession of the house of Braganza to the throne, friendly relations subsisted between Portugal and this country relations which were con- tinued without interruption, and renewed with sincerity, on, I will say, both parts. It has been adhered to in periods when the faith of other alliances has been shaken ; it has been vindicated in those fields of blood and glory which remain among the most brilliant pages of the history of England. Sir, in that alliance we have always been scrupulously faithful. Sometimes, I admit, we have found the treaty burthensome to maintain of that there can be no question ; and many are those who may have wished us to shake it off', and free our- '.selves from the incumbrance of observing it ; .but- a feeling of national honour, and what I may, be allowed to denominate a sentiment of national sympathy, joined to a common interest, and a cause identified with that country, has induced England to persevere, unterrified by the difficulties attendant upon a continuance of the .relations subsisting between us and Portugal. I feel the considerations to which I have more particularly adverted present too narrow and limited a view of the case. It is not only among ages long gone by, and in treaties now superseded by time and the course of events, that traces are discoverable of the relation in which Portugal has been considered to stand in regard to Great Britain ; for in the latest compact entered into between the nations of modern Europe, that which now forms the patent law of the civilized world, I allude, Sir, to the convention of Vienna, a similar course was taken in the treaty then entered into between this country and Portugal. At that period, Sir, Great Britain was well aware of the incon- veniences which many individuals were fond of representing as arising out of our connection with Portugal ; but we were also aware of the credit, and, I will add, advantage derivable From that connection ; and we renewed our obligations to uphold and support Portugal, on future oc- casions, in terms so strong and imperative, as to lay a foundation perfectly adequate to support the present proceeding. The terms of that treaty I will take leave to read to the House previous to calling on it to concur in the vote, with the proposal of which it is my intention to conclude. The third article of the treaty between GreatBritain andPortugal, concluded at Vienna on the 22nd of February, 1815, stated, that " the treaty of alliance entered into between his Bri- tannic Majesty and the King of Portugal at Eio de Janeiro, was founded on circumstances of a temporary nature, which had now happily ceased to exist ; and, on that ground, the pro- visions of the treaty should be considered null and void as relating to all the parties interested ; however, without prejudice to the ancient and established treaties of alliance, friendship, and guarantee, which had so long and happily sub- sisted between the two countries : these treaties being now renewed by the high contracting parties, and acknowledged to remain in full force and effect." In order that the House may fully under- stand, and accurately appreciate, the effect of the observations which the perusal of this treaty is calculated to excite, I may be permitted to explain the previous circumstances of Portugal, and the condition of the reigning family in that country. In the year 1807, when, by the de- claration of Buonaparte, the house of Braganza ceased to reign, the King of Portugal, under the advice of his Britannic Majesty's government, set sail for the Brazils, and established in that countiy the seat of his monarchy. This step was taken by virtue of a secret convention con- cluded between this country and Portugal, to the effect, that so long as the House of Bra- ganza remained in that part of their dominions, or in the event of their return, his Britannic Majesty would never acknowledge any other dynasty on the throne of Portugal than the family of Braganza. I may be allowed to re- mark, that this convention greatly contributed to the furtherance of a proceeding which placed that family beyond the power of Buonaparte, and consequently promoted the ascendancy of British interests in the Peninsula. It was this secret convention that brought aboxit the emi- gration, and greatly contributed to decide that step by which the royal family of Portugal was removed from the power of France. The King of Portugal having become esta- blished upon his throne, the article ceased to be secret, and became part of the law of nations by the treaty of 1810, and from that time up to the treaty of Vienna, it was clearly understood throughout Europe, that we had determined not to acknowledge any sovereign in Portugal, except a member of the house of Braganza, But that determination arose .solely from the supposition that that sovereign would be com- pelled to a forced residence in Brazil. Beyond this it was not binding upon us, as it was felt that the moment the ground of the obligation ceased, there was an end to the treaty. It happened, in consequence of the happy con- clusion of the war, that the option of returning was offered to his Majesty, and as it was felt that the force of such a previous obligation no longer existed, the forcible separation from Por- tugal not continuing, it was deemed reasonable THE ORATOR. 123 that we should perform such other obligation as the force of existing treaties rendered imperative upon us. The King of Portugal came into pos- session of his European dominions, the ground of our former obligation ceased, and the treaty was so far ended. But when that treaty was so far ended, there came another obligation, which I have just now read to the House. That treaty, I may be allowed to say, was repealed without prejudice to other ancient treaties of friendship and alliance ; treaties so long and so happily subsisting between the two crowns of Portugal and Great Britain, which were, to a certain extent, renewed by the two high, con- tracting parties, and which are, to this day, of full force and effect. I should also state, that if all the treaties to which this paragraph re- ferred, were, by some convulsion of nature, or some other accident, consigned to total oblivion, I consider Great Britain to be morally bound to fulfil her obligations, and that, in case of necessity, she would be bound, and is bound, to act in the defence of Portugal. But, happily, that is not the case ; all the preceding treaties are in existence they are in the full know- ledge of all the civilized nations of the world they are of easy reference to all mankind they are known to Spain to all the continental states of Europe they are so numerous, and the result of the whole is so clear, that I shall merely select one or two of them, with a view to show the nature of our obligations to our ancient friend and ally Portugal. The first to which I shall advert is that concluded in 1661, at the time of the marriage of Charles II. with the Infanta of Portugal. The obligations of that treaty, after reciting the delivering of Bombay, Tangier, and other places, some of which still remained, and some not, to the government to which they were deh'vered, it was stated, that, in consideration of those grants, which were of so much benefit to the King of Great Britain, he professed, and declared himself, by and with, the consent of his privy council, that he would take upon him the defence of Portugal ; that he would aid and defend her by sea and by land, with all his power, and in all other manner and respect, even as he would defend England itself. By that treaty it was further conditioned, that, in case of necessity, or any foreign attack, he should send and transport, at his own proper cost and expense, two regiments of horse, of 500 men, and two regiments of foot, of 1,000 men each. There were other various stipula- tions, amounting to the same effect, which render it unnecessary for me to go farther into it at present. The next treaty, to which I beg the atten- tion of the House, is that of 1703 : it was a tripartite treaty, made between the States- general of Holland, Great Britain, and Por- tugal, and was contemporaneous with the famous commercial treaty of Methuen, whoso provisions still continue to be in full force and effect. By the second article of the treaty of 1703, it was conditioned, that if at any time, and whenever it happened, the Kings of Spain or Trance, or both, or either of them, should make war on Portugal, or give reason to suspect they had jointly or separately any intention to make war on her or her colonial possessions beyond the seas, her Majesty shall use her good offices to persuade those powers not to make war ; but in case those offices should not succeed, the third article provides, that should such interference not be successful, and should war be actually made on Portugal, then the above-named contracting powers declare, that they shall make war on the Kings of Spain or France, or both or either of them ; and that, while hostile arms shall be borne against Por- tugal, they shall provide 12,000 men, armed and equipped, and leave them there while .their presence may be deemed necessary. From these articles, the House will perceive the nature, if not the extent, of our ancient obligations to our ally. I am ready to admit, Sir, that either of these treaties might, by time and circumstances, be supposed to have relaxed in their force ; or it might be asked, why one party having withdrawn itself from the respon- sibility, say Holland, for instance, the other should still be considered as bound to adhere to it ? It may be said, the language of these treaties is so loose and prodigal, that they could only have originated in good feeling, and that it was out of nature to suppose any one nation would engage to defend another as she would herself. It may be said, there is some- thing so exaggerated in these treaties, that they were never intended to be carried into effect. But with regard to this veiy treaty of 1703, even if I stood upon it alone ; even though the circumstances of Holland had changed ; even if her sentiments had changed ; if her obligations were either altered or had become obsolete ; I need not raise the question whether, the government and sentiments of England not changing, she is now liable or not to perform her obligation ? This is not the time to do so, even if I admitted that such a question could have been raised. The objec- tions, if any, should have been taken at the . Congress of Vienna, when the eyes of the whole world were open to our relative situation with Portugal ; when we proclaimed the exist- ence of our ancient treaties of friendship and alliance, so long subsisting with her ; and when they were acknowledged to be of full force and effect. That was the time to object, if objec- tion was thought necessary ; and it is not eo much on the specific articles of the treaties of 1661 and 1703 that we have acted and continue 124 THE OEATOE. to act, as on the general spirit of all tlie trea- I ties, admitted and recognized at the Congress of Vienna. I say Portugal has a right to j claim the assistance of Great Britain, as an all}', and call upon her to defend the integrity of her territory. This is the state of the case as to our moral and political obligations to- wards Portugal ; and I am not ashamed to say I have a right to say that when Portugal, in the apprehension of a coming storm, applied for our assistance, while we had no hesitation in acknowledging our obligation to afford it, if the cos us fcederis had once arisen, yet I say that we were bound to wait till we ascertained the fact upon sufficient authority. Whether delay or difficulty interposed, it was not as to the existence of an admitted obligation, but as to the knowledge of the fact having actually taken place, which justified the call for our assistance. In this stage of our proceedings, I beg to answer incidentally a charge of delay which has been made against his Majesty's govern- ; ment on this very important subject. But, in ; few words, I can state to the House, there is ' .. not the shadow of foundation for any such j charge. It was only on Sunday, the 3rd of December, that I received from the Portuguese ; ambassador the direct and formal demand of j assistance from this country. True, long before ! that time rumours were afloat of an unautho- j rized description rumours finding their way ! from Madrid, where everything was distorted, ! thi'ough the channels of the French press, j where everything was again disfigured and perverted, to serve party purposes; but, until the 8th of December, we had not received that : accurate information on which alone we could I found a communication to parliament. That j precise information, on which we could act, j only arrived on Friday last. On Saturday, the decision of the government was taken on Sunday we obtained the sanction of his Majesty on Monday we came down to parliament and at this very hour, while I have now the honour of addressing the House, British troops are on their march for Portugal. I trust, there- fore, that we are not in justice to be charged with any unseemly delay; but, on the other hand, while we felt the claim of Portugal to be so clear, our obligation to assist her so binding, and the possible consequences of interference so spreading, it was our duty not to give any credit to hearsay or to rumour; but, while ad- mitting the full force of our obligation, we were bound to have the full knowledge of the facts of the case, before we took a step whose con- sequences no man could precisely calculate. Rumours and reports, as I have just said, were long afloat, of incursions made by Spain upon our ally; but, then, they reached us through channels upon which n'i man in his senses would found any grave proceeding. In one case, at Madrid, they were put forth to deceive ; in others, to conceal ; and, coming through the French newspaper press these rumours, I say, coming through such sources, were not to be relied upon by his Majesty's government, and we therefore waited for authenticated facts, in order to come before parliament with what we might call the truth. In former instances, when parliament was called upon to assist Portugal, the regular and constitutional power of the monarchy was lodged in the breast of the King : the signification of his wish, the expression of his desire, the putting forward his individual claim for assistance, would have been enough ; but when it was stated to me that matters had changed, that the constitution was modified and altered, it became my duty to inquii-e, first, whether the constitution of Por- tugal authorized the claim ; next, if it were competent to the authorities making it to do so, and whether the chambers had given their sanction to the reception of our troops, such as we were to expect for the troops of an old and faithful ally. We were bound to take care, before a single soldier left England, or set his foot upon the shore of Portugal, that the sanction of the executive of all the proper authorities should be obtained ; and I beg leave again to state, with reference to the charge of delay, which has somewhere or other been brought against his Majesty's ministers, that it was only this morning I received the sanction of the Chambers assembled at Lisbon. So far, then, from any charge of delay being justifiably brought against the government, I can boldly .say, had we proceeded faster, we should have acted precipitately, and every caution was ne- cessary to l)e used, before we involved this country in proceedings, which might prove to be unnecessary by the result, or might expose us to an unpleasant reception of our troops in Portugal. The account which I received to-day of the proceedings of the Chambers at Lisbon, is contained in a despatch from Sir W. A'Court, dated the 29th of November. It states, that the day after the arrival of the news of the entry of the rebels, ministers demanded the extension of their executive powers, an aug- mentation of the troops, and permission to apply for foreign assistance. The deputies assembled agreed to the demand with accla- mation, and a similar spirit operating in the other chamber, the members rose in a body from their seats, expressed their readiness to acquiesce in the call, and many of them offered their personal assistance in the cause of their country. The Duke de Cadaval, the president, was the first who so declared himself, and the minister, who described the pi-oceeding to our ambassador, declared it was a moment worthy of the good days of Portugal. THE ORATOR, 125 So far the House will see we have a reason- able guarantee for the good reception of our troops ; and then, the next question remaining for our consideration is, has the casus fcedcris arrived? Bands of Portuguese, armed, equipped, and trained in Spain, had made hostile in- cursions into Portugal at several points; and what is remarkable in this case is, that the attack on Portugal is not the ground on which the application for British assistance has been complied with. The attack in the south of Portugal was stated in the French papers ; but that on Tras os Montes was only received, authentically, this morning, and those on Villa Viciosa no longer ago than Friday. The in- telligence of this new fact is the more satis- factory, as it confirmed the facts which were already known. The irruption upon one point of Portugal might be stated to be made by some corps who had escaped the vigilance of the Spanish government ; it might be repre- sented as the effort of some stragglers, acting in defiance of Spain : but an attack on the whole line gives that decided and certain cha- racter to the aggression which cannot be mis- taken. If a single company of Spanish soldiers, in arms, had crossed the frontier, the hostile ag- gression would be undoubted ; and here the ques- tion is, to consider whether persons, clothed and equipped by Spain, and crossing the frontiers, are, or are not, guilty of an attack or invasion of Portugal forsooth, because they were not Spanish soldiers, or Spanish mercenaries in the employ of Spain ; but Portuguese troops, whom Portugal had nurtured, and who, in return, had brought with them devastation into their native land, and that by means furnished by a foreign enemy ? Why, it could be but petty and puerile quibbling to say, that this was not an invasion, because the agents were originally from Portugal : and that, therefore, their attack was not to be repelled. I have already stated, and I now repeat, that it never has been the wish or the pretension of the British government to interfere in the internal concerns of the Portuguese nation. Questions of that kind the Portuguese nation must settle among themselves. But if we were to admit that hordes of traitorous refugees from Portugal, with Spanish arms or arms furnished or ro stored to them by Spanish authorities in their hands, might put off their country for one purpose, and put it on again for another put it off for the purpose of attack, and put it on again for the purpose of impunity if, I say, we were to admit this juggle, and either pretend to be deceived by it ourselves, or attempt to deceive Portugal, into a belief that there was nothing of external attack, nothing of foreign hostility, in such a system of aggression such pretence and attempt would perhaps be only ridiculous and contemptible, if they did not acquire a much more serious character from being employed as an excuse for infidelity to ancient friendship, and as a pretext for getting rid of the positive stipulations of treaties. This then is the case which I lay before the House of Commons. Here is, on the one hand, an undoubted pledge of national faith not taken in a corner not kept secret between the parties but publicly recorded amongst the annals of history, in the face of the world. Here are, on the other hand, undeniable acts of foreign aggression, perpetrated, indeed, princi- pally through the instrumentality of domestic traitors ; but supported with foreign means, instigated by foreign councils, and directed to foreign ends. Putting these facts and this pledge together, it is impossible that his Majesty should refuse the call that has been made upon, him ; nor can Parliament, I am convinced, refuse to enable his Majesty to fulfil his undoubted obligations. I am willing to rest the whole question of to-night, and to call for the vote of the House of Commons upon this simple case, divested altogether of collateral circumstances ; from which I especially wish to separate it, in the minds of those who hear me, and also in the minds of others, to whom what I now say will find its way. If I were to sit down this moment, without adding another word, I have no doubt but that I should have the concur- rence of the House in the Address which I mean to propose. When I state this, it will be obvious to th<} House, that the vote for which I am about to call upon them is a vote for the defence of , Portugal, not a vote for war against Spain. I beg the House to keep these two points entirely distinct in their consideration. For the former I think I have said enough. If, in what I have now farther to say, I should bear hard \ipon the Spanish government, I beg that it may be observed that, unjustifiable as I shall show their conduct to have been contrary to the law of nations, contrary to the law of good neighbourhood, contrary, I might say, to the laws of God and man with respect to Portugal still I do not mean to preclude a locus ptzni- t cut ice-, a possibility of redress and reparation. It is our duty to fly to the defence of Portugal, be the assailant who he may. And be it remembered, that in thus fulfilling the stipula- tions of ancient treaties, of the existence and obligation of which all the world are aware, we, according to the universally admitted construc- tion of the law of nations, neither make war upon that assailant, nor give to that assailant, much less to any other power, just cause of war against ourselves. Sir, the present situation of Portugal is so anomaloxis, and the recent years of her history are crowded with events so unusual, that the THE ORATOR. Eouse will, perhaps, not think that I am unprofitably wasting its time, if I take the liberty of calling its attention shortly and suc- cinctly to those events, and to their influence on the political relations of Europe. It is known that the consequence of the residence of the King of Portugal in Brazil, was to raise the latter country from a colonial to a metropolitan condition; and that from the time when the King began to contemplate his return to Por- tugal, there grew up in Brazil a desire of inde- pendence that threatened dissension, if not something like civil contest, between the Euro- pean and American dominions of the house of Braganza. It is known also that Great Britain undertook a mediation between Portugal and Brazil, and induced the King to consent to a separation of the two crowns confirming that of Brazil on the head of his eldest son. The ink with which this agreement was written was scarcely dry, when the unexpected death of the King of Portugal produced a new state of things, which re-united on the same head the two crowns which it had been the policy of England, as well as of Portugal and of Brazil to separate. On that occasion, Great Britain, and another European court closely connected with Brazil, tendered advice to the Emperor of Brazil, now become King of Portugal, which advice it cannot be accurately said that his imperial Majesty followed, because he had de- cided for himself before it reached Rio de Janeiro ; but in conformity with which advice, though not in consequence of it, his imperial Majesty determined to abdicate the crown of Portugal in favour of his eldest daughter. But the Emperor of Brazil had done more. What had not been foreseen what would have been beyond the province of any foreign power to advise his imperial Majesty had accompanied his abdication of the crown of Portugal with the grant of a free constitutional charter to that kingdom. It has been surmised that this measure, as well as the abdication which it accompanied, was the offspring of our advice. No such thing : Great Britain did not suggest this mea- sure. It is not her duty nor her practice to offer suggestions for the internal regulation of foreign states. She neither approved nor dis- approved of the grant of a constitutional charter to Portugal : her opinion npon that grant was never required. True it is, that the instrument of the constitutional charter was brought to Europe by a gentleman of high trust in the service of the British government. Sir C. Stuart had gone to Brazil to negociate the separation between that country and Portugal. In addition to his character of plenipotentiary of Great Britain, as the mediating power, he had also been invested by the King of Portugal with the character of his most faithful Majesty's plenipotentiary for the negociation with Brazil. That negociation had been brought to a happy conclusion ; and therewith the British part of Sir C. Stuart's commission had terminated. But Sir C. Stuart was still resident at Rio de Janeiro, as the plenipotentiary of the King of Portugal, for negociating commercial arrange- ments between Portugal and Brazil. In this latter character it was, that Sir C. Stuart, on his return to Europe, was requested by the Emperor of Brazil to be the bearer to Portugal of the new constitutional charter. His Majesty's government found no fault with Sir 0. Stuart for executing this commission ; but it was im- mediately felt, that if Sir 0. Stuart were allowed to remain at Lisbon, it might appear, in the eyes of Europe, that England was the contriver and imposer of the Portuguese constitution. Sir C. Stuart was, therefore, directed to return home forthwith : in order that the constitution, if carried into effect there, might plainly appear to be adopted by the Portuguese nation itself, not forced upon them by English interference. As to the merits, Sir, of the new constitution of Portugal, I have neither the intention, nor the right, to offer any opinion. Personally, I may have formed one ; but as an English minister, all I have to say is, "May God prosper this attempt at the establishment of constitutional liberty in Portugal ! and may that nation be found as fit to enjoy and to cherish its new-born privileges, as it has often proved itself capable of discharging its duties amongst the nations of the world ! '\ I, Sir, am neither the champion nor the critic of the Portuguese constitution. But it is admitted on all hands to have proceeded from a legitimate source a consideration which has mainly reconciled continental Europe to its establishment : and to us, as Englishmen, it is recommended, by the ready acceptance which it has met with from ah 1 orders of the Portuguese people. To that constitution, therefore, thus unquestioned in its origin, even by those who are most jealous of new institutions to that constitution, thus sanctioned in its outset by the glad and grateful acclamations of those who are destined to live under it to that consti- tution, founded on principles in a great degree similar .to those of our own, though differently modified it is impossible that Englishmen should not wish well. But it would not be for us to force that constitution on the people of Portugal, if they were unwilling to receive it, or if any schism should exist amongst the Portuguese themselves, as to its fitness and congeniality to the wants and wishes of the nation. It is no business of ours to fight its battles. We go to Portugal in the discharge of a sacred obligation, contracted under ancient and modern treaties. When there, nothing shall be done by us to enforce the establishment THE OEATOB. 127 of the constitution; but we must take care that nothing shall be done by others to prevent it from being fairly earned into effect. In- ternally, let the Portuguese settle their own affairs ; but with respect to external force, while Great Britain has an arm to raise, it must be raised against the efforts of any power that should attempt forcibly to control the choice, and fetter the independence of Portugal. Has such been the intention of Spain? Whether the proceedings which have lately been practised or permitted in Spain, were acts of a government exercising the usual power of prudence and foresight (without which a go- vernment is, for the good of the people which live under it, no government at all), or whether they were the acts of some secret illegitimate power of some furious fanatical faction, over- riding the counsels of the ostensible government, defying it in the capital, and disobeying it on the frontiers I will not stop to inquire. It is indifferent to Portugal, smarting under her wrongs it is indifferent to England, who is called upon to avenge them whether the pre- sent state of things be the result of the intrigues of a faction, over which, if the Spanish govern- ment has no control, it ought to assume one as soon as possible ; or of local authorities, over whom it has control, and for whose acts it must, therefore, be held responsible. It matters not, I say, from which of these sources the evil has arisen. In either case, Portugal must be protected ; and from England that protection is dxie. It would be unjust, however, to the Spanish government, to say, that it is only amongst the members of that government that an un- conquerable hatred of liberal institutions exists in Spain. However incredible the phenomenon may appear in this country, I am persuaded that a vast majority of the Spanish nation entertain a decided attachment to arbitrary power, and a predilection for absolute govern- ment. The more liberal institutions of countries in their neighbourhood have not yet extended their influence into Spain, nor awakened any sympathy in the mass of the Spanish people. Whether the public authorities of Spain did or did not partake of the national sentiment, there would almost necessarily grow up between Portugal and Spain, under present circum- stances, an opposition of feelings, which it would not require the authority or the sug- gestions of the government to excite and stimulate into action. Without blame, there- fore, to the government of Spain out of the natural antipathy between the two neighbouring nations the one prizing its recent freedom, the other hugging its traditionaiy servitude there might arise mutual provocations, and reciprocal injuries which, perhaps, even the most active and vigilant ministry could not altogether re- strain. I am inclined to believe that such has been, in part at least, the origin of the differ- ences between Spain and Portugal. That in. their progress they have been adopted, matured, methodized, combined, and brought into more perfect action, by some authority more united and more efficient than the mere feeling dis- seminated through the mass of the community, is certain ; but I do believe their origin to have been as much in the real sentiment of the Spanish population, as in the opinion or con- trivance of the government itself. Whether this be or be not the case, is pre- cisely the question between us and Spain. If, though partaking in the general feelings of the Spanish nation, the Spanish government has, nevertheless, done nothing to embody those feelings, and to direct them hostilely against Portugal ; if all that has occurred on the frontiers, has occurred only because the vigilance of the Spanish government has been surprised, its confidence betrayed, and its orders neglected if its engagements have been repeatedly and shamefully violated, not by its own good will, but against its recommendation and desire let us see some symptoms of disapprobation, some signs of repentance, some measures in- dicative of SOITOW for the past, and of sincerity for the future. In that case his Majesty's Message, to which I propose this night to return an answer of concurrence, will retain the character which I have ascribed to it that of a measure of defence for Portugal, not a measure of resentment against Spain. With these explanations and qualifications, let us now proceed to the review of facts. Great desertions took place from the Portuguese army into Spain, and some desertions took place from the Spanish army into Portugal. In the first instance, the Portuguese authorities were taken' by surprise ; but, in every subse- quent instance, where they had an opportunity of exercising a discretion, it is but just to say, that they uniformly discouraged the desertions of the Spanish soldiery. There exist between Spain and Portugal specific treaties, stipulating the mutual surrender of deserters. Portugal had, therefore, a right to claim of Spain that every Portuguese deserter should be forthwith sent back. I hardly know whether from its own impulse, or in consequence of our advice, the Portuguese government waived its right tinder those treaties; very wisely reflecting, that it would be highly inconvenient to be placed, by the return of their deserters, in the difficult alternative of either granting a dan- gerous amnesty, or ordering numerous execu- tions. The Portuguese government, therefore, signified to Spain that it woiild be entirely satisfied if, instead of surrendering the deserters, Spain would restore their arms, horses, and equipments- ; and, separating the men from 128 THE ORATOR. their officers, would remove both from the fron- tiers into the interior of Spain. Solemn en- gagements were entered into by the Spanish government to this effect first with Portugal, next with France, and afterwards with England. Those engagements, concluded one day, were violated the next. The deserters, instead of being disarmed and dispersed, were allowed to remain congregated together near the frontiers of Portugal, where they were enrolled, trained, and disciplined, for the expedition which they have since undertaken. It is plain that in these proceedings there was perfi%_gpmewhere. It rests with the Spanish government to show that it was not with them. It rests with the Spanish government to prove, that if its engage- ments have not been fulfilled if its intentions have been eluded and unexecuted, the fault has not been with the government ; and that it is ready to make every reparation in its power. I have said that these promises were made to France and to Great Britain, as well as to Portugal. I should do a great injustice to France if I were not to add, that the represen- tations of that government upon this point with the cabinet of Madrid, have been as urgent, and, alas ! as fruitless, as those of Great Britain. Upon the first irruption into the Portuguese territory, the French government testified its displeasure by instantly recalling its ambassador; and it further directed its cliarge d'affaires to signify to his Catholic Majesty that Spain was not to look for any support from France against the consequences of this aggression upon Portugal. I am bound, I repeat, in justice to the French government, to state, that it has exerted itself to the utmost, in urging Spain to retrace the steps which she has so unfortunately taken. It is not for me to say whether any more efficient course might have been adopted to give effect to their exhor- tations ; but as to the sincerity and good faith of the exertions made by the government of France, to press Spain to the execution of her engagements, I have not the shadow of a doubt : and I confidently reckon upon their continuance. It will be for Spain, upon knowledge of the step now taken by his Majesty, to consider in what way she will meet it. The earnest hope and wish of his Majesty's government is, that she may meet it in such a manner as to avert any ill consequences to herself, from the measure into which we have been driven by the unjust attack upon Portugal. Sir, I set out with saying, that there were reasons which entirely satisfied my judgment that nothing short of a point of national faith or national honour would justify, at the present moment, any voluntaiy approximation to the possibility of war. Let me be understood, how- ever, distinctly, as not meaning to say that I dread a war in a good cause (and in no other may it be the lot of this country ever to engage !) from a distrust of the strength of the country to commence it, or of her resources to maintain it. I dread it, indeed ; but upon far other grounds : I dread it from an apprehension of the tremendous consequences which might arise from any hostilities in which we might now be engaged. Some years ago, in the discussion I of the negociations respecting the French war ! against Spain, I took the liberty of adverting I to this topic. I then stated that the position | of this country in the present state of the world, was one of neutrality, not only between con- tending nations, but between conflicting prin- ciples ; and that it was by neutrality alone that we could maintain that balance, the preservation of which I believed to be essential to the welfare of mankind. I then said, that I feared that the next war which should be kindled in Europe, would be a war not so much of armies as of opinions. Not four years have elapsed, and behold my apprehension realized ! It is, to be sure, within narrow limits that this war of opinion is at present confined : but it is a war of opinion, that Spain (whether as government or as nation) is now waging against Portugal; it is a war which has commenced in hatred of the new institutions of Portugal. How long is it reasonable to expect that Portugal will abstain from retaliation ? If into that war this country shall be compelled to enter, we shall enter into it with a sincere and anxious desire to mitigate rather than exasperate and to mingle only in the conflict of arms, not in the more fatal conflict of opinions. But I much fear that this country (however earnestly she may endeavour to avoid it), could not, in such case, avoid seeing ranked under her banners all the restless and dissatisfied of any nation with which she might come in conflict. It is the contemplation of this new power in any future war, which excites my most anxious apprehension. It is one thing to have a giant's strength, but it would be another to use it like a giant. The consciousness of such strength is, undoubtedly, a source of confidence and security ; but in the situation in which this country stands, our business is not to seek opportunities of displaying it, but to content ourselves with letting the professors of violent and exaggerated doctrines on both sides feel, that it is not their interest to convert an umpire into an adversary. The situation of England amidst the struggle of political opinions which agitate more or less sensibly different countries of the world, may be compared to that of the Ruler of the Winds, as described by the poet : " Celsii sedet Jiolus avce, Sceptra teuens ; mollitque animos et temperat iras ; Xi faciat, maria ac terras cculumque profun Jum Quippe feraat rapidi secum, verrantqua per auras." THE OBA.TOR. The consequence of letting loose the passions at present chained and confined, would be to pro- duce a scene of desolation which no man can contemplate without horror ; and I should not sleep easy on my couch, if I were conscious that I had contributed to precipitate it by a single moment. This, then, is the reason a reason very dif- ferent from fear the reverse of a consciousness of disability why I dread the recurrence of hostilities in any part of Europe ; why I would bear much, and would forbear long; why I would, as I have said, put up with almost any thing that did not touch national faith and national honour; rather than let slip the fnries of war, the leash of which we hold in our hands not knowing whom they may reach, or how far their ravages may be earned. Such is the love of peace which the British govern- ment acknowledges ; and such the necessity for peace which the circumstances of the world in- culcatey' I will push these topics no farther. I return, in conclusion, to the object of the Address. Let us fly to the aid of Portugal, by whomsoever attacked, because it is our duty to do so, and let us cease our interference where that duty ends. We go to Portugal, not to rule, not to dictate, not to prescribe constitutions ; but to defend and to preserve the independence of an ally. We go to plant the standard of England on the well-known heights of Lisbon. Where that standard is planted, foreign do- minion shall not come. [After an animated debate arising out of the address, in which Messrs. Brougham, Hume, and other leading members of the House took part, Canning replied as follows ; and some portions of that reply are amongst the most celebrated passages in modern oratory.] I rise, Sir, for the purpose of making a few observations, not so much in answer to any general arguments, as in reply to two or three particular objections which have been urged against the Address which I have had the honour to propose to the House. In the first place, I frankly admit to my honourable friend (Mr. Bankes), the member for Dorsetshire, that I have understated the case against Spain : I have done so designedly I warned the House that I would do so because I wished no further to impeach the conduct of Spain than was necessary for establishing the casus fcederis on behalf of Portugal. To have gone further to have made a full statement of the case against Spain would have been to preclude the very object which I have in view that of enabling Spain to preserve peace with- out dishonour. honourable gentleman (Mr. Bright) who spoke last, indeed, in his extreme love for peace, proposes expedients which, as it appears to me, would render war inevitable. He would avoid NO. XVII. interference at this moment, when Spain may be yet hesitating as to the course which she shall adopt ; and the language which he would hold to Spain is, in effect, this : " You have not yet done enough to implicate British faith, and to provoke British honour. "4ou have not done enough, in merely enabling Bortuguese rebels to invade Portugal, and to carry destruction into her cities ; you have not opne enough in combining knots of traitors, whmi, after the most solemn engagements to disarm and to disperse them, you carefully re-assetnbled, and equipped and sent back with Spanish, arms, to be plunged into kindred Portuguese bosoms. I will not stir for all these things. Pledged though I am by the most solemn obligations of treaty to resent attack upon Portugal as inju- rious to England, I love too dearly the peace of Europe to be goaded into activity by such trifles as these. No. But give us a good declaration of war, and then I'll come and fight you with all my heart." This is the honourable gentleman's contrivance for keeping peace. The more clumsy contrivance of his Majesty's go- vernment is this : " We have seen enough to show to the world that Spain authorized, if she did not instigate, the invasion of Portugal )." and we say to Spain, " Beware, we will avenge the cause of our ally, if you break out into declared war; but, in the meantime, we will take effectual care to frustrate your concealed hostilities." I appeal to my honourable friend, the member for Dorsetshire, whether he does not prefer this course of his Majesty's govern- ment, the object of which is to nip growing hostilities in the ear, to that of the gallant and chivalrous member for Bristol, who would let aggressions ripen into full maturity, in order that they may then be mowed down with the scythe of a magnificent war./' My honourable friend (Mr. Bankes) will now see why it is that no papers have been laid before the House. The facts which call for our interference in behalf of Portugal are notorious as the noon-day sun. That interference is our whole present object. To prove more than is sufficient for that object, by papers laid upon the table of this House, would have been to preclude Spain from that locus pcenitentice which we are above all things desirous to preserve to her. It is difficult, perhaps, with the full knowledge which the government must in such cases possess, to judge what exact portion ct that knowledge should be meted out for ou? present purpose, without hazarding an exposure which might carry us too far. I know not how far I have succeeded in this respect ; but I can assure the House, that if the time should un- fortunately arrive when a further exposition shall become necessary, it will be found, that it was not for want of evidence that my statement of this day has been defective. 130 THE ORATOR An amendment has been proposed, purport- ing a delay of a week, but in effect, intended to produce a total abandonment of the object of the Address; and that amendment has been justified by a reference to the conduct of the government, and to the language used by me in this House, between three and four years ago. It is stated, and truly, that I did not then deny that cause for war had been given by France in the invasion of Spain, if we had then thought fit to enter into war on that , .count. But it seems to be forgotten that there is one main difference between that case and the present which difference, however, is essential and all-sufficient. We were then free to go to war, if we pleased, on grounds of political expediency. But we were not then bound to interfere, on behalf of Spain, as we now are bound to interfere on behalf of Portugal, by the obligations of treaty. War might then have been our free choice, if we had deemed it politic interference on behalf of Portugal is now our duty, unless we are prepared to abandon the principles of national faith and national honour. It is a singular confusion of intellect which confounds two cases so precisely dissimilar. Far from objecting to the reference to 1823, 1 refer to that same occasion to show the consistency of the conduct of myself and my colleagues. We were then accused of truckling to France, from a pusillanimous dread of war. We pleaded guilty to the charge of wishing to avoid war. We described its inexpediency, its inconveni- ences, and its dangers dangers especially of the same sort of those which I have hinted at to-day ; but we declared that, although we could not overlook those dangers, those incon- veniences, and that inexpediency, in a case in which remote interest and doubtful policy were alone assigned as motives for war, we would cheerfully affront them all, in a case if it should arrive where national faith or national honour were concerned. Well, then, a case has now arisen, of which the essence is faith of which the character is honour. And when we call upon Parliament, not for offensive war which was proposed to us in 1823, but for defensive armament, we are referred to our abstinence in 1823, as disqualifying us for exertion at the present moment; and we are told, that because we did not attack France on that occasion, we must not defend Portugal on this. I, Sir, like the proposers of the amend- ment, place the two cases of 1823 and 1826 side by side, and deduce from them, when taken together, the exposition and justification of our general policy. I appeal from the warlike prepa- rations of to-day, to the forbearance of 1823, in proof of the pacific character of our counsels ; I appeal from the imputed tameness of 1823, to the Message of to-night, in illustration of the nature of those motives, by which a government, generally pacific, may nevertheless be justly roused into action. Having thus disposed of the objections to the Address, I come next to the suggestions of some who profess themselves friendly to the purpose of it, but who would cany that purpose into effect by means which I certainly cannot approve. It has been suggested, Sir, that we should at once ship off the Spanish refugees now in this country, for Spain ; and that we should, by the repeal of the Foreign Enlistment Act, let loose into the contest all the ardent and irregular spirits of this country. Sir, this is the very suggestion which I have anticipated with apprehension, in any war in which this country might be engaged, in the present un- quiet state of the minds of men in Europe. These are the expedients, the tremendous cha- racter of which I ventured to adumbrate rather than to describe, in the speech with which I prefaced the present motion. Such expedients I disclaim. I dread and deprecate the employ- ment of them. So far, indeed, as Spain herself is concerned, the employment of such means would be strictly, I might say, epigrammatically just. The Foreign Enlistment Act was passed in the year 1819, if not at the direct request, for the especial benefit, of Spain. What right, then, would Spain have to complain if we should repeal it now, for the especial benefit of Portugal? The Spanish refugees have been harboured in this country, it is true ; but on condition of abstaining from hostile expeditions against Spain ; and more than once, when such ex- peditions have been planned, the British go- vernment has interfered to suppress them. How is this tenderness for Spain rewarded ? Spain not only harbours, and fosters, and sustains, but arms, equips, and marshals the traitorous refugees of Portugal, and pours them by thousands into the bosom of Great Britain's nearest ally. So far, then, as Spain is con- cerned, the advice of those who would send forth against Spain such dreadful elements of strife and destruction, is, as I have admitted, not unjust. But I repeat, again and again, that I disclaim all such expedients ; and that I dread especially a war with Spain, because it is the war of all others in which, by the ex- ample and practice of Spain herself, such expedients are most likely to be adopted. Let us avoid that war if we can that is, if Spain will permit us to do so. But, in any case, let us endeavour to strip any war if war we must have of that formidable and disastrous cha- racter which the honourable gentleman. (Mr. Brougham) has so eloquently described, and which I was happy to hear him concur with me in deprecating, as the most fatal evil by which the world could be afflicted. THE ORATOR. 131 Sir, there is another suggestion with which I cannot agree, although brought forward by two honourable members (Sir R. Wilson and Mr. Baring), who have, in the most handsome manner, stated their reasons for approving of the line of conduct now pursued by his Majesty's government. Those honourable members insist that the French army in Spain has been, if not the cause, the encouragement of the late attack by Spain against Portugal ; that his Majesty's government were highly culpable in allowing that army to enter into Spain ; that its stay there is highly injurious to British interests and t honour; and that we ought instantly to call upon France to withdraw it. There are, Sir, so many considerations con- nected with these propositions, that were I to enter into them all, they would carry me far beyond what is either necessary or expedient to be stated on the present occasion. Enough, perhaps, it is for me to say, that I do not see how the withdrawing of the French troops from Spain could effect our present purpose. I believe, Sir, that the French army in Spain is now a protection to that very party which it was originally called in to put down. "Were the French army suddenly removed at this precise moment, I verily believe that the immediate effect of that removal would be, to give full scope to the unbridled rage of a fanatical faction, before which, in the whirlwind of intestine strife, the party least in numbers would be swept away. So much for the immediate effect of the demand which it is proposed to us to make, if that demand were instantly successful. But when, with reference to the larger question of a military occupation of Spain by France, it is averred, that by that occupation the relative situation of Great Britain and France is altered ; that France is thereby exalted and Great Britain lowered, in the eyes of Europe, I must beg leave to say that I dissent from that aver- ment. The House knows, the country knows, that when the French army was on the point of entering Spain, his Majesty's government did all in their power to prevent it that we resisted it by all means short of war. I have just now stated some of the reasons why we did not think the entry of that army into Spain a sufficient ground for war ; but there was, in addition to those which I have stated, this peculiar reason that whatever effect a war, commenced upon the mere ground of the entry of a French army into Spain, might have, it probably would not have had the effect of getting that army out of Spain. In a war against France at that time, as at any other, you might, perhaps, have acquired military glory ; you might, perhaps, have extended your colonial possessions ; you might even have achieved, at great cost of blood and treasure, an honourable peace; but as to g-?H?n{,' French out of Spain, that would have been thr one object which you, almost certainly, would not have accomplished. How seldom, in the whole history of the wars of Europe, has any war between two great powers ended in the obtaining of the exact, the identical object, for which the war was begun ? Besides, Sir, I confess I think, that the effects of the French occupation of Spain have been infinitely exaggerated. I do not blame those exaggerations, because I am aware that they are to be attributed to the recollections of some of the best times of our history ; that they are the echoes of sen- timents which, in the days of William and Anne, animated the debates, and dictated the votes of the British parliament. No peace was in those days thought safe for this country while the crown of Spain continued on the head of a Bourbon. But were not the appre- hensions of those days greatly overstated ? Has the power of Spain swallowed up the power of maritime England ? Or does England still remain, after the lapse of more than a century, during which the crown of Spain has been worn by a Bourbon niched in a nook of that same Spain Gibraltar; an occupation which was contemporaneous with the apprehensions that I have described, and which has happily survived them ? Again, Sir, is the Spain of the present day the Spain of which the statesmen of the times of William and Anne were so much afraid? Is it indeed the nation whose puissance was expected to shake England from her sphere? No, Sir, it was quite another Spain. It was the Spain, within the limits of whose empire the sun never set it was Spain " with the Indies " that excited the jealousies and alarmed the imaginations of our ancestors. But then, Sir, the balance of power ! The entry of the French army into Spain disturbed that balance, and we ought to have gone to war to restore it ! I have already said, that when the French army entered Spain, we might, if we chose, have resisted or resented that measui-e by war. But were there no other means than war for restoring the balance of power ? Is the balance of power a fixed and unalterable stand- ard? Or is it not a standard perpetually vary- ing, as civilisation advances, and as new nations spring up, and take their place among estab- lished political communities ? The balance of power a century and a half ago was to be adjusted between France and Spain, the Nether- lands, Austria, and England. Some years afterwards, Russia assumed her high station in European politics. Some years after that again, Prussia became not only a substantive, but a preponderating monarchy. Thus while the balance of power continued in principle the THE ORATOR. same, tlie means of adjusting it became more \aiieil and enlarged. They became enlarged, in proportion to the increased number of con- siderable states : in proportion, I may say, to die number of weights which might be shifted into the one or the other scale. To look to the policy of Europe in the times of William and Anne, for the purpose of regulating the balance of power in Europe at the present day, is to disregard the progress of events, and to confuse dates and facts which throw a re- ciprocal light upon each other. It would be disingenuous, indeed, not to admit that the entry of the French army into Spain was, in a certain sense, a disparagement an affront to the pride a blow to the feelings of England. And it can hardly be supposed that the government did not sympathise on that occasion with the feelings of the people. But I deny that, questionable or censurable as the act might be, it was one which necessarily called for our direct and hostile opposition. Was nothing then to be done P Was there no other mode of resistance, than by a direct attack upon France, or by a war to be under- taken on the soil of Spain? What, if the possession of Spain might be rendered harmless in rival hands harmless as regards us, and valueless to the possessors ? Might not com- pensation for disparagement be obtained, and the policy of our ancestors vindicated by means better adapted to the present time ? If France occupied Spain, was it necessary, in order to avoid the consequences of that occupation, that we should blockade Cadiz ? No. I looked another way. I sought materials of compen- sation in another hemisphere. Contemplating Spain, such as our ancestors had known her, I resolved that if France had Spain, it should not be Spain " with the Indies." I called the New World into existence, to redress the balance of the Old. It is thus, Sir, that I answer the accusation brought against his Majesty's government, of having allowed the French army to usurp and to retain the occupation of Spain. That oc- cupation, I am quite confident, is an unpaid and unredeemed burden to France. It is a burden of which, I verily believe, France would be glad to rid herself. But they know little of the feelings of the French government, and of the spirit of the French nation, who do not know, that, worthless or burdensome as that occupation may be, the way to rivet her in it would be, by angry or intemperate representa- tions, to make the continuance of that occu- pation a point of honour. I believe, Sir, there is no other subject on which I need enter into defence or explanation. The support which the Address has received, from all parties in the House, has been such as would make it both unseemly ami ungrateful in me to trespass unnecessarily upon their patience. In conclusion, Sir, I shall only once more declare, that the object of the Address which I propose to you is not war : its object is to take the last chance of peace. If you do not go forth, on this occasion, to the aid of Portugal, Portugal will be trampled down, to your irretrievable disgrace : and then will come war in the train of national degradation. If, under circumstances like these, you wait till Spain has matured her secret machinations into open hostility, you will in a little while have the sort of war required by the pacificators. And who shall say where that war will end ? WILLIAM COBBETT. Born 1762. Died 1835. [WILLIAM COBBETT is not a name that stands high in the list of orators, nevertheless so active was he both with voice and pen for many years, that some memorial of this extraordinary man may fairly come within the scope of this work. The specimen of his style \vhich is here given may be studied as strikingly characteristic of his angrier moods, and however little the reader may sympathise with the sentiments expressed, it is impos- sible to deny the force and fire with which they are set down in the address which follows.] ADDKESS TO THE INDUSTRIOUS CLASSES. (On the Causes of Poverty and Misery in the Time of Cobbett.) rilHE picture which our country exhibits at J_ this moment, while it sinks our own hearts within us, fills the whole civilized world with wonder and amazement. This country has been famed, in all ages, not only for its freedom and for the security its laws gave to person and property, but for the happiness of its people, for the comfort they enjoyed, for the neatness and goodness of their dress, the good quality and the abundance of their household furniture, bedding, and utensils, and for the excellence and plenty of their food. So that a Lord Chancellor, who four hundred years ago wrote a book on our laws, observes in that book, that, owing to these good laws and the security and freedom they gave, the English people possessed, in abundance, all things that conduce to make life easy and happy. This was the state of our great-grandfathers and great-grandmothers, who little thought of what was to befall their descendants ! The very name of England was pronounced throughout the world with respect. That very name was thought to mean high-spirit, impartial justice, freedom, and happiness. What does it mean now ? It means that which I have not the power to describe, nor the heart to describe, if I had the power. England now contains the most miserable people that ever trod the earth. It is the seat of greater human suffering, of more pain of body and mind, than was ever before heard of in the world. In countries THE ORATOR. which have been deemed the most wretched, there never has existed wretchedness equal to that which is now exhibited in this once flourish- ing, free, and happy country. In this country the law provides that no human being shall suffer from want of food, lodging, or raiment. Our forefathers, when they gave security to property, when they made the laws to give to the rich the safe enjoyment of their wealth, did not forget that there must always be some poor, and that God wished that the poor should not perish for want, they being entitled to an existence as well as the rich. Therefore, the law said, and it still says, that to make a sure and certain provision for the poor, is required by the first principles of civil society. He who is rich to-day may be poor to-morrow ; and he is not to starve because he is become unfortunate. Upon this principle of common humanity and of natural justice the Poor-laivs were founded; and those laws give to every one a right, a legal as well as an equitable right, to be maintained out of the real property of the country, if, from whatever cause, unable to obtain a maintenance through his or her own exertions. To receive parish-relief is no favour ! it is no gift that the relieved person receives ; it is what the law insures him ; and what he cannot be refused without a breach of the law, and without an outrageous act of injustice and oppression.. Such being the law ; that is, the law having taken care that relief shall always be at hand for the destitute, the law has forbidden begging. It has pointed out to every destitute person the place where he can obtain legal and effectual relief, and, therefore, it has said : " You shall not beg. If you beg, you shall be punished." And as we well know, punishment is frequently inflicted for begging. But what do we see before our eyes at this moment ? We see, all over the kingdom, mi- sery existing to such an extent, that the Poor- laws are found insufficient, and that a system of general beggary is introduced, under the name of subscriptions, voluntary contributions, soup-shops, and the like, and, in the Metro- polis, where our eyes are dazzled with the splendour of those who live on taxes, we see that a society has been formed for raising money to provide a receptacle for the houseless poor during the night ; that is to say, to give a few hours' shelter to wretched beings, who must otherwise lie down and die in the very streets ! To-day we read of a poor man ex- piring on his removal from one country parish to another. To-morrow we read of a poor woman, driven back from the door of one poor- house in London, carried back to expire in another poor-house before the morning. The next day we read of a man found dead in the street, and nearly a skeleton ; while we daily see men harnessed and drawing carts loadou with gravel to repair the highways. Is this England ? Can this be England ? And can these wretched and miserable and degraded objects be Englishmen ? Yes, this is England ; with grief, shame, and indignation we must confess it ; but still we must confess that such is now once free and happy England ! That same country that was until of late years famed throughout the world for all that was great, good, amiable, and enviable. This change never can have taken place without a cause. There must have been some- thing, and something done by man, too, to produce this change, this disgraceful, this dis- tressing, this horrible change. God has not afflicted the country with pestilence or with famine ; nor has the land been invaded and ravaged by an enemy. Providence has, of late, been more than ordinarily benevolent to us. Three successive harvests of xmcommon abun- dance have blessed, or would have blessed, these islands. Peace has been undisturbed. War appears not to have been even thought possible. The sounds of warlike glory have, even yet, hardly ceased to vibrate on our ears. And yet, in the midst of profound peace and abundant harvests, the nation seems to be convulsed with the last struggles of gnawing hunger. It is man, therefore, and not a benevolent Creator, who has been the cause of our suffer- ings, present and past, and of the more horrid sufferings, which we now but reasonably antici- pate. To man, therefore, must we look for an account of these evils, into the cause of which let us, without any want of charity, but, at the same time, without fear and without self-decep- tion, freely inquire. My good, honest, kind, and industrious country -people, you have long been deceived by artful and intriguing and interested men, who have a press at their command, and who, out of taxes raised from your labour, have persuaded you that your sufferings arise from nothing that man can cause or cure. But have only a little patience with me, and I think that I am able to convince you, that your sufferings and your degradation have arisen from the weight of taxes imposed on you, and from no other cause ivhatever. When you consider that your salt, pepper, soap, candles, sugar, tea, beer, shoes, and all other things are taxed, you must see that you pay taxes yourselves ; and when you consider that the taxes paid by your richer neighbours disable them from paying you so much in wages as they would otherwise pay you, you must perceive, that taxes are disadvantageous to you. In short, it is a fact that no man can deny, that the poverty and misery of the people have gone on increasing precisely in the same degree that the taxes have gone on increasing. THE OBATOB. The tax on salt is fifteen shillings a bushel. Ifeb oost at the sea-side, where a kind Providence throws it abundantly on our shores, is one shil- ling. Owing to the delays and embarrassments arising from the tax, the price comes, at last, to twenty shillings ! Thus, a bushel of salt, which is about as much as a middling family uses in a year (in all sorts of ways), costs to that famliy eighteen shillings, at least, in tax ! Now, if an industrious man's family had the eighteen shil- lings in pocket, instead of paying them in tax, would not that family be the better for the change ? If, instead of paying sixpence for a pot of beer (if beer a man must have) he had to pay twopence, would not he be fourpence the richer ? And if the taxes were light instead of heavy, would not your wages and profits enable you to live better and dress better than you now do ? They who have good health, good luck, and small families, make a shift to go along with this load of taxes. Others bend under it. Others come down to poverty. And a great part of these are pressed to the very earth, some ending their days in workhouses, and others perishing from actual want. The farmers are daily falling into ruin ; the little farmers fall first ; the big ones become little, and the little ones become paupers, unless they escape from the country, while they have money enough to cany them away. Thousands of men of some property are, at this moment, preparing to quit the country. The poor cannot go ; so that things, without a great change, will be worse and worse for all that remain, except for those who live upon the taxes. And how are these taxes disposed of? We are told by impudent men, who live on these taxes, that we, the payers of the taxes, are be- come too learned ; that we have been brought too near to the Government ; that is to say, that we have got a peep behind the curtain. It is well known that a great deal has been said about educating the poor. At one time, even the poverty was ascribed to a want of education amongst the labouring classes. They were so ignorant, and that was the cause of their mi- eery. And poor Mr. Whitbread said that the Scotch were better than the English, only be- cause they were better educated. But now, behold, we are too well educated : we are too knowing ; we have approached too near to the Government ; and therefore new laws have been passed to keep us at a greater distance ; a more respectful distance. This precaution comes, however, too late. We have had our look behind the curtain. We cannot be again deluded. We cannot be made to unlcnow that which we know. We know that the fruit of our labour is mortgaged to those who have lent money to the Government. We know, that to pay the interest of this mortgage to pay a standing army in time of peace to pay the tax-gatherers and to pay placemen and pensioners, we are so heavily taxed, that we can no longer live in comfort, and that many of us are wholly destitute of food, and are brought to our deaths by hunger. Endeavours have been made to persuade us, that we are not hurt by the taxes. It has been said, that taxes come back to us, and are a great blessing to us. And Mr. Justice Bailey has lately taken occasion to say from the bench, that a national debt is a good thing, and even a necessary thing. England did pretty well without a debt for seven hundred years ! How this matter came to be talked of from the bench I do not know ; but for my part I look upon a national debt as the greatest curse that ever aiflicted a people. In our country it has made a happy people miserable, and a free people slaves. And I am convinced that, unless that debt be got rid of in some way or other, and that, too, in a short time, this country will fall so low, that a century will not see it revive. Those who wish to make us believe that it is not the taxes that make us poor and miser- able, tell us that they come back to us. This being a grand source of delusion, I will endea- vour to explain the matter to you. I have done it many times; but all eyes are not opened at the first operation ; and, besides, there are, every month, some young persons who are beginning to read about such things, ^/xhirke, of whom many of you never heard, said that taxes were dews, drawn up by the blessed sun of government, and sent down again upon the people in refreshing and fructify- ing shoivcrs. This was a very pretty description, but very false. For taxes, though they fall in heavy showers upon one part of the community, never return to another part of it. To those who live on taxes, the taxes are, indeed, refresh- ing and fructifying showers ; but to those who pay them, they are a scorching sun and a blighting wind. They draw away the riches of the soil, and they render it sterile and unpro- ductive. But how came this Burke to talk in this way P Why, he was one of those who lived upon the taxes ! Very fine and refreshing and fertilizing showers fell upon him. He had a pension of three thousand pounds a year for his life ; his wife, fifteen hundred pounds a year for her life ; and besides these, he obtained, in 1795, grants of money to be paid yearly to his executors after his death! And not a trifle neither ; for he took care to get this settled upon executors, two thousand five hundred pounds a year, f The following is a copy of the grant : "To the executors of Edmund Burke, 2,500 a year. Granted by two patents, dated 24th October, 1795 One for 1,160 a year, to be paid during the life of Lord Royston, and the Rev. and Hon. Anchild Grey. THE ORATOR. l.'o The other for 1,340 to be paid during the life of the Princess Amelia, Lord Althorp, and William Cavendish, Esq." Now, as Mr. Grey is still alive, and as Lord Althorp and Mr. Cavendish are alive, the money is all of it still paid to the executors of Burke; these executors have already received on this account more than fifty thousand pounds in principal money ; and as there is no probability of the death of the gentlemen above-named, they may yet receive double the sum. Burke's pension, while he was alive, cost the nation about twenty thousand pounds ; and his wife's about four thousand pounds. So that here are about seventy-four thousand pounds already paid by the public on account of this one man, and that, too, in principal money, without reckoning interest I This, you win allow, must have been to Burke, his wife, and executors, an exceedingly refreshing and fructifying shower! But not so to those who have had to pay this money. It has not tended to refresh us. In the space of twenty -seven years, seventy -four thousand pounds have been taken from us, who,, pay the ta.xes, on account of this one man. \ Now, sup- pose a different mode from the present were used in making us pay taxes. The pensions have, for the last twenty-seven years, amounted to 2,740 a year. Suppose the amount of them to have been raised upon fifty tradesmen, at 54 a year each. Would not each of these tradesmen be now 2,700 poorer than they would have been, if they had not had these " refreshing showers," to send off in dews ? Suppose them to be raised upon 400 labourers at about 10 each. Must not these 400 la- bourers be made poor and miserable, must they not be prevented from saving a penny ; and must they not, at last, be brought to the poor- house by these " refreshing showers P " Is not this as plain as the nose on your face ? Is it not plain that this pension to the executors of this man now takes away the means of comfort- able living from nearly four hundred labourers' families ? Has not this been going on for twenty-seven years ; and has one single man in Parliament made even an effort to. put a stop to it ? Has one single man moved even for an inquiry into the matter ? And yet the facts are all before the Parliament in their own printed reports ! And what services did this Burke render the country P For to give such a man such enormous sums, there must have been some reason. His services were these : He deserted his party in the Opposition; and he wrote three pamphlets to urge the nation on to war, and to cause it to persevere in the war, against the republicans of France ! Which war raised the annual taxes from sixteen millions a year in time of peace, to fifty-three millions a year in time of peace, and the poor-rates from two millions a year to about tivelve millions a year ! These were the sendees which were so great, that it was not sufficient to give him three thousand pounds a year for them during his life-time, but we must still pay the executors two thousand five hundred pounds a year; and may have to pay them this for fifty years yet to come ! Need we wonder that we are poor? Need we wonder that we are miserable ? Need we wonder that we have, at last, come to see Eng- lishmen harnessed and drawing carts,' loaded with gravel? And if we complain of these things, are we to be told that we are seditious ? Are we to be told that we wish to destroy the Constitution P Are we to be imprisoned, fined, and banished P DANIEL WEBSTER. Bom 1782. Died 1852. CHARACTER OF TRUE ELOQUENCE. WHEN public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable, in speech, farther than it is con- nected with high intellectual and moral endow- ments. Clearness, force, and earnestness, are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labour and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spon- taneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments, and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent ; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear con- ception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and tirging the whole man onward, right onward to his object this, this is eloquence : or rather it is some- thing greater and higher than all eloquence it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action. , THE ORATOR. HENRY GRATTAN. Born 1750. Died 1820. [THE subjoined speech was delivered by Grattan in the House of Commons on the 25th May, 1815, and is a grand specimen of his varied power. In the language of a late eloquent editor of Grattan's speeches (Mr. D. O. Madden) " it may be said with truth, that the speeches of Grattan are a valuable contribution to political philosophy, well meriting the best attention of the statesman, the historian, and the philosopher. The thinking power to be found in all his speeches, com- bined with his vivid imagery, his singular mastery over rhythm, and the impassioned spirit pervading them, form their distinctive characteristics. There never was such an union of the orator and the sage." Apart from the historical interest which attaches to its subject, the following speech is remarkable also for its lofty and generous estimate of the characters of Fox and Burke, which occurs towards its close.] THE DOWNFALL OF BUONAPARTE. SIR, I sincerely sympathize with the honour- able gentleman who spoke last in his anxiety on this important question; and my solicitude is increased by a knowledge that I differ in opinion from my oldest political friends. I have further to contend against the additional weight given to the arguments of the noble lord who moved the amendment, by the purity of his mind, the soundness of his judgment, and the elevation of his rank. I agree with my honour- able friends in thinking that we ought not to impose a government upon France. I agree with them in deprecating the evil of war ; but I deprecate still more the double evil of a peace without securities, and a war without allies. Sir, I wish it was a question between peace and war ; but, unfortunately for the country, very painfully to us, and most injuriously to all ranks of men, peace is not in our option ; and the real question is, whether we shall go to war when our allies are assembled, or fight the battle when those allies shall be dissipated ? Sir, the French government is war; it is a statocracy, elective, aggressive, and predatory ; her armies live to fight, and fight to live ; their constitution is essentially war, and the object of that war the conquest of Europe. What such a person as Buonaparte at the head of such a constitution will do, you may judge by what he has done ; and, first, he took possession of the greater part of Europe ; he made his son King of Rome ; he made his son-in-law Viceroy of Italy ; he made his brother King of Holland ; he made his brother-in-law King of Naples; he imprisoned the King of Spain ; he banished the Regent of Portugal, and formed his plan to take possession of the crown of England. England had checked his designs ; her trident had stirred tip his empire from its foundation; he complained of her tyranny at sea ; but it was her power at sea which arrested his tyranny on land the navy of England saved Europe. Knowing this, he knew the conquest of England became ne- cessary for the accomplishment of the conquest of Europe, and the destruction of her marine necessary for the conquest of England. Ac- cordingly, besides raising an army of 60,000 men for the invasion of England, he applied himself to the destruction of her commerce, the foun- dation of her naval power. In pursuit of this object, and on his plan of a western empire, he conceived, and in part executed, the design of consigning to plunder and destruction the vast regions of Russia ; he quits the genial clime of the temperate zone ; he bursts through the narrow limits of an immense empire ; he aban- dons comfort and security, and he hurries to the pole, to hazard them all, and with them the companions of his victories, and the fame and fruits of his crimes and his talents, on specu- lation of leaving in Europe, throughout the whole of its extent, no one free or independent nation. To oppose this huge conception of mischief and despotism, the great potentate of the north, from his gloomy recesses, advances to defend himself against the voracity of ambition amid the sterility of his empire. Ambition is omnivorous it feasts on famine and sheds tons of blood, that it may starve in ice, in order to commit a robbery on desolation. The power of the North, I say, joins another prince, whom Buonaparte had deprived of almost the whole of his authority, the King of Prussia, and then another potentate, whom Buonaparte had de- prived of the principal part of his dominions, the Emperor of Austria. These three powers, physical causes, final justice, the influence of your victories in Spain and Portugal, and the spirit given to Europe by the achievements and renown of your great commander (the Duke of Wellington), together with the preci- pitation of his own ambition, combine to accomplish his destruction. Buonaparte ia conquered. He who said : " I will be like the Most High : " he who smote the nations with a continual stroke this short-lived son of the morning, Lucifer, falls, and the Earth is at rest ; the phantom of royalty passes on to nothing, and the three kings to the gates of Paris ; there they stand, the late victims of his ambition, and now the disposers of his destiny and the masters of his empire ; without provo- cation he had gone to their countries with fire and sword ; with the greatest provocation they come to his country with life and liberty ; they do an act unparalleled in the annals of history, such as nor envy, nor time, nor malice, nor prejudice, nor ingratitude can efface ; they give to his subjects liberty, and to himself life and royalty. This is greater than conquest ! The present race must confess their virtues, and ages to come must crown their monuments, and place them above heroes and kings in glory everlasting. When Buonaparte states the conditions of the treaty of Fontainebleau are not performed, he forgets one of them, namely, the condition THE ORATOR. by which he lives. It is very true there was u mixture of policy and prudence in this measure ; but it was a great act of magnanimity notwith- standing, and it is not in Providence to turn such an act to your disadvantage. With respect to the other act, the mercy shown to his people, I have underrated it ; the allies did not give liberty to France, they enabled her to give a constitution to herself, a better constitu- tion than that which, with much laboriousness, and circumspection, and deliberation, and pro- crastination, the philosophers fabricated, when the Jacobins trampled down the flimsy work, murdered the vain philosophers, drove out the crazy reformers, and remained masters of the field in the triumph of superior anarchy and confusion; better than that, I say, which the Jacobin destroyed, better than that which he afterwards formed, with some method in his madness, and more madness in his method ; with such a horror of power, that in his plan of a constitution he left out a government, and with so many wheels that everything was in movement and nothing in concert, so that the machine took fire from its own velocity in the midst of death and mirth, with images emble- matic of the public disorder, goddesses of reason turned fool, and of liberty turned fury. At length the French found their advantage in adopting the sober and unaffected security of King, Lords, and Commons, on the idea of that form of government which your ancestors procured by their firmness, and maintained by their discretion. The people had attempted to give the French liberty, and had failed ; the wise men (so her philosophers called them- selves) had attempted to give liberty to France, and had failed ; it remained for the extra- ordinary destiny of the French to receive their free constitution from kings. This constitution Buonaparte has destroyed, together with the treaty of Fontainebleau, and having broken both, desires your confidence ; Russia confided, and was deceived; Austria confided, and was deceived. Have we forgotten the treaty of Luneville, and his abominable conduct to the Swiss ? Spain and other nations of Europe confided, and all were deceived. During the whole of this time he was charging on Eng- land the continuation of the war, while he was, with uniform and universal perfidy, breaking his own treaties of peace for the purpose of renewing the war, to end it in what was worse than war itself his conquest of Europe. But now he repents and will be faithful ! he says so, but he says the contrary also : " I pro- test against the validity of the treaty of Fontaineblean ; it was not done with the con- sent of the people ; I protest against everything done in my absence; see my speech to the army and people ; see the speech of my council to me." The treaty of Paris was done in his NO. XVIII. absence; by that treaty were returned the French colonies and prisoners : thus he takes life and empire from the treaty of Fontaine- bleau, with an original design to set it aside ; and he takes prisoners and colonies from the treaty of Paris, which he afterwards sets aside also ; and he musters an army, by a singular fatality, in a great measure composed of troops who owe their enlargement, and of a chief who owes his life, to the powers he fights, by the resources of France, who owes to those powers her salvation. He gives a reason for this : | " Nothing is good which was done without the i consent of the people" (having been deposed by ! that people, and elected by the army in their ': defiance). With such sentiments, which go ! not so much against this or that particular i treaty as against the principles of affiance, the i question is, whether, with a view to the secu- rity of Europe, you will take the faith of | Napoleon, or the army of your allies ? Gentlemen maintain, that we are not equal to the contest ; that is to say, confederated Europe cannot fight France single-handed. If that be your opinion, yoii are conquered this moment ; you are conquered in spirit : but that is not your opinion, nor was it the opinion of your ancestors. They thought, and I hope transmitted the sentiment as your birth-right, that the armies of these islands could always fight, and fight with success their own num- bers. See now the numbers yoiT are to com- mand : by this treaty you are to have in the field what may be reckoned not less than 600,000 men ; besides that stipulated army you have at command, what may be reckoned as much more, I say you and the allies. The ! Emperor of Austria alone has an army of ! 500,000 men, of which 120,000 were sent to Italy to oppose Murat, who is now beaten ; Aiistria is not, then, occupied by Murat ; Prussia is not occupied by the Saxon, nor Russia by the Pole, at least, not so occupied ! that they have not ample and redundant forces for this war ; you have a general never sur- ! passed, and allies in heart and confidence. I See now Buonaparte's muster : he has lost his external dominions, and is reduced from a population of 100,000,000, to a population of 25,000,000 ; besides, he has lost the power of fascination, for though he may be called the subverter of kings, he has not proved to be the redresser of grievances. Switzerland has not I forgotten, all Europe remembers the nature of | his reformation, and that the best reform he ! introduced was worse than the worst govern- j ment he subverted. As little can Spain or I Prussia forget what was worse even than his ! reformations, the march of his armies : it was i not an army ; it was a military government in ! march, like the Roman legions in Rome's worst ' time, Italica or Rapax, responsible to nothing, K 2 138 THE OKATOK. nor God, nor man. Thus he has administered a cure to his partisans for any enthusiasm that might have been .annexed to his name, and is now reduced to his resources at home ; it is at home that he must feed his armies and find his strength, and at home he wants artillery, he wants cavalry ; he has no money, he has no credit, he has no title. With respect to his Actual numbers, they are not ascertained, but it maybe collected that they bear no proportion to those of the allies. i But gentlemen presume that the French nation will rise in his favour as soon as we giiter their 'country. We entered their country before, but they did not rise in his favour ; on the contrary, they deposed him ; the article of deposition is given at length. It is said we endeavour to impose a government on France. The French armies elect a conqueror for Eu- rope, and our resistance to this conqueror is called imposing a government on France ; if we put down this chief, we relieve France a,s well as Europe from a foreign yoke, and this deliverance is called the imposition of a govern- ment on France. He he imposed a govern- ment on France ; he imposed a foreign yoke on France; he took from the French their pro- perty by contribution ; he took their children by conscription; he lost her empire, and a thing almost unimaginable, he brought the enemy to the gates of Paris. We, on the con- trary, formed a project, as appears from a paper of. 1805, which preserved the integrity of the ' French empire; the allies, in 1814, not only preserved the integrity of the empire as it stood in 1792, but gave her her liberty, and they now afford her the only chance of redemp- tion. Against these allies will France now combine, and having received from them her empire as it stood before the war, with addi- tions in consequence of their deposition of Buonaparte, and having gotten back her capital, her colonies, and her prisoners, will she bi-eak the treaty to which she owes them ; rise np against the allies who gave them ; break her oath of allegiance ; destroy the constitu- tion she has formed ; depose the King she has chosen ; rise up against her own deliverance, in support of contribution and conscription, to -perpetuate her political damnation under the -yoke of a stranger ? Gentlemen say France has elected him. They have no grounds for so saying; he had been repulsed at Antibes, and he lost thirty men : he landed near Cannes the 1st of March, with 1,100. With this force he proceeded to Grasse, Digne, Gap, ami on the 7th he entered Grenoble ; he there got from the dcr-evtion of regiments above 3,000 men and a park of artil- lery ; with this additional force he proceeded to Lyons ; he left Lyons with about 7,000 strong, and entered Paris on the 20th, with all the troops of the line that had been sent "to oppose him ; the following day he reviewed his troops ; and nothing could equal the shouts of the army except the silence of the people. This was, in the strictest sense of the word, a military elec- tion : it was an act where the army deposed the civil government; it was the march of a military chief over a conquered people. The nation did not rise to resist Buonaparte or to defend Louis, because the nation could not rise upon the army ; her mind as well as her constitution was conquered ; in fact, there was no nation ; everything was army, and every- thing was conquest. France had passed through all the degrees of political probation, revolution, counter-revolution, wild democracy, intense despotism, outrageous anarchy, philo- sophy, vanity, and madness ; and now she lay exhausted, for horse, foot, and dragoons to exercise her power, to appoint her a master captain or cornet who should put the brand of his name upon her government, calling it his dynasty, and under this stamp of dishonour pass her on to futurity. Buonaparte, it seems, is to reconcile every- thing by the gift of a free constitution. He took possession of Holland, he did not give her a free constitution ; he took possession of Spain, he did not give her a free constitution ; he took possession of Switzerland, whose independence he had guaranteed, he did not give her a free constitution ; he took possession of Italy, he did not give her a free constitution ; he took possession of France, he did not give her a free constitution ; on the contrary, he destroyed the directorial constitution, he destroyed the consular constitution, and he destroyed the late constitution formed on the plan of England ! But now he is, with the assistance of the Jacobins, to give her liberty ; that is, the man who can bear no freedom, unites to form a constitution with a body who can bear no government ! In the mean time, while he professes liberty, he exer- cises despotic power, he annihilates the nobles, he banishes the deputies of the people, and he sequesters the property of the emigrants. " Now he is to give liberty ! " I have seen his constitution, as exhibited in the newspaper; there are faults innumerable in the frame of it, and more in the manner of accepting it : it is to be passed by subscription without dis- cussion, the troops are to send deputies, and the army is to preside. There is some cun- ning, however, in making the subscribers to the constitution renounce the house of Bourbon ; they are to give their word for the deposition of the king, and take Napoleon's word for their own liberty ; the offer imports nothing which can IK? relied on, except that he is afraid of the allies. Disperse the alliance, and farewell to the liberty of France and the safety of Europe. THE OBATOK, 139 Under this head of ability to combat Bnoua- parte, I think we should not despair. With respect to the justice of the cause, we must observe, Buonaparte has broken the treaty of Fontainebleau ; he confesses it ; he declares he never considered himself as bound by it. If, then, that treaty is out of the way, he is as he was before it at war. As Emperor of the French, he has broken the treaty of Paris ; that treaty was founded on his abdication ; when he proposes to observe the treaty of Paris, he proposes what he cannot do unless he abdicates. The proposition that we should not inter- fere with the government of other nations is true, but true with qualifications. If the go- vernment of any other country contains an insurrectionary principle, as France did when she offered to aid the insurrections of her neigh- bours, your interference is warranted; if the government of another country contains the principle of universal empire, as France did, and promulgated, your interference is justifiable. Gentlemen may call this internal government, but I call this conspiracy ; if the government of another country maintains a predatory army, such as Buonaparte's, with a view to hostility and conquest, your interference is just. He may call this internal government, but I call this a preparation for war. No doubt he will accompany this with offers of peace ; but such offers of peace are nothing more than one of the arts of war, attended, most assuredly, by charging on you the odium of a long and pro- tracted contest, and with much common-place, and many good saws and sayings of the mi- series of bloodshed, and the savings and good husbandly of peace, and the comforts of a quiet life ; but if you listen to this, you will be much deceived ; not only deceived, but you will be beaten. Again, if the government of another coxintry covers more ground in Europe, and destroys the balance of power, so as to threaten the independence of other nations, this! is a cause of your interference. Such was the principle upon which we acted in the best times ; such was the principle of the grand alliance ; such the triple alliance ; and such the quadruple ; and by such principles has Europe not only been regulated, but protected. If a foreign government does any of those acts I have mentioned, we have a cause of war ; but if a foreign power does all of them, forms a conspiracy for universal empire, keeps tip an army for that purpose, employs that army to overturn the balance of power, and attempts the conquest of Europe attempts, do I say ? in a great degree achieves it (for what else was Buonaparte's dominion before the battle of Leipsic P), and then receives an overthrow, owes its deliverance to treaties which give that power ita life, and these countries their security (for what did you get from France but secu- rity?); if this power, I say, avails itself of the conditions in the treaties which give it colonies, prisoners, and deliverance, and breaks those conditions which give you security, and resumes the same situation which renders this power capable of repeating the same atrocity, has England, or has she not, a right of war ? Having considered the two questions, that of ability, and that of right, and having shown that you are justified on either consideration to go to war, let me now suppose that you treat for peace. First, you will have a peace upon a, war establishment, and then a war without your present allies. It is not certain that you, will have any of them, but it is certain that you will not have the same combination while Buonaparte increases his power by confirmatie* of his title and by further preparation ; so that you will have a bad peace and a bad war. Were I disposed to treat for peace, I would not agree 'to the amendment, because it disperses your allies and strengthens your enemy, and says to both, we will quit our alliance to con- firm Napoleon on the throne of France, that he may hereafter more advantageously fight tis, as he did before, for the throne of England. Gentlemen set forth the pretensions of Buo- naparte ; gentlemen say that he has given liberty to the press. He has given liberty to publication, to be afterwards tried and punished according to the present constitution of France as a military chief pleases ; that is to say, he has given liberty to the French to hang themselves. Gentlemen say, he has in liis dominions abolished the slave trade. I am unwilling to deny him praise for such an act ; but if we praise him for giving liberty to the African, let us not assist him in imposing slavery on the European. Gentlemen say, Will you make war upon character ? But the ques- tion is, will you trust a government without one ? What will you do if you are conquered? say gentlemen. I answer, the very thing you must do if you treat, abandon the Low Coun- tries. But the question is, in which case are you most likely to be conquered with allies or without them ? Either you must abandon the Low Countries, or you must preserve them by arms ; for Buonaparte will not be withheld by treaty. If you abandon them, you will lose your situation on the globe ; and instead of being a medium of communication and com- merce between the new world and the old, you will become an anxious station between two fires the continent of America, rendered hos- tile by the intrigues of France ; and the conti- nent of Europe, possessed by her arms. It then remains for you to determine, if you do not abandon the Low Countries, in what way you mean to defend them, alone or with allies. / Gentlemen complain of the allies, and say, 140 THE ORATOB. they have partitioned such a country, and transferred such a country, and seized on such a country. What ! will they quarrel with their [ ally, who has possessed himself of a part of Saxony, and shake hands with Buonaparte, who proposed to take possession of England ? If a prince takes Venice, we are indignant ; but if he seizes on a great part of Europe, stands covered with the blood of millions, and the spoils of half mankind, our indignation ceases ; vice becomes gigantic, conquers the understanding, and mankind begin by wonder, j and conclude by worship. The character of i Buonaparte is admirably calculated for this ; effect ; he invests himself with much theatrical grandeur ; he is a great actor in the tragedy of his own government ; the fire of his genius precipitates on universal empire, certain to destroy his neighbours or himself; better formed to acquire empire than to keep it, he is a hero and a calamity, forfncd to punish France and , to perplex Europe/ The authority f of Mr. Fox has been alluded j t6, a great authority and a great man ; his name excites tenderness and wonder ; to do justice to that immortal person you must not j limit your view to this country ; his genius was | not confined to England, it aeted three hun- dred miles off in breaking the chains of Ireland; i it was seen three thousand miles off in commu- nicating freedom to the Americans ; it was j visible, I know not how far ofF, in ameliorating the condition of the Indian ; it was discernible on the coast of Africa in accomplishing the , abolition of the slave trade. You are to mea- | sure the magnitude of his mind by parallels of i latitude. His heart was as soft as that of a woman; his intellect was adamant; his weak- nesses were virtues ; they protected him against i the hard habit of a politician, and assisted nature to make him amiable and interesting, i The question discussed by Mr. Fox in 1792, was, whether you would treat with a revolu- tionary government ? The present is, whether you will confirm a military and a hostile one ? . You will observe that when Mr. Fox was willing to treat, the French, it was understood, were ready to evacuate the Low Countries. If you confirm the present government, you must expect to lose them. Mr. Fox objected to the idea of driving France upon her resources, lest you should make her a military govern- ment. The question now is, whether you will ' make that military government perpetual. I therefore do not think the theory of Mr. Fox can be quoted against us ; and the practice of Mr. Fox tends to establish our proposition, for he treated with Buonaparte and failed. Mr. Fox was tenacious of England, and would never yield an iota of her superiority ; but the j failure of the attempt to treat was to bo found, not in Mr. Fox, but in Buonaparte. On the French subject, speaking of autho- rity, we cannot forget Mr. Burke Mr. Burke, the prodigy of nature and acquisition. He read everything, he saw everything, he foresaw everything. His knowledge of history amounted to a power of foretelling; and when he per- ceived the wild work that was doing in France, that great political physician, intelligent of symptoms, distinguished between the access of fever and the force of health ; and what other men conceived to be the vigour of her consti- tution, he knew to be no more than the paroxysm of her madness, and then, prophet- like, he pronounced the destinies of France, and, in his prophetic fury, admonished nations. Gentlemen speak of the Bourbon family. I have already said, we should not force the Bourbon upon France ; but we owe it to de- parted (I would rather say to interrupted) greatness, to observe, that the House of Bourbon was not tyrannical ; under her, everything, except the administration of the country, was open to animadversion ; every subject was open to discussion philosophical, ecclesiastical, and political, so that learning, and arts, and sciences, made progress. Even England consented to borrow not a little from the temperate meridian of that government. Her court stood con- trolled by opinion, limited by principles of honour, and softened by the influence of man- ners : and, on the whole, there was an amenity in the condition of France, which rendered the French an amiable, an enlightened, a gallant, and an accomplished race. Over this gallant race you see imposed an Oriental despotism. Their present court (Buonaparte's court) has gotten the idiom of the East as well as her constitution ; a fantastic and barbaric expres- sion : an unreality, which leaves in the shade the modesty of truth, and states nothing as it is, and everything as it is not. The attitude is affected, the taste is corrupted, and the intellect perverted. Do you wish to confirm this military tyranny in the heart of Europe ? A tyranny founded on the triumph of the army over the principles of civil government, tending to universalize throughout Europe the domination of the sword, and to reduce to paper and parchment, Magna Charta and all our civil institutions. An experiment such as no country ever made, and no good country would ever permit ; to relax the moral and religious influences ; to set Heaven and Earth adrift from one another, and make God Al- mighty a tolerated alien in His own creation ; an insurrectionary hope to cveiy bad man in the community, and a frightful lesson to profit and power, vested in those who have pandered their allegiance from king to emperor, and now found their pretensions to domination on the merit of breaking their oaths and deposing their sovereign. Should you do anything so THE OEATOK. 141 monstrous as to leave your allies in order to confirm such a system ; should you forget your name, forget your ancestors, and the inheritance they have left you of morality and renown ; should you astonish Europe, by quitting your allies to render immortal such a composition, would not the nations exclaim, " You have very providently watched over our interests, and very generously have you contributed to our service, and do you falter now ? In vain have you stopped in your own person the flying for- tunes of Europe ; in vain have you taken the eagle of Napoleon, and snatched invin- cibility from his standard, if now, when confederated Europe is ready to march, you take the lead in the desertion, and preach the penitence of Buonaparte and the poverty of England ? " As to her poverty, you must not consider the money you spend in your defence, but the fortune you would lose if you were not de- fended ; and further, you must recollect you will pay less to an immediate war than to a peace with a war establishment, and a war to follow it. Recollect further, that whatever be your resources, they must outlast those of all your enemies ; and further, that your empire cannot be saved by a calculation. Besides, your wealth is only a part of your situation. The name you have established, the deeds you have achieved, and the part you have sus- tained, preclude you from a second place among nations ; and when you cease to be the first you are nothing. EDMUND BURKE. THE DUTY OF REPRESENTATIVES. IT ought to be the happiness and glory of a representative to live in the strictest union, the closest correspondence, and the most unreserved communication with his con- stituents. Their wishes ought to have great weight with him ; their opinion high respect ; their business unremitted attention. It is his duty to sacrifice his repose, his pleasures, his satisfactions, to theirs ; and above all, ever and in all cases, to prefer their interest to his own. But, his unbiassed opinion, his mature judg- ment, his enlightened conscience, he ought not to sacrifice to you, to any man, or to any set of men living. These he does not derive from your pleasure ; no, nor from the law and the constitution. They are a trust from Provi- dence, for the abuse of which he is deeply answerable. Your representative owes you, not his industry only, but his judgment ; and he betrays, instead of serving you, if he sacrifices it to your opinion. WENDELL PHILLIPS. Living. [Tun name of Wendell Phillips, together with that of his friend and fellow-labourer, W. Lloyd Garrison, has been for many years past associated with the Abo- lition Cause in America, of which he has ever been the most eloquent champion. His style, though not such as we are much accustomed to in this country, as will be seen from the address which we quote, is grand and glowing, and in every way admirably suited to the large assem- blies which his name and reputation can at any moment call together. The speech which follows was delivered on the 28th January, 1852, before the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, and though somewhat tinctured by the special politics of its time, has sufficient of general interest both in its theme and the treatment of it, to make it appreciable by all English readers.] PUBLIC OPINION ON THE ABOLITION QUESTION. MR. PRESIDENT : I have been thinking, while sitting here, of the different situa- tions of the Anti-slavery cause now and one year ago, when the last anniversary of this society was held. To some, it may seem that we had more sources of interest and of public excitement on that occasion than we have now. I We had with us, during a portion, at least, of I that session, the eloquent advocate of our cause on the other side of the water. We had the local excitement and the deep interest which i the first horror of the Fugitive Slave Bill had j aroused. We had, I believe, some fugitives, ; just arrived from the house of bondage. It may seem to many that, meeting as we do to-day : robbed of all these, we must be content with a > session more monotonous and less effectual in arousing the community. But when we look over the whole land ; when we look back upon what has taken place in our own Common- wealth, at Christiana, at Syracuse ; look at the passage through the country of the great Hun- garian ; at the present state of the public mind it seems to me that no year, during the existence of the society, has presented more encouraging aspects to the Abolitionists. The views which our friend (Parker Pillsbury) has' just presented, are those upon which, in our most sober calculation, we ought to rely. Give us time, and, as he said, talk is all-powerful. We are apt to feel ourselves over-shadowed in the presence of colossal institutions. Wo are apt, in coming up to a meeting of this kind, to ask what a few hundred or a few > thousand persons can do against the weight of government, the mountainous odds of majorities, the influence of the press, the power of the pulpit, the organization of parties, the omni- potence of wealth. At times, to carry a favourite purpose, leading statesmen have en- deavoured to cajole the people into the idea that this age was like the past, and that a " rub- a-dub agitation," as ours is contemptuously styled, was only to be despised. The time has been when, f^kf'our friend observed, from the 142 THE ORATOR. steps of the Eevere House yes, and from the depots of New York railroads Mr. Webster has described this Anti-slavery movement as a succession of lectures in schoolhouses the mere efforts of a few hundred men and women to talk together, excite each other, arouse the public, and its only result a little noise. He knew better. He knew better the times in which he lived. No matter where you meet a dozen earnest men pledged to a new idea wherever you have met them, you have met the beginning of a revolution. Revolutions are not made : they come. A revolution is as natural a growth as an oak. It comes out of the past. Its foundations are laid far back. The child feels ; he grows into a man, and thinks ; another, perhaps, speaks, and the world acts out the thought. And this is the history of modern society. Men undervalue the Anti-slavery movement, because they imagine you can al- ways put your finger on some illustrious moment in history, and say, here commenced the great change which lias come over the nation. Not so. The beginning of great changes is like the rise of the Mississippi. A child must stoop and gather away the pebbles to find it. But soon it swells broader and broader, bears on its ample bosom the navies of a mighty republic, fills the Gulf, and divides a Continent.^ I remember a story of Napoleon winch illus- trates my meaning. We are apt to trace his control of France to some noted victory, to the time when he camped in the Tuileries, or when he dissolved the Assembly by the stamp of his foot. He reigned, in fact, when his hand was first felt on the helm of the vessel of state, and that was far. back of the time when he had conquered in Italy, or his name had been echoed over two continents. It was on the day when five hundred irresolute men were met in that Assembly -which called itself, and pretended to be, the government of France. They heard that the mob of Paris was coming the next morning, thirty thousand strong, to turn them, as was usual in those days, out of doors. And where did this seemingly great power go for its support and refuge P They sent Tallien to seek out a boy lieutenant the shadow of an officer so thin and pallid, that, when he was placed on the stand before them, the President of the Assembly, fearful, if the fate of France rested on the shrunken form, the ashy cheek before him, that all hope was gone, asked, "Young man, can you protect the Assembly P" And the stern lips of the Corsican boy parted only to reply, "I always do what I undertake." Then and there Napoleon ascended his throne ; and the next day, from the steps of St. Roche, thundered forth the cannon which taught the mob of Paris, for the first time, that it had a master. That was the commencement of the Empire. So the Anti-slavery movement com- menced unheeded in that " obscure hole " which Mayor Otis could not find, occupied by a printer and a black boy. In working these great changes, in such an age as ours, the so-called statesman has far less influence than the many little men who, at various points, are silently maturing a regene- ration of public opinion. This is a reading and thinking age, and great interests at stake quicken the general intellect. Stagnant times have been when a great mind, anchored in error, might snag the slow-moving current of society. Such is not our era. Nothing but Freedom, Justice, and Truth is of any permanent advantage to the mass of mankind. To these society, left to itself, is always tending. In our day, great questions about them have called forth all the energies of the common mind. Error suffers sad treatment in the shock of eager intellects. "TSverybody," said Talleyrand, " is cleverer than anybody ;" and any name, however illustrious, which links itself to abuses, is sure to be overwhelmed by the impetuous current of that society which (thanks to the press and a reading public) ij, potent, always, < to clear its own channel^Xahanks to the Printing-Press, the people now do their own thinking, and statesmen, as they are styled men in office have ceased to be either the leaders or the clogs of society. *~ This view is one that Mr. "Webster ridiculed in the depots of New York. The time has come when he is obliged to change his tone ; when he is obliged to retrace his steps to acknow- ledge the nature and the character of the age in which he lives. Kossuth comes to this coun- try, penniless, and an exile ; conquered on his own soil ; flung out as a weed upon the waters ; nothing but his voice left; and the Secretary of State must meet him. Now, let us see what he says of his " rub-a-dub agitation," which consists of the voice only of the tongue, which our friend Pillsbury has described. This is that " tongue " which the impudent statesman de- clared, from the drunken steps of the Revere House, ought to be silenced this tongue which was a " rub-a-dub agitation " to be despised, when he spoke to the farmers of New York. / He says, " We are too much inclined to underrate the power of moral influence." Who is ? Nobody but a Revere House statesman. " We are too much inclined to underrate the power of moral influence, and the influence of public opinion, and the influence of the prin- ciples to which great men the lights of the world and of the present age have given their sanction. Who doubts that, in our straggle for liberty and independence, the majestic eloquence of Chatham, the profound reasoning of Burke, the burning satire and irony of Colonel Barre, had influences upon our fortunes here in America? They had influences both THE ORATOR, ! ways. They tended, in tlie iirst place, some- what to diminish, the confidence of the British ministry in their hopes of success, in attempting to subjugate an injured people. They had influence another way, because all along the coasts of the country and all our people in that day lived upon the coast there was not a reading man who did not feel stronger, bolder, and more determined in the assertion of his rights, when these exhilarating accents from the two Houses of Parliament reached him from beyond the seas." "I thank thee, Jew!'' This "rub-a-dub agitation," then, has influence both ways. It diminishes the confidence of the Administration in its power to execute the Fugitive Slave Law, which it has imposed so insolently on the people. It acts on the reading men of the nation, and in that single fact is the whole story of the change. Wherever you have a reading people, there eveiy tongue, every press, is a power. Mr. Webster, when he ridiculed in New York the agitation of the Anti-slavery body, supposed he was living in the old feudal times, when a statesman was an integral element in the state, an essential power in himself. He must have supposed himself speaking in those ages when a great man outweighed the masses. He finds now that he is living much later, in an age when the accumulated common-sense of the people outweighs the greatest statesman or the most influential individual. Let me illustrate the difference of our times and the past in this matter, by their difference in another respect. e time has been when men cased in iron from head to foot, and disciplined by long years of careful instruction, went to battle. Those were the days of nobles and knights ; and in such times, ten knights, clad in steel, feared not a whole field of unarmed peasantiy, and a hundred men-at-arms have conquered thousands of the common people, or held them at bay. Those were the times when Winkelried, the Swiss patriot, led his host against the Austrian phalanx, and finding it impenetrable to the thousands of Swiss who threw themselves on the serried lances, gathered a dozen in his amis, and, drawing them together, made thus an opening in the close-set ranks of the Austrians, and they were overborne by the actual mass of numbers. Gunpowder came, and then any finger that could pull a trigger was equal to the highest born and the best disciplined ; knightly armour, and horses clad in steel, went to the ground before the courage and strength which dwelt in the arm of the peasant, as well as that of the prince. What gunpowder did for war, the printing-press has done for the mind, and the statesman is no longer clad in the steel of special education, but every reading man is his judge. Every thoughtful man, the country throiigh, who makes up an opinion, is his jury, to which ho ans \vcrs, and. the tribunal to which he must bow. Mr. Webster, therefore, does not overrate the power of this " rub-a-dub agitation," which Kossuth has now adopted, " stealing our thunder." He does not overrate the power of this " rnb-a-dnb agitation," when he says, " Another great mistake, gentlemen, is some- times made. [Yes, in Bowdoin Square !] We think nothing powerful enough to stand before despotic power. There is something strong enough, quite strong enough ; and if properly exerted, it will prove itself so ; and that is the power of intelligent public opinion." " I thank thee, Jew ! " That opinion is formed, not only in Congress, or on hotel steps ; it is made also in the school-houses, in the town-houses, at the hearth-stones, in the railroad-cars, on board the steamboats, in the social circle, in these anti-slavery gatherings which he despises. Mark you : there is nothing powerful enough to stand before it ! It may be a self-styled divine insti- tution ; it may be the bank-vaults of New England ; it may be the mining interests of Pennsylvania ; it may be the Harwich fisher- \ men, whom he told to stand by the Union, be- . cause its bunting protected their decks ; it may be the factory operative, whom he told to uphold the Union, because it made his cloth sell for half a cent more a yard ; it may be a parch- ment Constitution, or even a Fugitive Slave Bill, signed by Millard Fillmore ! ! ! no matter, all are dust on the threshing-floor of a reading public, once roused to indignation. Remember this, when you would look down upon a meeting of a few hundreds in the one scale, and the fanatic violence of State Street in the other, that there' is NOTHING, Daniel Webster being witness, strong enough to stand against public opinion and if the tongue and the press are not parents of that, what is P Napoleon said, " I fear three newspapers more than a hundred thousand bayonets.'' Mr. Webster now is of the same opinion. " There is not a monarch on earth," he says, " whose throne is not liable to be shaken by the progress of opinion and the sentiment of the just and intelligent part of the people." " I thank thee, Jew ! " We have been told often, that it was nothing but a morbid sentiment that was opposed to the Fugitive Slave Bill it was a sentiment of morbid philanthropy. Grant it all. But take care, Mr. Statesman; cure or change it in time, else it will beat all your dead institutions to dust. Hearts and sentiments are alive, and we all know that the gentlest of Nature's growths or motions will, in time, burst asunder or wear away the proudest dead-weight man can heap upon them. If this be the power of the gentlest growth, let the stoutest heart tremble before the tornado of a people roused to terrible vengeance by the eight of long years of cowardly and merciless oppression, and oft- THE ORATOR. repeated instances of selfish and calculating apostasy. You may build your Capitol of granite, and pile it high as the Rocky Moun- tains; if it is founded on or mixed up with iniquity, the pulse of a girl will in time beat it down. " There is no monarch on earth whose throne is not liable to be shaken by the senti- ment of the just and intelligent part of the people." What is this but a recantation doing penance for the impudence uttered in Bowdoin Square ? Surely this is the white sheet and lighted torch which the Scotch Church imposed as penance on its erring members. Who would imagine that the same man who said of the public discussion of the slavery question, that it must be put down, could have dictated this sentiment " It becomes us, in the station which we hold, to let that public opinion, so far as we form it, have free course " ? What was the haughty threat we heard from Bowdoin Square a year ago ? " This agitation must be put down." Now, " It becomes us, in the station which we hold, to let that public opinion have free course." Behold the great doughface cringing before the calm eye of Kossuth, who had nothing but " rub-a-dub agitation " with which to rescue Hungary from the bloody talons of the Austrian eagle ! This is statesmanship ! The statesmanship that says to the Commonwealth of Massa- chusetts to-day, "Smother those prejudices," and to-niorrow, "There is no throne on the broad earth strong enough to stand up against the sentiment of justice."- What is that but the " pi'ejudices " of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts against man -hunting ? And this is the man before whom the press and the pulpit of the country would have had the Abolitionists bow their heads, and lay their mouths in the dust, instead of holding fast to the eternal principles of justice and right ! It would be idle, to be sure, to base any argument on an opinion of Mr. Webster's. Like the chameleon, he takes his hue, on these subjects, from the air he breathes. He has his " October sun " opinion, and his Faneuil Hall opinions. But the recantation here is at least noticeable ; and his testimony to the power of the masses is more valuable as coming from an unwilling witness. The best of us are conscious of being, at times, somewhat awed by the colossal institutions about us, which seem to be opposing our progress. There are those who occasionally weary of this moral suasion, and sigh for something tangible ; some power that they can feel, and see its operation. The ad- vancing tide you cannot mark. The gem forms unseen. The granite increases and crumbles, and you can hardly mark either process. The great change in a nation's opinion is the same. We stand here to-day, and if we look back twenty years, we can see a change in public opinion ; yes, we can see a great change. Then the great statesmen had pledged them- selves not to talk on this subject. They have been made to talk. These hounds have been whipped into the traces of the nation's car, not by three newspapers, which Napoleon dreaded, but by one. The great parties of the country have been broken to pieces and crumbled. The great sects have been broken to pieces. Sup- pose you cannot put yotir finger upon an individual fact ; still, in the great result, you see what Webster tells us in his speech : " De- pend upon it, gentlemen, that between these two rival powers the autocratic power, main- tained by arms and force, and the popular power, maintained by opinion the former is constantly decreasing ! and, thank God ! the latter is constantly increasing. Real Imman liberty is gaining the ascendant;- [he must feel sad at that ! J and the part which we have to act in all this great drama is to show ourselves in favour of those rights ; to uphold our ascendancy, and to cany it on, until we shall see it culminate in the highest heaven over our heads." Now I look upon this speech as the most remarkable Mr. Webster has ever made on the anti-slavery agitation to which we are devoted as a most remai-kable confession, under the circumstances. I read it here and to you, because, in the circle I see around me, the larger proportion are Abolitionists men at- tached to the movement which this meeting represents men whose thoughts are occasion- ally occupied with the causes and with the effects of its real progress. I would force from the reluctant lips of the Secretary of State his testimony to the real power of the masses. I said that the day was, before gunpowder, when the noble, clad in steel, was a match for a thousand. Gunpowder levelled peasant and prince. The printing-press has done the same. In the midst of thinking people, in the long run, there are no so-called " great " men. The accunmlated intellect of the masses is greater I than the heaviest brain God ever gave to a i single man. Webster, though he may gather ! into his own person the confidence of parties, I and the attachment of thousands throughout ' the country, is but a feather's weight in the balance against the average of public sentiment on the subject of slavery. A newspaper para- graph, a county meeting, a gathering for con- versation, a change in the character of a dozen individuals these are the several fountains and soiircc;; of public opinion. And, friends, when we gather, month after month, at such meetings as these, we should encoiirage our- selves with considerations of this kind : that we live in an age of democratic equality ; that, for a moment, a pai-ty may stand against the age, biat in Ihe end it goes by the board; that THE ORATOR. 145 the man who launches a sound argument, who sets on two feet a startling fact, and bids it travel from Maine to Georgia, is just as certain that in the end he will change the government, as if, to destroy the Capitol, he had placed gunpowder under the Senate-chamber. Natural philosophers tell us, that if you will only multiply the simplest force into enough time, it will equal the greatest. So it is with the slow intellectual movement of the masses. It can scarcely be seen, but it is a constant move- ment : it is the shadow on the dial ; never still, though never seen to move ; it is the tide, it is the ocean, gaining on the proudest and strong- est bulwarks that human art or strength can build. It may be defied for a moment, but in the end Nature always triumphs. So the race, if it cannot drag a Webster along with it, leaves him behind and forgets him. The race is rich enough to afford to do without the greatest intellects God ever let the Devil buy. Stranded along the past, there are a great many dried mummies of dead intellects, which the race found too heavy to drag forward. ' I hail the almighty power of the tongue. I ! swear allegiance to the omnipotence of the press. The people never err. " Vox populi, vox Dei " the voice of the people is the voice of God. I do not mean this of any single verdict which the people of to-day may record. In time, the selfishness of one class neutralizes the selfishness of another. The interests of one age clash against the interests of another ; but in the great result the race always means right. The people always mean right, and in the end they will have the right. I believe in the twenty millions not the twenty millions that live now, necessarily to arrange this question of slavery, which priests and politicians have sought to keep out of sight. They have kept it locked up in the Senate-chamber, they have hidden it behind the communion-table, they have appealed to the superstitious and idolatrous veneration for the State and the Union to avoid this question, and so have kept it from the influence of the great democratic tendencies of the masses. But change all this, drag it from its concealment, and give it to the people ; launch it on the age, and all is safe. It will find a safe harbour. A man is always selfish enough for himself. The soldier will be selfish enough for himself ; the merchant will be selfish enough for himself; yes, he will be willing to go to hell to secure his own fortune, but he will not be ready to go there to make the fortune of his neighbour. Rarely is any man willing to sacrifice his own cha- racter for the benefit of his neighbour; and whenever we shall be able to show this nation that the interests of a class, not of the whole, the interests of a portion of the country, not of the masses, are subserved by holding our NO. XIX. fellow-men in bondage, then we shall spike the guns of the enemy, or get their artillery on our side. I want you to turn your eyes from institu- tions to men. The diSftculty of the present day and with us, is, we are bullied by institutions. A man gets up in the pulpit, or sits on the bench, and we allow ourselves to be bullied by the judge or the clergyman, when, if he stood side by side with us, on the brick pavement, as a simple individual, his ideas would not have disturbed our clear thoughts an hour. Now the duty of each anti-slavery man is simply this Stand on the pedestal of your own indi- vidual independence, summon these institutions about you, and judge them. The question is deep enough to require this judgment of you. This is what the cause asks of you, my friends ; and the moment you shall be willing to do this, to rely upon yourselves, that moment the truths I have read from the lips of one whom the country regards as its greatest statesman, will shine over your path, assuring you that out of this agitation, as sure as the sun shines at noonday, the future character of the American government will be formed. If we lived in England, if we lived in France, the philosophy of our movement might be dif- ferent, for there stand accumulated wealth, hungry churches, and old nobles a class which popular agitation but slowly affects. To these public opinion is obliged to bow. We have seen, for instance, the agitation of 1848 in Europe, deep as it was, seemingly triumphant as it was for six months, retire, beaten, before the undis- turbed foundations of the governments of the Continent. You recollect, no doubt, the tide of popular enthusiasm which rolled from the Bay of Biscay to the very feet of the Czar, and it seemed as if Europe was melted into one republic. Men thought the new generation had indeed come. We waited twelve months, and " the turrets and towers of old institutions the church, law, nobility, government re- appeared above the subsiding wave." Now there are no such institutions here ; no law that can abide one moment when popular opinion de- mands its abrogation. The government is wrecked the moment the newspapers decree it. The penny papers of this State in the Sims case did more to dictate the decision of Chief Justice Shaw, than the Legislature that sat in the State House, or the statute-book of Massa- chusetts. I mean what I say. The penny papers of New York do more to govern this country than the White House at Washington. Mr. Webster says we live under a government of laws. He was never more mistaken, even when he thought the anti-slavery agitation could be stopped. We live under a government of men and morning newspapers. Bennett and Horace Greeley are more really Presidents 146 THE ORATOR, of the United States than Millard Fillmore. Daniel Webster himself cannot even get a nomination. Why ? Because, long ago, the ebbing tide of public opinion left him a wreck, stranded on the side of the popular current. We live under a government of men. The Constitution is nothing in South Carolina, but the black law is everything. The law that says the coloured man shall sit in the jury-box in the city of Boston is nothing. Why? Because the Mayor and Aldermen, and the Selectmen of Boston, for the last fifty years, have been such slaves of colorphobia, that they did not choose to execute this law of the Com- monwealth. I might go through the statute- book, and show you the same result. Now if this be true against us, it is tme for us. Re- member, that the penny papers may be starved into anti-slavery, whenever we shall put behind them an anti-slavery public sentiment. Wilber- force and Clarkson had to vanquish the moneyed power of England, the West-India interest, and overawe the peerage of Great Britain, before they conquered. The settled purpose of the great middle class had to wait till all this was accomplished. The moment we have the control of public opinion the women and the children, the school-houses, the school-books, the literature, and the newspapers that mo- ment we have settled the question. Men blarne us for the bitterness of our lan- guage and the personality of our attacks. It results from our position. The great mass of the people can never be made to stay and argue a long question. They must be made to feel it, through the hides of their idols. When you have launched your spear into the rhino- ceros hide of a Webster or a Benton, every Whig and Democrat feels it. It is on this principle that every reform must take for its text the mistakes of great men. God gives us great scoundrels for texts to anti-slavery ser- mons. See to it, when Nature has provided you a monster like Webster, that you exhibit him himself a whole menagerie throughout I the country. It is not often, in the wide ( world's history, that you see a man so lavishly , ; gifted by nature, and called, in the concurrence i of events, to a position like that which he occu- pied on the 7th of March, surrender his great power, and quench the high hopes of his race. No man, since the age of Luther, has ever held in his hand, so palpably, the destinies and cha- racter of a mighty people. He stood like the Hebrew prophet betwixt the living and the dead. He had but to have upheld the cross of com- \ mon truth and honesty, and the black dis- honour of two hundred years would have been effaced for ever. He bowed his vassal head to the temptations of the flesh and of lucre. He gave himself up into the lap of the Delilah of : slavery, for the mere promise of a nomination, and the greatest hour of the age was bartered away, not for a mess of pottage, but for the promise of a mess of pottage, a promise, thank God ! which is to be broken. I say it is not often that Providence permits the eyes of twenty millions of thinking people to behold the fall of another Lucifer, from the very battle- ments of Heaven, down into that "lower deep of the lowest deep " of hell. On such a text, how effective should be the sermon ! Let us see to it, that, in spite of the tender- ness of American prejudice, in spite of the morbid charity that would have us rebuke the sin, but spare the sinner, in spite of this effe- minate Christianity, that would let millions pine, lest one man's feelings be injured, let us see to it, friends, that we be " harsh as truth and uncompromising as justice;" remembering always, that every single man set against this evil may be another Moses, every single thought you launch may be the thunders of another Napoleon from the steps of another St. Roche ; remembering that we live not in an age of individual despotism, when a Charles the Fifth could set up or put down the slave-trade, but surrounded by twenty millions, whose opinion is omnipotent, that the hundred gathered in a New England school-house may be the hun- dred who shall teach the rising men of the other half of the continent, and stereotype Freedom on the banks of the Pacific ; remem- bering and worshipping reverentially the great American idea of the omnipotence of " thinking men," of the " sentiment of justice," against which no throne is potent enough to stand, no Constitution sacred enough to endure. Remem- ber this, when you go to an antislavery gather- ing in a school-house, and know that, weighed against its solemn purpose, its terrible resolu- tion, its earnest thought, Webster himself, and all huckstering statesmen, in the opposite scale, shall kick the beam. Worshipping the tongue, let us be willing, at all times, to be known throughout the community as the all-talk party. The age of bullets is over. The age of men armed in mail is over. The age of thrones has gone by. The age of statesmen God be praised ! such statesmen is over. The age of thinking men has come. With the aid of God, then, every man I can reach I will set thinking on the subject of slavery. The age of reading men has come. I will try to imbue eveiy newspaper with Garrisonianism. The age of the masses has come. Now, Daniel Webster counts one. Give him joy of it ! but the " rub-a-dub agitation " counts at least twenty, nineteen better. Nineteen, whom no chance of nomination tempts to a change of opinions once a twelvemonth ; who need no Kossuth advent to recall them to their senses. What I want to impress you with is, the great weight that is attached to the opinion of THE ORATOR. everything that can call itself a man. Give me anything that walks erect, and can read, and he shall count one in the millions of the Lord's sacramental host, which is yet to come up and trample all oppression in the dust. The weeds poured forth in nature's lavish luxu- riance, give them but time, and their tiny roots shall rend asunder the foundations of palaces, and crumble the Pyramids to the earth. We may be weeds in comparison with these marked men ; but in the lavish luxuriance of that nature which has at least allowed us to be " thinking, reading men," I learn, Webster being my witness, that there is no throne potent enough to stand against us. It is morbid enthusiasm this that I have. Grant it. But they tell us that this heart of mine, which beats so unintermittedly in the bosom, if its force could be directed against a granite pillar, would wear it to dust in the course of a man's life. Your Capitol, Daniel Webster, is marble, but the pulse of every humane man is beating against it. God will give us time, and the pulses of men shall beat it down. Take the mines, take the Harwich fishing-skiffs, take the Lowell mills, take all the coin and the cotton, still the day must be ours, thank God, for the hearts the hearts are on our side ! There is nothing stronger than human pre- judice. A crazy sentimentalism like that of Peter the Hermit hurlad half of Europe upon Asia, and changed the destinies of kingdoms. We may be crazy. Would to God he would make us all crazy enough to forget for one moment the cold deductions of intellect, and let these hearts of ours beat, beat, beat, under the promptings of a common humanity ! They have put wickedness into the statute-book, and its destruction is just as certain as if they had put gunpowder under the Capitol. That is my faith. That it is which turns my eye from the ten thousand newspapers, from the forty thousand pulpits, from the millions of Whigs, from the millions of Democrats, from the might of sect, from the marble government, from the iron army, from the navy riding at anchor, from all that we are accustomed to deem great and potent, turns it back to the simplest child or woman, to the first murmured protest that is heard against bad laws. I recognize in it the great future, the first rum- blings of that volcano destined to overthrow these mighty preparations, and bury in the hot lava of its full excitement all this laughing prosperity which now rests so secure on its side. All hail, Public Opinion ! To be sure, it is a dangerous thing under which to live. It rules to-day in the desire to obey all kinds of laws, and takes your life. It rules again in the love of liberty, and rescues Shadrach from Boston Court-House. It rules to-morrow in the manhood of him who loads the musket to shoot down God be praised ! the man-hunter, Gorsuch. It rules in Syracuse, and the slave escapes to Canada. It is our interest to edu- cate this people in humanity, and in deep reverence for the rights of the lowest and hum- blest individual that makes up our numbers. Each man here, in fact, holds his property and his life dependent on the constant presence of an agitation like this of anti-slavery. Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty : power is ever stealing from the many to the few. The manna of popular liberty must be gathered each day, or it is rotten. The living sap of to-day out- grows the dead rind of yesterday. The hand intrusted with power becomes, either from human depravity or esprit de corps, the neces- sary enemy of the people. Only by continual oversight can the democrat in office be pre- vented from hardening into a despot : only by unintermitted agitation can a people be kept sufficiently awake to principle not to let liberty be smothered in material prosperity. All clouds, it is said, have sunshine behind them, and all evils have some good result ; so slavery, by the necessity of its abolition, has saved the freedom of the white race from being melted in the luxury or biiried beneath the gold of its own success. Never look, therefore, for an age when the people can be quiet and safe. At such times Despotism, like a shrouding mist, steals over the mirror of Freedom. The Dutch, a thousand years ago, built against the ocean their bulwarks of willow and mud. Do they trust to that ? No. Each year the patient, industrious peasant gives so much time from the cultivation of his soil and the care of his children to stop the breaks and replace the willow which insects have eaten, that he may keep the land his fathers rescued from the water, and bid defiance to the waves that roar above his head, as if demanding back the broad fields man has stolen from their realm. Some men suppose that, in order to the people's governing themselves, it is only neces- sary, as Fisher Ames said, that the " Rights of Man be printed, and that every citizen have a copy." As the Epicureans, two thousand years ago, imagined God a being who arranged this marvellous machinery, set it going, and then sunk to sleep. Republics exist only on the tenure of being constantly agitated. The anti- slavery agitation is an important, nay, an essential part of the machinery of the state. It is not a disease nor a medicine. No ; it is the normal state, the normal state of the nation. Never, to our latest posterity, can we afford to do without prophets, like Garrison, to stir up the monotony of wealth, and re-awake the people to the great ideas that are con- stantly fading out of their minds, to trouble the waters, that there may be health in their 148 THE OEATOE. flow. Every government is always growing corrupt. Every Secretary of State is, by the very necessity of his position, an apostate. I mean what I say. He is an enemy to the people, of necessity, because the moment he joins the government, he gravitates against that popular agitation which is the life of a republic. A republic is nothing but a constant overflow of lava. The principles of Jefferson are not up to the principles of to-day. It was well said of Webster, that he knows well the Hancock and Adams of 1776, but he does not know the Hancocks and Adamses of to-day. The republic which sinks to sleep, trusting to constitutions and machinery, to politicians and statesmen, for the safety of its liberties, never will have any. The people are to be waked to a new effort, just as the Church has to be regenerated in each age. The anti-slavery agitation is a necessity of each age, to keep ever on the alert this faithful vigilance, so constantly in danger of sleep. We must live like our Puritan fathers, who always went to church, and sat down to dinner, when the Indians were in their neigh- bourhood, with their musket-lock on the one side and a drawn sword on the other. If I had time or voice to-night, I might pro- ceed to a further development of this idea, and I trust I could make it clear, which I fear I have not yet done. To my conviction, it is Gospel truth, that, instead of the anti-slavery agitation being an evil, or even the unwelcome cure of a disease in this government, the young- est child that lives may lay his hand on the youngest child that his grey hairs shall see, and say : " The agitation was commenced when the Declaration of Independence was signed ; it took its second tide when the Anti-slavery Declaration was signed in 1833, a movement, not the cure, but the diet of a free people, not the homoeopathic or the allopathic dose to which a sick land has recourse, but the daily cold water and the simple bread, the daily diet and absolute necessity, the manna of a people wan- dering in the wilderness." There is no Canaan in politics. As health lies in labour, and there is no royal road to it but through toil, so there is no republican road to safety but in constant distrust. " In distrust," said Demosthenes, " are the nerves of the mind." Let us see to it that these sentinel nerves are ever on the alert. If the Alps, piled in cold and still sub- limity, be the emblem of Despotism, the ever- restless ocean is ours, which, girt within the eternal laws of gravitation, is pure only because never still. THE EOYAL PARDON. THE legal and proper mercy of a King of England may remit the punishment, but not Btop the trial. Junius, EICHAED COBDEN. Born 1800. Living. [THE name of Richard Cobden at once suggests tlie great movements with which it is so inseparably asso- ciated ; foremost among those being Free Trade, the Corn Laws, and the operations of the Peace Party. More- over, his "unadorned eloquence," since first that phrase was uttered by Sir Robert Peel, has always found not a few appreciative listeners, both in the House of Commons and the country at large. We need, therefore, offer no excuse for adding to this collection a specimen of Mr. Cobden's oratory, which, though neither lofty nor rhetorical in its style, yet for plain business-like and withal concentrated force, has seldom been surpassed. In early life Mr. Cobden was chiefly engaged in commercial pursuits ; but having entered Parliament as member for Stockport in 1841, with few intermissions, be has been actively employed in poli- tical affairs ever since. The Speech which we have here selected was delivered at a great meeting of the Peace Party held in Exeter Hall on the 30th of October, 1849, and responsive to the Congress that had taken place in Paris in August of the same year, and as a clear decla- ration of the cardinal points of that creed which Mr. Cobden has so long espoused, has an interest quite independent of the style in which it is composed. At the meeting where this speech was made, many foreigners, as well as many of the eminent men of our own country, were present and addressed the assembly, Mr. William Ewart occupying the chair.] SPEECH AT EXETER HALL, 30iH or OCT., 1849. THE resolution which has been put into my hnds is : " That this meeting receives, with the highest satis- faction, the assurances of sympathy in this great move- ment, as conveyed in the letters which have been read from the Archbishop of Paris, from MM. Lamartine, Victor Hugo, Emile de Girardin, and other distinguished foreigners ; and it hails with delight the presence of the gentlemen who have honoured this assembly with their attendance on the present occasion, and trusts that their visits to this country will prove to them a source of personal gratification, and that it will tend to advance the period when national animosities shall be for ever forgotten, and peace and good will prevail throughout the world." It is now, I believe, exactly two years since this island was frighted from its propriety by the cry of an impending invasion from Prance. You all remember how great was the alarm on that occasion. We were terrified with the threat of the French army marching in at one end of London, and the Horse Guards marching out at the other. You know that the highest military authority in the country swelled the chorus of that alarm. You recollect that orders were given to improve our coast defences, to add to our steam fleet, to put in motion our squadron of evolution, and to prepare to repel the attack of these hostile Frenchmen from our shores. Well, and what said the men of peace on that occasion ? I can say of myself that it was that wicked cry, that consummation of a warlike system, that brought me into the ranks of the peace party of this country. We held our public meetings, and we protested that we did not regard the French as brigands, or as pirates that we had faith that they had no intention whatever of making a wanton attack upon our shores. But we did more. We pro- THE ORATOR. 149 posed to go and see these fierce and warlike people. Whilst the brave men, who trust to their armed forces, were digging steam-docks, launching steam-ships, and putting their coast defences in order, the men of peace were making their preparations to cross the Channel, and hold out the right hand of friendship and con- fidence to the French people. And we come to tell you that we have paid that visit, and that the hand we tendered has been most cordially grasped. We have now the pleasure of seeing here a deputation from France ; and it is in honour of those gentlemen, and of the other foreigners who are present, that we meet here to-day. In your name, and in the terms of this motion, I beg to tender them our hearty wel- come. When I look back, only for two years, and remember the arguments that were then adduced, openly and publicly, not only in our newspapers, but in our public assemblies, when I remember the disparaging, insulting, suspicious language, that was applied to the people of France, when I recollect how every man was decried who ventured even a surmise that it was possible the great mass of the French people were not disposed for war and when I think of the altered tone of those same journals which have, within the last month, complained that the French people who, they had told us, were ready to break forth upon their neighbours, the moment Louis Philippe should die are too pacific now, and cease to take any interest in foreign politics at all, I am tempted to ask, will these organs of the press learn a little modesty for the future P Will the lessons of these two short years have no effect upon them ? Do they think the English people have memories ? Will they be more diffident after this exposure? I will wait till to-morrow morning before I offer an opinion. My esteemed friend (Mr. Samuel Gurney), who has just spoken, has dwelt upon the most exalted and sacred view of this question, I join with him in paying homage to those principles of Christianity which he has so well enforced. When I became a party to the peace movement, it was with the conviction that the principles of peace, enjoined in the New Testament, would be advocated on the highest religious grounds, by men, more competent by study, and more entitled by position and by profession, to deal with those arguments than myself. But I am very much afraid and our esteemed friend Mr, Gurney, himself, will, I think, agree with me that those arguments are not alone sufficient to convince the politicians of the day. I am very sorry to say it, but I believe that that letter of Mr. Gurney, in which he gave his opinion as to the financial consequences of this warlike system, had more effect upon the minds of the politicians and influential statesmen of this country, than all the appeals he ever made, or ever could make, to their higher religious feelings. Having human beings to deal with, and secular objects to accomplish, we must bear in mind that, even if we have the sanction of Christianity for our principles, we must seek the accomplishment of our ends by human means, for God does not condescend, in our day, to work miracles, when man can accom- plish his ends without them. I confess that, when I find myself in the midst of an assembly like this, I prefer to take up my position on .. what the enemy calls our weakest flank, and to show, as a practical man, and a politician (leaving to others the defence of that impreg- nable position on which Mr. Gumey has planted himself), not only that the attack of the so-called statesmen of the day may be repelled, but that they may be utterly demolished on their own ground. One of the highest arts of state-craft is diplomacy. Now, who are the best diplomatists? Have the politicians, who have been telling us that the French were coming to attack us, and striving to revive the old cry of national enmity, proved the best diplomatists, or the men of * peace, who went over to Paris, and braved their sarcasms, whilst holding out the hand of fellow- ship to the French ? What is the state of affairs in the east of Europe at the present moment ? The question of peace, or war, has been lately raised, in connection with the affairs of the East. We have had apprehensions of the designs of a great northern power ; and on what has the maintenance of peace depended ? On the cordial good understanding between France and England, Who has preserved the good understanding between them ? The men who, two years ago, cried out for more ships of war, and more steam-docks ? This is a strange way of maintaining the entente cordiale, to be arming yourselves, and making your coasts bristle with cannon ! No, it was the men who went over in confidence to France, who had faith in the French people, who believed that they had justice and magnanimity in their national character, it was these men who pre- severed the good understanding between the two countries ; and it is the cordial agreement between France and England that has rendered war between Russia and Turkey impossible. Let us hear no more boasts of their diplomacy ; let us hear no more taunts against the peace party, as though they had no practical policy in view. What is the first essential of statecraft ? Finance. What must be the fate of our oppo- nents, if we try them by the test of their financial position just now ? There is a great movement in the country for financial reform. Again, the peace party have anticipated them in the field ; for there can be no financial reform, no material reduction of taxation, unless you resort to our principle of diminishing the armaments, 150 THE OEATOE. and taking other precautions against war than that of keeping yourselves constantly armed to the teeth. What is the amount of our expendi- ture for all purposes, besides those of war, and warlike preparation* ? Let us bring our financial reformers to book, and tell them what it is, in two lines. Last year, our expenditure, in round numbers, was fifty -four millions sterling; out of which, forty-seven millions were expended on the interest of debts for past wars, or the cost of our peace establishments. More than six-sevenths of our taxation goes to pay the cost of past or present war establishments. Seven millions out of fifty -four paid the whole expense of the civil government, the civil list, the expense of the Queen's establishment, the administration of justice, the poor-law office, the offices of the home and foreign secretaries paid, in fact, the whole cost of conducting the machinery of the civil government. Is it not clear, then, that any plan of financial reform must be a rank delusion, which does not include our policy of reducing the wai-like expenditure ? Are not we, then, the only practical party ? Instead of our being always under arms, ready to fight the moment a misunderstanding arises, we propose that nations, like individuals, should settle their disputes by arbitration. It is said, our notion is very good in theory, but is not practicable. All we want the persons, who say it is not practicable, to do, is, to try. I have not sufficient confidence in their judg- ment, to take their word for anything I want to be done in this way. I want them to try, and if they do not succeed, then we will, at all events, give them credit for having done their best. Next session, besides bringing forward the arbitration question, I intend to endeavour to induce the Foreign Secretary to try to pre- vail upon foreign countries to join with us in diminishing the extent of our naval and military forces. This is certain, that if we all discontinue building line-of- battle ships, we shall all of us remain in the same relative position with our neighbours which we now occupy. There is no disinterested person in our own country, or in any country about us, who will dissent from that proposition. I have made this suggestion in private conversation with public men, here and abroad; to foreign statesmen, as to our own; and all concur in the admission, that it would suit them well to put a stop to this expenditure ; that it would be a most desirable financial relief; but when we propose that some one among them should begin the good work, should set an example, or even make a proposal to the others, to begin simultaneously, this saving of expense, or even the prevention of increase, we cannot persuade them, or any one of them, to set about it. Our navy has been kept up solely with reference to France. We have increased our fleet as France has increased hers ; and so far from proposing, as I want them to do, that both countries should cease from adding to their armaments, our govern- ment sends spies to the French dockyards, and no sooner is a fresh keel laid down there, or a fresh forge set up, than my Lords of the Ad- miralty avail themselves of the pretext to lay down a fresh keel, or set up a fresh forge, here. Was ever such folly as this perpetrated in individual life ? There is not a private trader amongst us who could carry on his business on the same principles that the governments of England and France carry on theirs, without finding his way into the Insolvent Court ; and I am satisfied, that if these governments con- tinue in the same course, financial difficulties and bankruptcy await them, and they will go into the Gazette, without deserving a certificate at the hands of their people. Already, however, the progress of discussion on this subject, has been attended with some results. Two years ago, we were told that great armies and navies were kept up as a means of defending countries against powerful neighbours. But such is the force of truth, elicited by the progress of discussion on this subject, it is admitted now, by the very parties who vilified us then for taking the same position, that war between two nations is not the evil to be feared ; but, say they, it is insurrectionary movements wars of rebellion, which have to be guarded against. If such be the truth, all I have to say is, that the system of keeping up armies of hundreds of thousands of soldiers to keep down the people, does not answer the purpose of those who enforce it. The system has been tried long enough, and has been proved a failure. When, two years ago, I was unable to attend the Peace Congress at Brussels, I put down on paper the statement that there were at that time, in the aggregate, two millions of armed men in the pay of the different govern- ments of Europe. What has since happened ? Why, in spite of these armed myriads, revo- lutions have swept so fiercely the continent that there is scarcely a throne which has not been shaken to its base, though protected by this array of bayonets. Some of these thrones have, more or less, recovered their equilibrium ; but, instead of their occupants trying some new system, in place of that which they have found BO entire a failure, they have only set about increasing their armies, so that, where there were three soldiers two years ago, there are now, I should say, four. I have often been puzzled, in- trying to conjecture what can be the motives of the old governments of Europe in adhering to this absurd course ; and, fairly at a loss to account for it, ,upou any rational or honest grounds, I have reajly sometimes been half inclined to doubt whetlter they have not designedly sought to bring their finances THE ORATOR. 151 into such utter confusion such, hopeless bank- ruptcy that no other form of government can be found willing to undertake the labour and risk of their restoration. It is a puerile illustration ; but boys at school, you know, when they have an apple or a cake that they want to keep all to themselves, rub it over with dirt, in order to disgust their school-fellows and, even so it is, I suspect, with the old governments I speak of. It is no wonder, that, seeing the persistence of their rulers in such an absurd and disastrous career, the more ignorant portion of the people of Europe should have doubts whether society be not altogether founded on false principles, and, in their despair, advocate the policy of dig- ging up the very foundations of the social edifice. It is we, the maligned Utopists the advocates of reduced warlike establishments, who have, alone, proposed a remedy for these disorders. I am not going into the question of the internal affairs of other countries. If any particular nation has a fancy to be taxed for the maintenance of an army of three or four hundred thousand soldiers, for its own oppres- sion, I am not going to interfere with the fancy. But I would point out that these standing- armies are not raised and maintained out of the immediate pockets of the people : they are paid for by loans. And, if we want really to prevent governments from keeping up these large armaments, our mode must be to raise such a public opinion in England, and else- where, as shall dissuade individuals from lending their money to those governments. We have already struck a blow at the system : Austria has, indeed, got a loan ; but the money was not advanced by Holland or by England ; a fact which must satisfactorily prove that the right spirit has dawned upon us. The loan has been chiefly subscribed for by the bankers of Vienna; and, as treasury bonds and incon- vertible paper have been taken in payment, it really amounts to little more than a funding of part of the floating debt, at a high rate of interest ; and the estimation in which the loan is held generally, is sufficiently demonstrated by the fact, that, before the bonds were issued, they were at a discount of one per cent. There is now another great northern power in the market. Russia, I see from yesterday's paper, is indirectly applying for a loan. The great Czar has sent forth his ukase, in which he invites people to give him credit for three or four millions stei'ling, in the shape of treasury bonds ; and I am delighted to perceive, from the very ukase itself, that the loan is needed " to cover the expense of the war lately carried on in Hungary." After this, what becomes of the boast about the wealth of this power ? Did we not hear, the other day, that rich Russia, liberal Russia, had taken up two millions of the Austrian load, had given the Pope 500,000, and the Grand Duke of Tuscany 250,000 ? Don't be gulled into a belief of any- thing of the kind. I declare, solemnly, after long investigation into the affairs of that government, that I would not give 25, as an investment for my children, for the Russian stock, which the bulls and bears are now buying and selling in the City for 108. And, more- over, I know men, of more extensive knowledge in Russian affairs, who would not make a higher bid than mine. From the very depth of my heart, I thank heaven, that it has ordained, in its Divine Providence, that where there are huge standing armies of 700,000 or 800,000 men, there will also be a bankrupt exchequer and a discontented people. Were such not the consequences, under God's will were it not, that, even in this world, such an unrighteous policy meets with retributive punishment, I should be much less sanguine than I am, in the expectation of realizing the remedy we seek. It is by the emphatic enunciation of great principles, at meetings like the present, that the cause we have espoused must be advanced. It is from these platforms that public opinion, is created, and the policy of our government is determined. ^T. am especially anxious that we should re- pudiate and denounce the principle of inter- ference in the domestic affairs of independent countries. We boast that, with us, every man's house, who has not violated the laws of his country, is his castle, which he who forces is a burglar. What shall we say, then, to the burglary of nations, when one independent, self- governing state is invaded by a neighbouring and stronger nation, under the hypocritical pretext of the weaker country's advantage ? Upon no principle of justice or right, can a foreign power interfere, by force, in the internal affairs of another and independent state-^and, until this is thoroughly recognized, and acted upon, by the governments of the world, there can, practically, be no security against anarchy among nations._j I say this equally, as to the interference of Russia with Hungary, of Eng- land with Spain, of France with Rome. There has been, indeed, a doctrine admitted in this country, with relation to Hungary, which has affected me more poignantly than any political circumstance of recent date. It has been put forth from this country not only by the press, but by the mouth of the Foreign Secretary that, by the law of nations, the Austrian go- vernment had a right to call on a neighbouring power to aid it in putting down what it was pleased to call the rebellion of its people. Now, this is a question, not of the law of nations, but of the responsibility of the governors to the governed. The boy Emperor of Austria, ex- pelled from his most important tei'ritory, has the right, it is said, to call in the Cossacks to 152 THE ORATOR. cut the throats of his own subjects. If this be admitted, there is an end of the responsibility of governments to their people/ In England, we have maintained, since 16o8, the principle that the people are the sovereign source of power. Suppose that, at some future period the supposition, under existing circumstances, is impossible the English people were to come into conflict with their sovereign, and that he was defeated, as was the case with the Austrian government in Hungary, is it pretended that, in such a case, the sovereign would be justified in calling in the Turks, for example, to her aid, as Austria had called in Russia ? Yet this is the principle advocated by those who approve the Russian intervention in Hungary. A large proportion of the daily press of this country has been hounding on the Cossacks in their brutal invasion their cruel treatment of a more civilized and freer people. I reflect, with humiliation, as an Englishman, upon the part which these journals have taken upon this sub- ject during the last few months and I implore the men now present, who represent foreign countries on this occasion, to believe me when I assure them that these papers do not represent the public opinion or heart of this country. Let the Peace Congress, which is spreading its roots and its branches, far and wide, throughout the world, proclaim these four cardinal principles in faith and heart arbitration instead of war ; a simultaneous re- duction of armaments ; the denunciation of the right of any nation to interfere, by force, in the domestic affairs of any other nation ; the re- pudiation of loans to warlike governments. Let these cardinal points be adhered to, and, with theDivine blessing, which cannot fail to be vouch- safed to so good a work, perseverance will ensure an eventful triumph to the friends of peace. CROSBY (Lone MAYOR) AT THE BAR, OF THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON A CHARGE OF CONTUMACY. I ASK no favour of this House I crave no mercy. I am ready to go to my noble friend at the Tower, if the House shall order me. My conscience is clear, and tells me that I have kept my oath, and done my duty to the city, of which I have the honour to be chief magistrate, and to my country. I will never betray the privileges of the citizens, nor the rights of the people. I have no apology to make for having acted uprightly, and I fear not any resentment in consequence of such conduct. I will through life continue to obey the dictates of honour and conscience, to give my utmost support to every part of the constitution of this kingdom ; and the event I shall always leave to heaven, at all times ready to meet my fate. I EDWARD LORD THURLOW. Born 1732. Died 1806. [THE Duke of Grafton having reproached Lord Thurlow with his plebeian extraction, and his recent admission into the peerage, Lord Thurlow rose from the woolsack, and advanced slowly to the place from which the chancellor generally addresses the houso : then fixing on the duke the look of Jove when he grasps the thunder, in a level tone of voice, he spoke as follows ; and, in the words of an American critic, "The effect of this speech, both within the walls and out of them, was prodigious. It gave Lord Thurlow an ascendancy in the house which no chancellor had ever possessed ; it invested him, in public opinion, with a character of independence and honour; and this, though he was ever on the unpopular side in politics, made him always popular with the people."] SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS, IN REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. AM amazed at the attack the noble duke has made on me. Yes, my lords [con- siderably raising his voice], I am amazed at his grace's speech. The noble duke cannot look before him, behind him, or on either side of him, without seeing some noble peer who owes his seat in this house to his successful exertions in the profession to which I belong. Does he not feel that it is as honourable to owe it to these, as to being the accident of an acci- dent ? To all these noble lords the language of the noble duke is as applicable and as insulting as it is to myself. But I do not fear to meet it single and alone. No one vene- rates the peerage more than I do : but, my lords, I must say, that the peerage solicited me, not I the peerage. Nay more : I can say, and will say, that as a peer of Parliament, as Speaker of this right honourable House, as keeper of the great seal, as guardian of his Majesty's conscience, as Lord High Chancellor of England, nay, even in that character alone in which the noble duke would think it an affront to be considered, as A MAN, I am at this moment as respectable, 1 beg leave to add, I am at this time as much respected, as the proudest peer I now look down upon. THE HONOUR OF THE CROWN, AND THAT OF THE PEOPLE, IDENTIFIED. THE Bang's honour is that of his people. Their real honour and real interest are the same. This is no vain punctilio. A clear, unblemished character comprehends, not only the integrity that will not offer, but the spirit that will not submit to, an injury ; and whether it belongs to an individual, or to a community, it is the foundation of peace, of independence, and of safety. Private credit is wealth ; public honour is security. The feather that adorns the royal bird supports his flight. Strip him of his plumage, and you fix him to the earth. Junius. THE ORATOR. 153 JOHN PHILPOT CURRAN. Born 1750. Died 1817. [The following passages are extracted from a speech in defence of Archibald Hamilton Rowan, delivered in the Court of King's Bench, in Ireland, on the 29th of January, 1794. The Attorney-General filed an infor- mation against Mr. Rowan, in which he was charged, as Secretary to the Society of United Irishmen at Dublin, with having published a false, malicious, and seditious libel against the Government. Despite the splendid eloquence of Curran exerted on his behalf, the accused was convicted, and on conviction fined 500, and sentenced to two years' imprisonment. Rowan subsequently made his escape to America, whence he returned after some years to receive the King's pardon, and enjoy the last years of a long life in his native country. A full account of the trial of Rowan, and all the circumstances connected with it, may be found in an admirable work by the late Charles Phillips, entitled " Curran and his Contemporaries."] DEFENCE OF MK. ROWAN. FT! HIS paper, gentlemen, insists upon the JL necessity of emancipating the Catholics of Ireland, and that is charged as part of the libel. If they had waited another year, if they had kept this prosecution impending for another year, how much would remain for a jury to decide upon, I should be at a loss to discover. It seems as if the progress of public reformation was eating away the ground of the prosecution. Since the commencement of the prosecution, this part of the libel has unluckily received the sanction of the legislature. In that interval our Catholic brethren have obtained that ad- mission, which it seems it was a libel to pro- pose : in what way to account for this I am really at a loss. Have any alarms been oc- casioned by the emancipation of our Catholic brethren P Has the bigoted malignity of any individuals been crushed ? Or has the stability of the government, or has that of the country, been weakened ? Or is one million of subjects stronger than four millions ? Do you think that the benefit they received should be poisoned by the sting of vengeance ? If you think so, you must say to them, " You have demanded emancipation, and you have got it ; but we abhor your persons, we are outraged at your success ; and we will stigmatize by a criminal prosecution the relief which you have obtained from the voice of your country." I ask yon, gentlemen, do you think, as honest men anxious for the public tranquillity, conscious that there are wounds not yet completely cicatrized, that you ought to speak this language at this time to men who are too much disposed to think that in this very emancipation they have been saved from their own parliament by the humanity of their sovereign ? Or do you wish to prepare them for the revocation of these improvident concessions ? Do you think it wise or humane at this moment to insult them, by sticking up in a pillory the man who dared to stand forth their advocate ? I put it to your oaths, do you think that a blessing of that kind, that a NO. XX. victory obtained by justice over bigotry and oppression, should have a stigma cast upon it by an ignominious sentence upon men bold and honest enough to propose that measure ? To propose the redeeming of religion from the abuses of the church, the reclaiming of three millions of men from bondage, and giving liberty to all who had a right to demand it ; giving, I say, in the so much censured words of this paper, giving " universal emancipation ! " I speak in the spirit of the British law, which makes liberty commensurate with and inse- parable from British soil ; which proclaims even to the stranger and the sojourner, the moment he sets his foot upon British earth, that the ground on which he treads is holy, and con- secrated by the genius of " universal emanci- pation." yfao matter in what language his doom may have been pronounced; no matter what complexion incompatible with freedom, an Indian or an African sun may have burnt upon him ; no matter in what disastrous battle his liberty may have been cloven down ; no matter, with what solemnities he may haTe been devoted upon the altar of slavery; the first moment he touches the sacred soil of Britain, the altar and the god sink together in the dust ; his soul walks abroad in her own majesty ; his body swells beyond the measure of his chains, that burst from around him, and he stands redeemed, regenerated, and dis- enthralled, by the irresistible genius of " uni- versal emancipation." [Here Mr. Curran was interrupted by a Budden burst of applause from the court and hall. Silence, however, was restored after some minutes.] Gentlemen, I am not such a fool as to as- cribe any effusion of this sort to any merit of mine. It is the mighty theme, and not the inconsiderable advocate, that can excite interest in the hearer ! What you hear is but the testi- mony which nature bears to her own character ; it is the effusion of her gratitude to that power, which stamped that character upon her. And, gentlemen, permit me to say, that if my client had occasion to defend his cause by any mad or drunken appeals to extravagance or licentiousness, I trust in God I stand in that situation, that, humble as I am, he would not have resorted to me to be his advocate. I wa? not recommended to his choice by any con- nection of principle or party, or even private friendship; and saying this, I cannot but add, that I consider not to be acquainted with such a man as Mr. Rowan, a want of personal good fortune. Gentlemen, upon this great subject of reform and emancipation there is a latitude and bold- ness of remark, justifiable in the people, and necessary to the defence of Mr. Rowan, for which the habits of professional studies, and technical adherence to established forms, have 154 THE ORATOR. rendered me unfit. It is, however, my duty, standing here as his advocate, to make some few observations to you, which I conceive to be material. Gentlemen, you are sitting in a country which has a right to the British constitution, and which is bound by an indissoluble union with the British nation. If you were now even at liberty to debate upon that subject ; if you even were not by the most solemn compacts, founded upon the authority of your ancestors and of yourselves, bound to that alliance, and had an election now to make ; in the present unhappy state of Europe, if you had been heretofore a stranger to Great Britain, you would now say, we will enter into society and union with you ; Una salus ambobus erit, commune periclum. But to accomplish that union, let me tell you, you must learn to become like the English people ; it is vain to say, you will protect their freedom if you abandon your own. The pillar whose base has no foundation, can give no sup- port, to the dome under which its head is placed; and if you profess to give England that assist- ance which you refuse to yourselves, she will laugh at your folly, and despise your meanness and insincerity. Let us follow this a little further, I know you will interpret what I say with the candour in which it is spoken . England is marked by a natural avarice of freedom, which she is studious to engross and accumulate, but most unwilling to impart, whether from any necessity of her policy, or from her weakness, or from her pride, I will not presume to say ; but that so is the fact, you need not look to the east, or to the west, you need only look to yourselves. In order to confirm that observation, I would appeal to what fell from the learned counsel for the crown, that notwithstanding the alliance subsisting for two centuries past between the two countries, the date of liberty in one goes no further back than the year 1784. If it required additional confirmation, I should state the case of the invaded American, and the subjugated Indian, to prove that the policy of England has ever been to govern her connections more as colonies, than as allies; and it must be owing to the great spirit indeed of Ireland if she shall continue free. Rely upon it, she will ever have to hold her course against an adverse current ; rely upon it, if the popular spring does not continue strong and elastic, rely upon it, a short interval of debili- tated nerve and broken force will send you down the stream again, and reconsign you to the condition of a province. If such should become the fate of your con- stitution, aslc yourselves what must be the motive of your government? It is easier to govern a province by a faction, than to govern a co-ordinate country by co-ordinate means. I do not say it is now, but it will be always thought easiest by the managers of the day, to govern the Irish nation by the agency of such a faction, as long as this country shall be found willing to let her connection with Great Britain be preserved only by her own degradation. In such a precarious and wretched state of things, if it shall ever be found to exist, the true friend of Irish liberty, and British connection, will see, that the only means of saving both must be, as Loi'd Chatham expressed it, the infusion of new health and blood into the constitution. He will see how deep a stake each country has in the liberty of the other ; he will see what a bulwark he adds to the common cause, by giving England a co-ordinate and co-interested ally, instead of an oppressed, enfeebled, and suspected dependant; he will see how grossly the credulity of Britain is abused by those who make her believe that her solid interest is promoted by our depression; he will see the desperate precipice to which she approaches by such a conduct, and with an animated and generous piety he will labour to avert her dan- ger. But, gentlemen of the jury, what is likely to be his fate ? The interest of the sovereign must be for ever the interest of his people, because his interest lies beyond his life; it must live in his fame, it must live in the tenderness of his solicitude for an unborn posterity ; it must live in that heart-attaching bond by which millions of men have united the destinies of themselves and their children with his, and call him by the endearing appellation of king and father of his people. But what can be the interest of such a government as I have described ? Not the interest of the king, not the interest of the people, but the sordid interest of the hour ; the interest in deceiving the one, and in oppressing and deforming the other ; the interest of un- punished rapine and unmerited favour: that odious and abject interest, that prompts them to extinguish public spirit in punishment or in bribe ; and to pursue every man, even to death, who has sense to see and integrity and firmness enough to abhor and to oppose them. What, therefore, I say, gentlemen, will be the fate of the man who embarks in an enterprise of so much difficulty and danger ? I will not answer it. Upon that hazard has my client put every- thing that can be dear to man ; his fame, his fortune, his person, his liberty, and his children; but with what event your verdict only can answer, and to that I refer your country. Gentlemen, there is a fourth point remaining. Says this paper, " For both these purposes, it appears necessaiy that provincial conventions should assemble preparatfiry to the convention of the Protestant people. The delegates of the THE OBATOR. 155 Catholic body are not justified in communicating with individuals, or even bodies of inferior authority, and therefore an assembly of a simi- lar nature and organization is necessary to establish an intercourse of sentiment, and uniformity of conduct, an united cause and an united nation. If a convention on the one part does not soon follow, and is not soon con- nected with that on the other, the common cause will split into the partial interest ; the people will relax into inattention and inertness ; the union of affection and exertion will dissolve, and, too probably, some local insurrection, instigated by the malignity of our common enemy, may commit the character and risk the tranquillity of the island, which can be ob- viated only by the influence of an assembly arising from, assimilated with the people, and whose spirit may be, as it were, knit with the soul of the nation ; unless the sense of the Protestant people be on their part as fairly collected and as judicially directed, unless in- dividual exertion consolidates into collective strength, unless the particles unite into mass, we may perhaps serve some person or some party for a little, but the public not at all ; the nation is neither insolent, nor rebellious, nor seditious : while it knows its rights, it is unwilling to manifest its powers; it would rather supplicate the administration to an- ticipate revolution, by well-timed reform, and to save their country in mercy to themselves." Gentlemen, it is with something more than common reverence, it is with a species of terror that I am obliged to tread this ground. But what is the idea put in the strongest point of view P We are willing not to manifest em- powers, but to supplicate administration, to anticipate revolution, that the legislature may save the country in mercy to itself. Let me suggest to you, gentlemen, that there are some circumstances which have happened in the history of this country, that may better serve as a comment upon this part of the case than any I can make. I am not bound to defend Mr. Rowan as to the truth or wisdom of the opinions he may have formed. But if he did really conceive the situation of the country such as that the not redressing her grievances might lead to a convulsion, and of such an opinion not even Mr. Rowan is answerable here for the wisdom, much less shall I insinuate any idea of my own upon so awful a subject ; but if he did so conceive the fact to be, and acted from the fair and honest suggestion of a mind anxious for the public good, I must confess, gentlemen, I do not know in what part of the British constitution to find tho principle of his criminality. But, gentlemen, be pleased further to con- sider, that ho cannot be understood to put the fact on which he argues on the authority of his assertion. The condition of Ireland was as open to the observation of every other man as to that of Mr. Rowan ; what then docs this part ofthe publication amount to? In my mind, simply to this : "The nature of oppression in all countries is such, that although it may be borne to a certain degree, it cannot be borne beyond that degree ; you find it exemplified in Great Britain ; you find the people of England patient to a certain point, but patient no longer. That infatuated monarch James II. experienced this ; the time did come when the measure of popular suffering and popular patience waa full ; when a single drop was sufficient to make the waters of bitterness to overflow. I think this measure in Ireland is brimful at present ; I think the state of repre- sentation of the people in parliament is a grievance ; I think the utter exclusion of three millions of people is a grievance of that kind that the people are not likely long to endure, and the continuation of which may plunge the country into that state of despair which wrongs exasperated by perseverance never fail to pro- duce." But to whom is even this language addressed P Not to the body of the people, on whose temper and moderation, if once excited, perhaps not much confidence could be placed ; but to that authoritative body whose influence and power would have restrained the excesses of the irritable and tumultuous ; and for that purpose expressly does this publication address the volunteers. " We are told that we are in danger ; I call upon you, the great consti- tutional saviours of Ireland, defend the country to which you have given political existence, and use whatever sanction your great name, your sacred character, and the weight you have in the community, must give you to repress wicked designs, if any there are. " We feel ourselves strong ; the people are always strong ; the public chains can only be riveted by the public hands. Look to those devoted regions of southern despotism, behold the expiring victim on his knees, presenting the javelin reeking with his blood to the ferocious monster who returns it into his heart. Call not that monster the tyrant, he is no more than the executioner of that in- human tyranny which the people practise upon themselves, and of which he is only reserved to be a later victim than the wretch he has sent before. Look to a nearer country, where the sanguinary characters are more legible ; whence you almost hear the groans of death and torture. Do you ascribe the rapine and murder of France to the few names that we are execrating here ? Or do you not see that it is the frenzy of an infuriated multitude abusing its own strength, and practising those hideous abominations upon itself ? Against the violence of this strength let your virtue and influence be our safeguard." 15f THE ORATOR. What criminality, gentlemen of the jury, can you find in this ? what at any time ? But I ask you, peculiarly at this momentous period, what guilt can you find in it ? My client s^w the scene of horror and blood which covers almost the face of Europe: he feared that causes, which he thought similar, might produce similar effects, and he seeks to avert those dangers by calling the united virtue and tried moderation of the country into a state of strength and vigilance. Yet this is the conduct which the prosecution of this day seeks to punish and stigmatize. And this is the lan- guage for which this paper is reprobated to-day, as tending to turn the hearts of the people against their sovereign, and inviting them to overturn the constitution. Let us now, gentlemen, consider the concluding part of this publication : it recommends a meeting of the people to deliberate on constitutional methods of redressing grievances. Upon this subject I am inclined to suspect that I have in my youth taken up crude ideas, not founded, perhaps, in law ; but I did imagine that when the Bill of Rights restored the right of petition- ing for the redress of grievances, it was under- stood that the people might boldly state among themselves that grievances did exist ; that they might lawfully assemble themselves in such manner as they might deem most orderly and decorous. I thought I had collected it from the greatest luminaries of the law. The power of petitioning seemed to me to imply the right of assembling for the purpose of deliberation. The law requiring a petition to be presented by a limited number seemed to me to admit that the petition might be prepared by any number whatever, provided in doing so they did not commit any breach or violation of the public peace. I know that there has been a law passed in the Irish parliament of last year, which may bring my former opinion into a merited want of authority. That law declares that no body of men may delegate a power to any smaller number, to act, think, or petition for them. If that law had not passed, I should have thought that the assembling by a dele- gated convention was recommended, in order to avoid the tumult and disorder of a promis- cuous assembly of the whole mass of the people. I should have conceived before that act that any law to abridge the orderly appointment of the few to consult for the interest of the many, and thus force the many to consult by themselves or not at all, would in fact be a law not to restrain but to promote insurrection: but that law has spoken, and my esvor must stand corrected. Of this, however, let me remind you, you are to try this part of the publication by what the law was then, not by what it is now. How was it understood until last session of parliament? You have both in England and Ireland, for the last ten years, these delegated meetings. The volunteers of Ireland in 1782 met by delegation; they framed a plan of parliamentary reform ; they presented it to the representative wisdom of the nation ; it was not received, but no man ever dreamed that it was not the undoubted right of the subject to assemble in that manner. They assembled by delegation at Dungannon ; and to show the idea then entertained of the legality of their public conduct, that same body of volunteers was thanked by both houses of parliament, and their delegates most gra- ciously received at the throne. The other day, you had delegated representatives of the Catholics of Ireland, publicly elected by the members of that persuasion, and sitting in convention in the heart of your capital, carry- ing on an actual treaty with the existing government, and under the eye of your own parliament, which was then assembled ; you have seen the delegates from that convention carry the complaints of their grievances to the foot of the throne, from whence they brought back to that convention the auspicious tidings of that redress which they had been refused at home. Such, gentlemen, have been the means of popular communication and discussion, which until the last session have been deemed legal in this country ; as, happily for the sister kingdom, they are yet considered there. I do not complain of this act as any in- fraction of popular liberty ; I should not think it becoming in me to express any complaint against a law when once become such. I ob- serve only that one mode of popular delibe- ration is thereby taken utterly away, and you are reduced to a situation in which you never stood before. You are living in a country where the constitution is rightly stated to be only ten years old ; where the people have not the ordinary rudiments of education. It is a melancholy story, that the lower orders of the people here have less means of being en- lightened than the same class of people in any other country. If there be no means left by which public measures can be canvassed, what will be the consequence ? Where the press is free, and discussion unrestrained, the mind, by the collision of intercourse, gets rid of its own asperities, a sort of insensible perspiration takes place, by which those acrimonies, which would otherwise fester and inflame, are quietly dissolved and dissipated. Bui now, if any aggregate assembly shall meet, they are cen- sured ; if a printer publishes their resolutions, he is punished; rightly, to be sure, in both cases, for it has been lately done. If the people say, Let us not create tumult, but meet in delegation, they cannot do it. If they are anxious to promote parliamentary reform in THE ORATOR. 157 that way, they cannot do it; the law of the last session has for the first time declared such meetings to be a crime. What then remains ? Only the liberty of the press, that sacred palladium, which no influence, no power, no minister, no government, which nothing but the depravity, or folly, or corruption of a jury, can ever destroy. And what calamity are the people saved from by having public communi- cation left open to them ? I will tell you, gentlemen, what they are saved from, and what the government is saved from ; I will tell you also to what both are exposed by shutting up that communication. In one case sedition speaks aloud and walks abroad ; the demagogue goes forth, the public eye is upon him, he frets his busy hour upon the stage ; but soon either weariness, or bribe, or punishment, or dis- appointment, bear him down, or drive him off, and he appears 110 more. In the other case, how does the work of sedition go forward ? Night after night the muffled rebel steals forth in the dark, and casts another and another brand upon the pile, to which, when the hour of fatal maturity shall an-ive, he will apply the flame. If you doubt of the horrid con- sequences of suppressing the effusion even of individual discontent, look to those enslaved countries where the protection of despotism is supposed to be secured by such restraints, even the person of the despot there is never in safety. Neither the fears of the despot, nor the machinations of the slave have any slumber, the one anticipating the moment of peril, the other watching the opportunity of aggression. The fatal crisis is equally a surprise upon both ; the decisive instant is precipitated without warning, by folly on the one side, or by frenzy on the other, and there is no notice of the treason till the traitor acts. In those unfortunate countries (one cannot read it without horror) ' there are officers whose province it is to have the water, which is to be drunk by their rulers, sealed up in bottles, lest some wretched mis- creant should throw poison into the draught. But, gentlemen, if you wish for a nearer and more interesting example, you have it in the history of your own revolution ; you have it at that memorable period, when the monarch found a servile acquiescence in the ministers of his folly, when the liberty of the press was trodden under foot, when venal sheriffs re- turned packed juries to carry into effect those fatal conspiracies of the few against the many, when the devoted benches of public justice were filled by some of those foundlings of fortune, who, overwhelmed in the torrent of corruption at an early period, lay at the bottom like drowned bodies, while soundness or sanity remained in them ; but at length becoming buoyant by putrefaction, they rose as they rotted, and floated to the surface of the polluted stream, where they were drifted along, the objects of terror, and contagion, and abomi- nation. In that awful moment of a nation's travail, of the last gasp of tyranny, and the first breath of freedom, how pregnant is the example ? The press extinguished, the people enslaved, and the prince undone. As the advocate of society, therefore, of peace, of domestic liberty, and the lasting union of the two countries, I conjure you to guard the liberty of the press, that great sentinel of the state, that grand detector of public im- posture ; guard it, because when it sinks, there sinks with it, in one common grave, the liberty of the subject and the security of the crown. Gentlemen, I am glad that this question has not been brought forward earlier ; I rejoice for the sake of the court, of the jury, and of the public repose, that this question has not been brought forward till now. In Great Britain analogous circumstances have taken place. /At the commencement of that unfortunate war which has deluged Europe with blood, the spirit of the English people was tremblingly alive to the terror of French principles ; at that moment of general paroxysm, to accuse was to convict. The danger loomed larger to the public eye from the misty medium through which it was surveyedyXWe measure inac- cessible heights by the shadows which they project; where the lowness and the distance of the light form the length of the shade. There is a sort of aspiring and adventurous credulity, which disdains assenting to obvious truths, and delights in catching at the im- probability of circumstances, as its best ground of faith. To what other cause, gentlemen, can you ascribe that, in the wise, the reflecting, and the philosophic nation of Great Britain, a printer has been gravely found guilty of a libel, for publishing those resolutions to which the present minister of that kingdom had actually subscribed his name ? To what other cause can you ascribe, what in my mind is still more astonishing, in such a country as Scotland, a nation cast in the happy medium between the spiritless acquiescence of submissive poverty, and the sturdy credulity of pampered wealth ; cool and ardent, adventurous and per- severing ; winning her eagle flight against the blaze of every science, with an eye that never winks, and a wing that never tires ; crowned as she is with the spoils of every art, and decked with the wreath of every muse ; from the deep and scrutinizing researches of her Humes, to the sweet and simple, but not less sublime and pathetic morality of her Burns how from the bosom of a country like that, genius and character, and talents, should be banished to a distant barbarous soil ; condemned 158 THE ORATOR. to pine under the horrid communion of vulgar vice and ^ase-born profligacy, for twice the period that ordinary calculation gives to the continuance of human life ? But I will not further press any idea that is painful to me, and I am sure must be painful to you ; I will only say, you have now an example, of which neither England nor Scotland had the ad- vantage ; you have the example of the panic, the infatuation, and the contrition of both. It is now for you to decide whether you will profit by their experience of idle panic and idle regret, or whether you meanly prefer to palliate a servile imitation of their frailty, by a paltry affectation of their repentance. It is now for you to show that you are not earned away by the same hectic delusions, to acts, of which no tears can wash away the fatal conse- quences, or the indelible reproach, ^/trentlemen, let me suggest another obser- /vation or two. If still you have any doubt as to the guilt or innocence of the defendant, give me leave to suggest to you what circum- stances you ought to consider in order to found your verdict. You should consider the cha- racter of the person accused, and in this your task is easy. I will venture to say there is not a man in this nation more known than the gentleman who is the subject of this prose- cution, not only by the part he has taken in public concerns, and which he has taken in common with many, but still more so by that extraordinary sympathy for human affliction, which, I am sony to think, he shares with so small a number. There is not a day that you hear the cries of your starving manufacturers in your streets, that you do not also see the advocate of their sufferings -that yoa--4o^nat._ see-his- hon6k manly figure-, with- -rmeorered -head, soliciting for their relief searching the frozen- heart of charity for every string that can be touched by compassion, and urging the force of every argument and every motive, save that which his modesty suppresses the autho- rity of his own generous example. Or if you see him not there, you may trace his steps to the private abode of disease and famine and despair, Uw meammutil 1 trf ilujntut) bearing with him food and medicine and consolation. Are these the materials of which you suppose anarchy and public rapine to be formed ? Is this the man on whom to fasten the abominable charge of goading on a frantic populace to nratiny and bloodshed P Is this the man likely to apostatize from every principle that can bind him to the state; his birth, his pro- perty, his education, his character, and his children ? Let me tell you, gentlemen of the jury, if you agree with his prosecutors in think- ing that there ought to be a sacrifice of such a man on such an occasion and upon the credit of such evidence you are to convict him never did you, never can you, give a sentence con- signing any man to public punishment with less danger to his person or to his fame : for where could the hireling be found to fling contumely or ingratitude at his head, whose private distresses he had not laboured to alleviate, or whose public condition he had not- laboured to improve ? I cannot, however, avoid adverting to a circumstance that distinguishes the case of Mr. Rowan from that of a late sacrifice in a neighbouring kingdom.* The severer law of that country, it seems, and happy for them that it should, enables them to remove from their sight the victim of their infatuation ; the more merciful spirit of our law deprives you of that consolation ; his sufferings must remain for ever before your eyes, a continual call upon your shame and your remorse. But those sufferings will do more; they will not rest satisfied with your unavailing contrition, they will challenge the great and paramount inquest of society, the man will be weighed against the charge, the witness, and the sentence ; and impartial justice will demand, why has an Irish jury done this deed? The moment he ceases to be regarded as a criminal he becomes of necessity an ac- cuser ; and let me ask you, what can your most zealous defenders be prepared to answer to such a charge ? When your sentence shall have sent him forth to that stage which guilt alone can render infamous, let me tell you, he will not be like a little statue upon a mighty pedestal, diminishing by elevation ; but he will stand a striking and imposing object upon a monument, which, if it does not and it cannot record the atrocity of his crime, must record the atrocity of his conviction. And upon this subject, credit me when I say, that I am still more anxious for you than I can possibly be for him. I cannot but feel the peculiarity of your situation. Not the jury of his own choice, which the law of England allows, but which ours refuses ; f collected in that box by a person, certainly no friend to Mr. Rowan, certainly not very deeply interested in giving him a very impartial jury. Feeling this, as I am persuaded you do, you cannot be surprised, however you may be distressed at the mournful presage, with which an anxious public is led to fear the worst from your possible determination. But I will not, for the justice and honour of our common countiy, suffer my mind to be borne away by such melancholy anticipation ; I will not relinquish the confidence that this day will be the period of his sufferings; and, however * Alluding to the banishment cf Muir, Palmer, and others. f In making up the jury, Mr. Rowan was not allowed the same right of chellerge which is enjoyed in England. THE ORATOR. 159 merciless lie lias been hitherto pursued, that your verdict wil 1 him home to the arms of his fnr..r ishes of his country, jbul ir, > ..i xiettven forbid, it hath still been UE. rtunately determined, that because he has not bent to power and authority, because he would not bow down before the golden calf and worship it, he is to be bound and cast into the furnace, I do trust in God that there is a redeeming spirit in the constitution, which will be seen to walk with the sufferer through the flames, and to preserve him unhurt by the conflagration. A SKETCH OF CURRAN. The personal appearance and manner of Curraii have been thus described by his friend and biographer, C. Phillips : " Mr. Curran was of short stature, with a swarthy complexion, and ' an eye that glowed like a live coal.' His coun- tenance was singularly expressive, and as he stood before a jury, he not only read their hearts with a searching glance, but he gave them back his own in all the fluctuations of his feelings, from laughter to tears. His gesture was bold and impassioned ; his articulation was uncom- monly distinct and deliberate ; the modulations of his voice were varied in a high degree, and perfectly suited to the widest range of his eloquence." LORD STANLEY. Born 1826. Living. anley, the eldest son of tho present Earl of Derby, is better known as a statesman and adminis- trator than as an orator. Nevertheless, his speeches, both in and out of Parliament, are so representative of that luminous insight which he has brought to bear on all the great political questions of his age, and so suggest- ive, from the practical sagacity with which they abound, that no work attempting to exhibit tho Parliamentary eloquence of tho present time would be complete with- out some illustration of his style. The present extract forms the greater part of a speech delivered in tho Town Hall of King's Lynn on the 19th of October, 18(54, before a large number of the electors and non-electors of that borough, for which he has been member for many years past. Though treating chiefly of ques- tions of the day, and the existing relations of political affairs, the speech may be looked on and studied as a fine model for the clear survey and unflinching account of his stewardship which every enlightened representa- tive should be prepared to offer to his constituents when public occasion requires them at his hands. Any criti- cism on the oratorical style of Lord Stanley will be best afforded by posterity. The following speech has been, by the extreme courtesy of Lord Stanley, revised before publication in this volume.] SPEECH AT KING'S LYXN, 19m OCT. 1864. MR. MAYOR and gentlemen ; I have come here for the purpose of addressing to you a few remarks on the present state of public affairs, in accordance with a promise made long ago and at the request of many here present whom I hope I may reckon among my friends. I say this that I may not seem to occupy your tii" unnecessarily md I suppose I need offer iii- w~ou.se for no. i ia , ug stood betoreyou in this room either last autumn or the autumn before. The truth is, that the last three years, however eventful in the history of Europe and of Ame- rica, have been years of singular peace and calm, as regards the people of these islands. It is not difficult to see to what that peace has been owing. Great material prosperity ; absence in general of distress among the people, with one notable exception, and in that case it was dis- tress relieved with a care and success never wit- nessed before on so large a scale ; a well-founded belief that any measure really called for by public opinion will be passed, and that so far our con- stitution answers the purpose for which it was framed ; the removal in the last thirty years of nearly all the principal grievances which in the days of the old Reform Bill stirred men's minds; stirring events abroad drawing off attention from home affairs ; perhaps also a kind of politi- cal scepticism encouraged, if not created, by the success of a government which is practically absolute in France ; and by the crisis through which the greatest republic of the world is pass- ing ; these in my mind are the causes of the state of things which exists now, which perplexes politicians of the old school, and disgusts those who confound agitation with progress. Some of these causes, no doubt, are temporary ; but others are permanent in their character. I do not expect the absolute calm of the last four or five years to continue ; but neither do I believe we shall return to the somewhat feverish and exci- ted condition of the public mind which prevailed with few intermissions from 1830 to the time of the Crimean war. Nor do I, for my part, regret this. It is quite right to ascertain from time to time that your house is in good order, the foundation safe and the roof water-tight ; but a man may do that without passing his life in ex- amining every crack in the plaster and testing the soundness of every plank and beam ; or, to put it in another way, I would say that those are not the healthiest men who are always think- ing about their health. And, as it is with indi- viduals, so it is with states. Political institu- tions are a means and not an end ; and if peace is kept abroad, if life and property arc protected at home, if the revenue is fairly collected and economically spent, and if individual freedom is left to every man, as far as is consistent with the rights of others, to do the best he can for himself and his neighbours, I believe the state has discharged the principal functions which it can with advantage undertake. And I think in our day it is one of the duties of a man of sense, whether he calls himself a Liberal or a Conservative, to watch that the state does not, as all continental governments without an excep- tion do, extend its control far beyond those 160 THE ORATOR. which are its legitimate and natural occupations. Now let me say after this preface that I do not mean to ask you to follow me in what is called a review of the session. What is done is done, and neither praise nor fault-finding can alter it. We may, then, leave the past alone ; our busi- ness is with the present and with the future. There is only one past debate to which I shall refer, and I notice it because it seems likely, in a great degree, to influence the present policy of the country. We had a discussion last July on the conduct of foreign affairs. The ostensible object of that debate was to take the sense of the House as to whether the Danish negotiations had been mismanaged; but the object with which many members went into it, I among the rest, was to obtain from Parliament a distinct and decided expression of opinion in favour of a policy of non-intervention in continental dis- putes. In that we perfectly succeeded. The feeling upon that point came nearer to unani- mity than I ever recollect to have been the case in Parliament upon any occasion equally important. I believe the feeling of the country went the same way, and unless I greatly mistake, the debate of July, 1864, will mark the beginning of a new epoch in the history of British diplomacy. Only do not let us feel too confident that the victory is gained. We have everybody's reason, with very few exceptions, in favour of a policy of peace ; but cases are likely to arise in which the feelings and political passions of many men will be on the other side ; and caution and care will still be necessary, lest what has been gained in 1864 should be lost in future years. Now, perhaps, I ought to guard myself in speaking of a policy of non-intervention. I do not mean that England should never give advice nor ever express an opinion upon questions not affecting her own interests ; but I say that that should be done without menace, or the semblance of menace; it should be done in such a way as not to hold out hopes to one party, or threats to another, that force is intended to be used. Inasmuch, too, as under such circumstances, advice which is importunately obtruded is likely to be received with no great respect, I think it ought to be given only on rare and important occasions, when there is a reasonable hope that the parties concerned may be willing to accept it, or when the national conscience and feeling requires a protest on the part of our Government. Now there are at this time four leading questions in public affairs, which are likely to occupy attention for some years to come : First, there is the American war, as to which the duty of strict and absolute neutrality is, to my mind, plain ; and, for my part, I do not wish to violate that neutrality, even to the extent of an impression of sympathy with one eide or with the other. I speak of it simply as an observer, and if I were to venture upon prediction, which is always hazardous, I should say that I see no prospect of its early close. When two nations are worked up to a pitch of mutual hatred in which their own losses cease to affect them, if only they can inflict a greater loss upon the enemy, nothing will separate them except the utter exhaustion of one or the other. The time for that has not yet come. Neither party, as I believe, is half beaten yet ; and considering the determination which the North has shown, I think it likely, as I did three years ago, that with their enormous superiority of force, they will occupy and over- run in the end the whole territory of the South. The North may succeed so far as to gratify their feeling of revenge and their desire of supremacy; but when they have clone thp.t their political difficulties will begin. I cannot realise the manner in which a republican com- munity of 20,000,000 can hold consistently with its own principles of government, or indeed with any principles of free government, another com- munity of 6,000,000 or 7,000,000, utterly dis- affected to their rule. That is the real per- plexity of the American future. As to the drain of men and money, I do not think, in comparison, much of it. The overflow of Europe will fill up all gaps in the popu- lation, and although I should be almost equally sorry to be a creditor either of the North or of the South, yet a country with the gigantic natural resources of America cannot be permanently ruined. All we can do all we ought to do is to let them fight it out. We are not in any way responsible for the war ; we did not make it or advise it ; and we know for certain that any offer of English mediation would be repelled as an insult, and probably be ascribed to interested motives. Our concern in the question, as the thing has turned out, is really more one of humanity than of self- interest. Taking into account the state of the markets in 1860, and setting against the cotton famine the opening of new markets elsewhere, and the gain to India, I doubt if, on the whole, we have been serious losers by this war. There is next the question of Italy ; and as to that, I think we see our way more clearly than we did two or three years since. The Italian people have undoubtedly shown moderation and good sense under considerable difficulties ; and they have their reward, for I think it is impossible to doubt that Rome, or at least the Roman territory, will pass into their hands at no very distant date. The late arrangement with France comes to this that the Pope may hold his own if he can, his debts being paid for him, and time being given him to organize an army of his own. Now even if the Italian Government were dis- posed to observe that treaty strictly, and pro- bably they will observe it only in the letter, THE OEATOK. 161 they cannot prevent a rising in Eome itself, and they cannot prevent over that extent of frontier, money, and arms, and volunteers being poured in. And then the question remains whether any army which the Pope can maintain on his own account, supported as he may be indirectly by Austria and Spain, but not openly assisted by any European state, will suffice to put down a rising. I do not think we in England can easily understand the extreme importance which the Italians attach to the possession of what, after all, is an unhealthy and decaying town, possessing no peculiar military or commercial advantages, and with nothing to recommend it except an historical name. But if they think it worth while on that account to quarrel with the bulk of their clergy (who form in Italy a powerful class) and their adherents, and to incur the ill-will of the Catholic powers, I think the choice will shortly be in their own hands. For Venice they will have to wait considerably longer. It is impossible that they can long maintain an army upon its present footing ; they are at this moment spending 50 per cent, above their income, and the alternative before them is plain either to disarm in part and to adopt frankly a policy of peace, or to involve them- selves in a fresh war with Austria, the issue of which would be exceedingly doubtful. For my own part, accepting Italy as a fact, and wishing well to its people and government, I hope they will adopt the former and not the latter course. Most states desire to extend their frontiers, but it is a bad bargain to do that at the cost of national bankruptcy ; and if to accomplish that object they have, as they probably would have, to call in foreign aid, they would almost certainly be expected to pay for it in the same way that they did before, and that would, I think, be a transaction not very edifying on the score of political morality, and not very con- ducive to the maintenance of tranquillity in Europe. There is another part of Europe in which we shall probably see great changes before long I mean Germany. It is clear that the clumsy scheme of a German Federation has in practice broken down, and it is equally clear that the mutual rivalry of Austria and Prussia, to say nothing of the jealousies of foreign powers, will make it impossible for all Germany to be united for any purpose or in any manner as a single community. The only remaining alter- native is either that the smaller states should unite among themselves for purposes of mutual protection, in which case they would be depen- dent upon France to a great extent, or that, according to their geographical position and their political tendencies, they should connect themselves, some with Austria and some with Prussia, so as to be, for diplomatic and military purposes, practically annexed to those countries. The latter alternative is, in my opinion, the NO. XXI. more likely one to be the result ; and in that case I sincerely hope that England will not in- terfere, even by her advice, to prevent it. The existence of those petty German sovereignties is useless : they multiply, as we have seen, the risk of war ; they serve, as far as I can perceive, no single political purpose ; and the sooner they disappear from the map of Europe, in my judg- ment, the better. The fourth^uestion of which I spoke is that of the East. It does not press at this moment, and therefore I shall only touch it in passing. I believe the breaking up of the Turkish empire to be only a question of time, and probably not of a very long time. The Turks have played their part in history ; they have had their day, but that day is over; and I confess I do not understand, except it be from the influence of old diplomatic traditions, the determination of our older statesmen to stand by Turkish rule, whether it be right or wrong. I think we are making for ourselves enemies of races which will very soon become in eastern countries the dominant; we are keeping back countries by whose improvement we, as the great traders of the world, shall be the principal gainers; and we are doing this for no earthly ad- vantage, either present or prospective. I admit that England has an interest, and a very strong one, in the neutrality of Egypt ; and some in- terest also, although to a less extent, in Con- stantinople not falling into the hands of any great European power ; but these two points set aside, I can conceive no injury arising to Great Britain from any transfer of power which may affect the Turkish empire ; and, although that is not a practical question at the present moment, I have a very strong idea that before long it will become so. Now, in regard to colo- nial matters, apart from two questions one, that of the African settlements, and the other that of colonial defences, on both of which I shall touch as matters of finance there is only one subject which need interest us greatly at home, I mean the relations among themselves of the colonies composing the two great groups of Australia and of British North America. In British North America there is a strong move- ment now in progress in favour of federation or rather, in favour of union in some shape. In Australia the same feeling is beginning to arise, though it has not expressed itself so strongly, or assumed so practical a form. I think that both in one case and in the other that tendency ought to be encouraged. We know, whatever our wish about it may be, that those colonies must at no very distant date be independent states. We have no interest except in their strength and well-being. We see practically in America the danger of a federal union, hastily and loosely patched up between separate and sovereign states, each naturally jealous of :ts own independence We have in practice settled M ] 162 THE ORATOR. the relations of the colonies to the mother coun- try ; and the work remaining to us to do is to help them to settle their relations with one another. By so doing we shall strengthen the British empire, while they remain connected with us, and when they cease to be our depen- dencies we shall obtain more cordial and more powerful allies. I do not know if it is worth while to mention here that unlucky quarrel which has sprung up between the home autho- rities and those of Australia on the subject of transportation. The case is briefly this : we continue to send a certain number of convicts yearly to "Western Australia. That we have an undoubted right to do, and the West Australians themselves do not complain. But when the sentences of these men are expired, they emigrate to the other Australian colonies, and they intro- duce there a dangerous andadegraded population. Against that the inhabitants of those other colonies protest, and they say (I think with perfect truth) that if you turn these men loose upon any part of that continent, they are sure to find their way to every other. Now, there is some irritation I am afraid I must say a great deal of irritation on this subject, and I think not unreasonably, and I mention it because it seems to me that this is a matter on which it would be utter folly for England to stand upon her legal rights. We know that before long the West Australians themselves will object, as all the other colonists have done, to receive our felons. When that happens, we must discon- tinue sending them. It is only, therefore, a question of sending them for a few years, and the number whom we so send out is small. Under these circumstances, I think it would be wise for the English Government to yield at once, and to declare that transportation to Australia shall cease. They will have to make that concession, at any rate, before long ; and it is surely wiser and better to do it while we can do it freely and with a good grace. # * * * Now, there is one question of great import- ance at all times, but one on which you will hardly expect me to enter into detail to-day I mean that which relates to the franchise. It is useless to discuss that matter until we know whether anything is likely to be done or at- tempted in that direction by the present Cabi- net. How that may be I do not know, and possibly at this moment they themselves do not. Bat I do know this that while a very small measure would not satisfy that party from whom the demand for action proceeds, a large measure is quite impossible to be carried, except in a state of popular feeling very different from that which exists at the present moment. It is quite idle to think that where the question in dispute is the transfer of power from one class to another, you can settle the matter after a little friendly discussion in a way that will satisfy everybody. Any man who expects that will be disappointed. There are many persons here who remember the year 1832. At that time the whole of the middle and lower classes, with the exception of an inconsiderable minority, were on one side, and on the other only a few hundred persons interested in the maintenance of the rotten boroughs. Yet that Reform Bill was not carried without a struggle, which agi- tated the country from one end to the other. It is not the upper, it is the middle class, the owners of the greater part of the property of the country, and by far the most powerful class in it, that exercises political supremacy at the present day. They are not likely to part with that of their own free will (at least if they do, it will be a thing new in history), and I see no such movement on the part of the working classes as would be likely to overbear that re- sistance which must be expected. I do not think that the Conservative party have anything to reproach themselves with on this subject. They were expected by Pai'liament and by the public to make in 1858-9 some proposal which should be in the nature of a compromise. They made it, they failed, and they withdrew from power. Their successors have made a similar attempt ; they failed also, and they have stayed where they were. Now, my opinions on this question are what they were in 1859 ; but if it is to be dealt with at all, it cannot be settled without a dissolution of Parliament, and there- fore any person who may want to have from mo a detailed explanation of what I should or what I should not support will be quite sure to have his opportunity. But it does not follow, even if this whole question be left untouched, that Parliament need remain idle. We have a vast mass of miscellaneous work on hand, quite enough to occupy our attention for years to come. Our law still, after many reforms, per- haps the most cumbrous and complicated in Europe, wants to be consolidated and simplified. That is a process involving, no doubt, labour, and requiring that it should be placed in the hands of persons in whom Parliament shall have confidence ; but otherwise it is a task not especially difficult. We have that extraordinary system of purchased commissions in the army, which I firmly expect to see done away with, at least so far as regai'ds the higher grades. We have the question of parish or union rating for Poor Law purposes ; and connected with that is that intricate problem of the law of set- tlement. We know that the administration of our great public charities is faulty, and I cannot conceive of a better investment of time and labour than would be a Parliamentary inquiry into at least the chief of them, with a view to utilize the immense resources at their disposal. We have a licensing system which satisfies no- THE ORATOR. body, and the reform of which was recommended by a committee of the House of Commons ten years ago. In Ireland and Scotland the laws which regulate marriage are in a state only fit for a barbarous country. It cannot be said that what is called the private legislation of Parliament is in a condition altogether satisfac- tory, though, as to that, I must frankly admit that though I see the evil, I do not find it easy to suggest a remedy. Then our patent laws want amending, if the privilege of grant- ing patents for inventions is to be retained, and that is in itself a question for serious discussion. A Commission has been ap- pointed, on which I have the honour to sit, to inquire into the laws relating to capital punish- ment. And, whatever opinion may exist as to the limits within which that punishment should be inflicted, I think almost everyone agrees as to the inconvenience of having cases, as they are now, privately tried over again in the Home Office, after they have been publicly tried by a judge and jury. Well, I might go on almost indefinitely with a list of questions that require to be dealt with or discussed; but these arc enough as a sample. You will see that there is plenty of work which you may put upon us, and I only wish that you, the constituencies, would look a little more sharply after us, and make sure that we do it. Idleness is not Con- servatism; economy and administrative improve- ment are just as much the interest of those classes whose position and associations render them Conservative as of any others ; and if, as I believe, the country does not desire organic change, it as little wishes for a state of utter lethargy and stagnation. Regulated activity disarms agitation ; apathy and neglect create it. And now, gentlemen, you will be glad to hear that I am drawing to a close of what has neces- sarily been a very long and I fear a very tedious survey. I am not fond of long speeches ; my only excuse must be that the ground to be tra- velled over is extensive, and that in view of an election, and probably of a contest, I do not want any voter in this town to say that he has been either deluded or left in the dark \as to the opinions of his representative. There are two classes of subjects which I have left un- touched : those relating to India, which, how- ever important, I could not make interesting, or, perhaps, even intelligible, to gentlemen who may hear of them for the first time ; and ques- tions relating to ecclesiastical subjects, in regard to which, although there may be a good deal of talk, it docs not seem to me that Parliament is inclined to take any active step. But as to those, or indeed any other matters within my power, I shall be glad to answer any questions that may be put to me. ^fscciy politics, as you know, I do not deal in upon these occasions. In the House of Commons, it is almost inevi- table, if a man wishes to do anything, that he should act with a political party ; but there lias never been a time in my memory when mere party spirit had so little life in it. The reason, I believe, is this, that between moderate Con- servatives and moderate Liberals, the differences are slight, and those who represent extreme opinions on either side were never fewer, and never exercised less influence than at present. There may be an extreme Tory party, though I never saw it, nor do I know what its views are. There is, no doubt, a Democratic party, but it is a small minority in the House of Commons. All between represents shades of opinion which merge almost imperceptibly into one another, the most reasonable men, in my belief, being generally found near the middle. That is a state of things which is embarrassing to many people, but not^so far as I can see, injurious to the country^Xlt may be that those who are now in wha*l is called opposition, may be called upon to take their turn of power. If they are, I hope and believe that they will use it wisely. But one advantage I am afraid they will not have I greatly doubt whether they will be treated with as much patience and as much forbearance as during the last five years has been exhibited by them towards their rivals. But, whoever may administer affairs, it is opinion that governs. /Opinion is the stream, and politicians, with all respect to them, are the straws that float upon it. It is opinion that governs, and I believe the opinion in England was never more moderate than now in regard to home affairs ; never more resolute as to the maintenance of peace abroad ; never more wil- ling to deal with practical and proved abuses ; but never less inclined to undervalue the^nerits of the institutions under which we livpi' And now, once more, let me apologise for me length of this address ; let me thank you for the kind- ness of your reception ; and let me express a hope that the political tie which now connects us may long remain unbroken. Broken by my fault I hope it may not be ; broken by my choice I assure you it never shall be. SHERIDAN, ON BURKE. "To whom I look up with homage whoso genius is commensurate with his philanthropy, whose memory will stretch beyond the fleeting objects of any little partial temporary shuffling, through the whole range of human knowledge, and honourable aspirations after human good, as large as the system which forms life, as large as those objects which adorn it a gentleman whose abilities, happily for the glory of the age in which we live, arc not entrusted to the perishable eloquence of the day, but will live to be the admiration of that hour vrhcn all of us shall be mute, and most of us forgotten." 164 THE ORATOR. THOMAS WENTWGETH, EARL OF 8TRAFFORD. Born 1593. Died 1641. [Thomas Wentworth, the ill-fated Earl of Strafford, came of an ancient family in Yorkshire, and was created a peer by Charles I. For a time, his high genius asso- ciated itself with the popular cause ; but it afterwards fell under the fatal influences of the Court, and he then advocated some of its most despotic measures. His career and fall are alike too much matter of history to be enlarged on here. Suffice it to say, that he was, in 1640, accused by the popular party in the Commons of an attempt to subvert the fundamental laws of the realm, and the impeachment was carried up to the bar of the House of Lords on the 18th of November in the same year. Subsequently a Bill of Attainder was passed against him, and, abandoned by his king, he suffered death on the scaffold, 12th May, 1641. What follows hero is his last defence before the House of Lords. We are indebted to the admirable work on British Elo- quence, by Dr. Goodrich, an American author, for the arrangement and annotation of this speech.] DEFENCE BEFOPE THE HOUSE OF LOBDS, 13iH OF APRIL, 1641 * TY LORDS, This day I stand before you charged with high treason. The burden of the charge is heavy, yet far the more so because it hath borrowed the authority of the House of Commons. If they were not interested, I might expect a no less easy, than I do a safe, issue. But let neither my weakness plead my innocence, nor their power my guilt. If your lordships will conceive of my defences, as they arc in themselves, without reference to either party and I shall endeavour so to present them I hope to go hence as clearly justified by you, as I now am in the testimony of a good conscience by myself. My lords, I have all along, during this charge, watched to see that poisoned arrow of treason, which some men would fain have feathered in my heart ; but, in truth, it hath not been my quickness to discover any such evil yet within my breast, though now, perhaps, by sinister information, sticking to my clothes. They tell nie of a twofold treason, one against the statute, another by the common law; this direct, that consecutive; this individual, that accumulative ; this in itself, that by way of con- struction. As to this charge of treason, I must and do acknowledge, that if I had the least suspicion of my own guilt, I would save your lordships the pains. I would cast the first stone. I would pass the first sentence of condemnation against myself. And whether it be so or not, I now refer to your lordships' judgment and delibera- tion. You, and you only, under the care and * There are in the Parliamentary History two reports of this speech one by Whitlocke, and the other by some unknown friend of Strafford. As each has im- portant passages which are not contained in the other, they are here combined by a slight modification of language, in order to give more completeness to this masterly defence. protection of my gracious master, are my judges. Under favour, none of the Commons are my peers, nor can they be my judges. I shall ever celebrate the providence and wisdom of your noble ancestors, who have put the keys of life and death, so far as concerns you and your posterity, into your own hands. None but your own selves, my lords, know the rate of your noble blood; none but yourselves must hold the balance in disposing of the same.* I shall now proceed in repeating my defences as they are reducible to the two main points of treason. And, I. For treason against the statute, which is the only treason in effect, there is nothing alleged for that but the fifteenth, twenty- second, and twenty-seventh articles. [Here the Earl brought forward the replies which he had previously made to these articles, which contained all the charges of individual acts of treason. The fifteenth article affirmed that he had "inverted the or- dinary course of justice in Ireland, and given imme- diate sentence upon the lands and goods of the King's subjects, under pretence of disobedience ; had used a military way for redressing the contempt, and laid sol- diers upon the lauds and goods of the King's subjects, to their utter ruin." There was a deficiency of proofs as to the facts alleged. The Earl declared that " the customs of England differed exceedingly from those of Ireland ; and therefore, though cessing of men might seem strange here, it was not so there ; " and that " nothing was more common there than for the gover- nors to appoint soldiers to put all manner of sentences into execution," as he proved by the testimony of Lord Dillon, Sir Adam Loftus, and Sir Arthur Teringham. The twenty- seventh article charged him with having, as lieutenant-general, charged on the county of York eightpence a day for supporting the train-bands of said county during one month, when called out ; and having issued his warrants without legal authority for the collection of the same. The Earl replied that " this money was freely and voluntarily offered by them of Yorkshire, in a petition ; and that he had done nothing but on the petition of the county, the King's special command, and the connivance, at least, of the Great Council, and upon a present necessity for the defence and safety of the county, when about to be in- vaded from Scotland." The twenty-second and twenty-third articles were the most pressing. Under these he was charged with saying in the Privy Council that "the Parliament had forsaken the King ; that the King ought not to suffer himself to bo overmastered by the stubbornness of the people ; and that, if his Majesty pleased to employ forces, he had some in Ireland that might serve to reduce this kingdom," thus counselling to his Majesty to put down Parliament, and subvert the fundamental laws of the kingdom by force and arms. To this tho Earl replied, (1.) That there was only one witness adduced to prove these words, viz., Sir Henry Vane, secretary of the Council, but that two or more wit- * Strafford had no chance of acquittal except by in- ducing the Lords, from a regard to their dignity and safety, to rise above the influence of the Commons as his prosecutors, and of the populace who surrounded Westminster Hall by thousands, demanding his con- demnation. In this view, his exordium has admirable dexterity and force. Ho reverts to the same topic in his peroration, assuring them, with the deepest earnest- ness and solemnity (and, as the event showed, with perfect truth), that if they gave him up, they must expect to perish with him in the general ruiu of the peerage. THE ORATOR. 165 nesses are necessary by statute to prove a charge of treason. (2.) That the others who were present, viz., the Duke of Northumberland, the Marquis of Hamil- ton, Lord Cottington, and Sir Thomas Lucas, did not, as they deposed under oath, remember these words. (3.) That Sir Henry Vane had given his testimony as if he was in doubt on the subject, saying " as 1 do re- member," and " such or such like words," which ad- mitted the words might bo " tliat kingdom," meaning Scotland.] II. As to the other kind, viz., constructive treason, or treason by way of accumulation; to make this oat, many articles have been brought against me, as if in a heap of mere felonies or misdemeanours (for they reach no higher) there could lurk some prolific seed to produce what is treasonable ! But, my lords, when a thousand misdemeanours will not make one felony, shall twenty-eight mis- demeanours be heightened into treason ? I pass, however, to consider these charges, which affirm that I have designed the over- throw both of religion and of the State. 1. The first charge seemeth to be used rather to make me odious than guilty ; for there is not the least proof alleged nor could there be any concerning my confederacy with the Popish faction. Never was a servant in authority under my lord and master more hated and maligned by these men than myself, and that for an im- partial and strict execution of the laws against them ; for observe, my lords, that the greater number of the witnesses against me, whether from Ireland or from Yorkshire, were of that religion. But for my own resolution, I thank God I am ready every hour of the day to seal my dissatisfaction to the Church of B/ome with my dearest blood. Give me leave, my lords, here to pour forth the grief of my soul before you. These pro- ceedings against me seem to be exceeding rigorous, and to have more of prejudice than equity that upon a supposed charge of hypo- crisy or errors in religion, I should be made so odious to three kingdoms. A great many thousand eyes have seen my accusations, whose ears will never hear that, when it came to the upshot, those very things were not alleged against me ! Is this fair dealing among Chris- tians ? But I have lost nothing by that. Popular applause was ever nothing in my con- ceit. The uprightness and integrity of a good conscience ever was, and ever shall be, my continual feast ; and if I can be justified in your lordships' judgments from this great imputation as I hope I am, seeing these gentlemen have thrown down the bucklers I shall account myself justified by the whole kingdom, because absolved by you who are the better part, the very soul and life of the kingdom. 2. As for my designs against the State, I dare plead as much innocency as in the matter of religion. I have ever admired the wisdom of our ancestors, who have so fixed the pillars of this monarchy that each of them keeps a due proportion and measure with the others have so admirably bound together the nerves and sinews of the State, that the straining of any one may bring danger and sorrow to the whole economy. The prerogative of the Crown and the propriety of the subject have such natural relations, that this takes nourishment from that, and that foundation and nourishment from this. And so, as in the lute, if any one string be wound up too high or too low, you have lost the whole harmony ; so here the excess of pre- rogative is oppression of pretended liberty in the subject is disorder and anarchy. The pre- rogative must be used as God doth His omni- potence, upon extraordinary occasions ; the laws must have place at all other times. As there must be prerogative because there must be extraordinary occasions, so the propriety of the subject is ever to be maintained, if it go in equal pace with the other. They are fellows and companions that are, and ever must be, insepa- rable in a well-ordered kingdom ; and no way is so fitting, so natural to nourish and entertain both, as the frequent use of Parliaments, by which a commerce and acquaintance is kept up between the King and his subjects.* These thoughts have gone along with me these fourteen years of my public employments, and shall, God willing, go with me to the grave ! God, his Majesty, and my own conscience, yea, and all of those who have been most accessory to my inward thoughts, can bear me witness that I ever did inculcate this, that the happi- ness of a kingdom doth consist in a just poise of the King's prerogative and the subject's liberty, and that things could never go well till these went hand in hand together. I thank God for it, by my master's favour, and the pro- vidence of my ancestors, I have an estate which so interests me in the commonwealth, that I have no great mind to be a slave, but a subject. Nor could I wish the""cards to be shuffled over again, in hopes to fall upon a better set ; nor did I ever nourish such base and mercenary thoughts as to become a pander to the tyranny and ambition of the greatest man living. No ! I have, and ever shall, aim at a fair but bounded liberty ; remembering always that I am a free- man, yet a subject that I have rights, but under a monarch. It hath been my misfortune, now when I am grey-headed, to be charged by the mistakers of the times, who are so highly bent that all appears to them to be in the ex- treme for monarchy which is not for themselves. Hence it is, that designs, words, yea, intentions, are brought out as demonstrations of my mis- * Strafford was generally regarded as the secret author of the King s aversion to Parliaments, which had led him to dispense with their use for many years. Hence the above declaration, designed to relieve him from the eflects of this prejudice. 16G THE OEATOR. demeanours. Such a multiplying-glass is a prejudicate opinion ! The articles against me refer to expressions and actions my expressions either in Ireland or in England, my actions either before or after these late stirs. (1.) Some of the expressions referred to were uttered in private, and I do protest against their being drawn to my injury in this place. If, my lords, words spoken to friends in familiar dis- course, spoken at one's table, spoken in one's chamber, spoken in one's sick bed, spoken, per- haps, to gain better reason, to gain one's self more clear light and judgment by reasoning if these things shall be brought against a man as treason, this (under favour) takes away the com- fort of all human society. By this means we shall be debarred from speaking the principal joy and comfort of life with wise and good men, to become wiser and better ourselves. If these things be strained to take away life, and honour, and all that is desirable, this will bo a silent world ! A city will become a hermitage, and sheep will be found among a crowd and press of people ! No man will dare to impart his solitary thoughts or opinions to his friend and neighbour ! Other expressions have been urged against me, which were used in giving counsel to the King. My lords, these words were not wantonly or unnecessarily spoken, or whispered in a corner ; they were spoken in full council, when, by the duty of my oath, I was obliged to speak according to my heart and conscience in all things concerning the King's service. If I had forborne to speak what I conceived to be for the benefit of the King and the people, I had been perjured toward Almighty God. And for de- livering my mind openly and freely, shall I be in danger of my life as a traitor ? If that necessity be put upon me, I thank God, by His blessing, I have learned not to stand in fear of him who can only kill the body. If the question be whether I must be traitor to man or perjured to God, I will be faithful to my Creator. And whatsoever shall befall me from popular rage or my own weakness, I must leave it to that Almighty Being, and to the justice and honour of my judges. My lords, I conjure you not to make your- selves so unhappy as to disable your lordships and your children from undertaking the great charge and trust of this commonwealth. You inherit that trust from your fathers. You are born to great thoughts. You are nursed for the weighty employments of the kingdom. But if it be once admitted that a counsellor, for delivering his opinion with others at the council board, candide ct cast", with candour and purity of motive, under an oath of secrecy and faithful- ness, shall be brought into question, iipon some misapprehension or ignorance of law if every word that he shall speak from sincere and noble intentions shall be drawn against him for the attainting of him, his children and posterity I know not (under favour I speak it) any wise or noble person of fortune who will, upon such perilous and unsafe terms, adventure to be counsellor to the King. Therefore I beseech your lordships s'o to look on me, that my mis- fortune may not bring an inconvenience to yourselves. And though my words were not so advised and discreet, or so well weighed as they ought to have been, yet I trust your lordships are too honourable and just to lay them to my charge as high treason. Opinions may make a heretic, but that they make a traitor I have never heard till now. (2.) I am come next to speak of the actions which have been charged upon me. [Here tho Earl went through with the various overt acts alleged, and repeated the sum and heads of what had been spoken by him before. In respect to the twenty-eighth article, which charged him with " a ma- licious design to engage the kingdoms of England and Scotland in a national and bloody war/' but which tho managers had not urged in the trial, he added more at large, as follows :] If that one article had been proved against me, it contained more weighty matter than all the charges besides. It would not only have been treason, but villainy, to have betrayed the trust of his Majesty's army. But as the ma- nagers have been sparing, by reason of the times, as to insisting on that article, I have resolved to keep the same method, and not utter the least expression which might disturb the happy agreement intended between the two kingdoms. I only admire how I, being an in- cendiary against the Scots in the twenty-third article, am become a confederate with them in the twenty -eighth article ! how I could be charged for betraying Newcastle, and also for fighting with the Scots at Newburne, since fighting against them was no possible means of betraying the town into their hands, but rather to hinder their passage thither ! I never advised war any further than, in my poor judg- ment, it concerned the very life of the King's authority, and the safety and honour of his kingdom. Nor did I ever see that any advan- tage could be made by a war in Scotland, where nothing could be gained but hard blows. For my part, I honour that nation, but I wish they may ever be under their own climate. I have no desire that they should be too well acquainted with the better soil of England. My lords, yon sec what has been alleged for this constructive, or rather destructive, treason. For my part, I have not the judgment to con- ceive that such treason is agreeable to the fun- damental grounds either of reason or of law. Not of reason, for how can that be treason in the lump or mass, which is nob so in any of its parts ? or how can that make a thing treason- THE ORATOR. 167 able which is not so in itself? Not of law, since neither statute, common law, nor practice hath frcrn the beginning of the government ever mentioned such a thing. ^ It is hard, my lords, to bo questioned upon a law which cannot be shown ! Where hath this fir,e lain hid for so many hundred years, without smoke to discover it, till it thus bursts forth to consume me and ray children ? My lords, do we not live under laws ? and must we lie punished by laws before they are made? Far better were it to live by no laws at all ; but to be governed by those characters of virtue and discretion which Nature hath stamped upon us, than to put this necessity of divination upon a man, and to accuse him of a breach of law before it is a law at all ! If a waterman upon the Thames split his boat by grating upon an anchor, and the same have no buoy appended to it, the owner of the anchor is to pay the loss; but if a buoy be set there, every man passeth upon his own peril. Now, where is the mark, where is the token set upon the crime, to declare it to be high treason ? $/ My lords, be pleased to give that regard to the peerage of England as never to expose your- selves to such moot points such constructive interpretations of law. If there must be a trial of wits, let the subject matter be something else than the lives and honour of peers ! It will be wisdom for yourselves and your posterity to cast into the fire these bloody and mysterious volumes of constructive and arbitrary treason, as the primitive Christians did their books of curious arts ; and betake yourselves to the plain letter of the law and statute, which telleth what is and what is not treason, without being ambitious to be more learned in the art of killing than our forefathers. These gentlemen tell us that they speak in defence of the commonwealth against my arbitrary laws. Give me leave to say it, I speak in defence of the commonwealth against their arbitrary treason ! It is now full two hundred and forty years since any man was touched for this alleged crime to this height before myself. Let us not awaken those sleeping lions to our destruction, by taking up a few musty records that have lain by the walls for so many ages, forgotten or neglected. ij0tr Sly lords, what is my present misfortune *' may be for ever yours ! It is not the smallest part of my grief that not the crime of treason, but my other sins, which are exceeding many, have brought me to this bar ; and, except your lordships' wisdom provide against it, the shed- ding of my blood may make way for the tracing out of yours. Yg&^yom estates, your posterity, lie at the stake ! For my poor self, if it were not for your lordships' interest, and the interest of a saint in heaven, who hath* left me here tasLpledgcs on earth [at this hi* breath stopped, and he shed tears abundantly in mentioning his wife] I should never take the pains to keep up this ruinous cottage of mine. It is loaded with such infirmities, that in truth I have no great pleasure to carry it about with me any longer. Nor could I ever leave it at a fitter time than this, when I hope that the better part of the world would perhaps think that by my misfortunes I had given a testimony of my integrity to my God, my King, and my country. I thank God, I count not the afflictions of the present life to be compared to that glory which is to be re- vealed in the time to come \ My lords ! my lords ! m^Jlords ! something- more I had intended to say, but my voice and my spirit fail me. Only I do in all humility and submission cast myself down at your lord- ships' feet, and desire that I may be a beacon to keep you from shipwreck. Do not put such rocks in your own way, which no prudence, no circum- spection can eschew or satisfy, but by your utter ruin ! And so, my lords, even so, with all tran- quillity of mind, I submit myself to your decision . And whether your judgment in my case I wish it were not the case of you all be for life or for death, it shall be righteous in my eyes, and shall be received with a Te Deum laudamiis, we give God the praise. EDMUND BURKE. Born 1730. Died 1797. [The magnificent speech which follows this note was delivered by Burke, in the House of Commons, on the 28th February, 1785, and remains as one of the finest memorials of its author's genius. The occasion of its delivery was a memorable debate arising out of a motion made by Fox, relative to the affairs of the East India Company. Certain debts, amounting in all to an enor- mous sum of money, having been alleged to bo due from the Nabob of Arcot to some of the Company's servants, for various services conferred on that potentate over a long period of years, and the claim having been admitted by the Board of Control, Fox attempted, by his motion, to arrest the payment. Pitt, how- ever, was at that time Prime Minister ; and despite the combined energies of Burke and Fox, the motion was defeated, and the ministry victorious. It was, however, in a great measure, in consequence of the failure of Fox's motion in this matter that Burke proceeded to the last great labour of his life the impeachment of Warren Hastings many of the grounds for which impeachment may be dis- covered from a careful reading of the speech we have here reprinted. Though extending to a great length, tiio speech, with the exception of certain portions, which, being almost purely statistical, have been omitted from our pages, is here reproduced in its entirety ; and where it has been found absolutely necessary to curtail it, an attempt has been made to supply the omission by a short resumS, which, it is hoped, will leave the reader in full possession of the thread of the discourse, without burdening him with too elaborate figures and details. It may be remarked here, that this speech is one of those especially recommended by Lord Brougham for the study of the young orator. See page 2 of this work.] ON THE NABOB OF AECOT'S DEBTS. MR. SPEAKER: The times we live in have been distinguished by extraordinary evente. Habituated, however, as we are, to 168 THE ORATOR. uncommon combinations of men and of affairs, I believe nobody recollects anything more sur- prising than the spectacle of this day. The right hon. gentleman (Henry Dundas) whose conduct is now in question formerly stood forth in this house the prosecutor of the worthy baronet (Sir T. Rumbold) who spoke after him. He charged him with several grievous acts of malversation in office ; with abuses of a public trust of a great and heinous nature. ' In less than two years we see the situation of the parties reversed ; and a singular revolution puts the worthy baronet in a fair way of re- turning the prosecution in a recriminatory bill of pains and penalties, grounded on a breach of public trust, relative to the government of the very same part of India. If he should undertake a bill of that kind, he will find no difficulty in conducting it with a degree of skill and vigour fully equal to all that have been exerted against him. But the change of relation between these two gentlemen is not so striking as the total indifference of their deportment under the same unhappy circumstances. Whatever the merits of the worthy baronet's defence might have been, he did not shrink from the charge. He met it with manliness of spirit and decency of behaviour. What would have been thought of him if he had held the present langiiage of his old accuser ? When articles were exhibited against him by that right honourable gentle- man, he did not think proper to tell the house that we ought to institute no inquiry, to in- spect no paper, to examine no witness. He did not tell us (what at the time he might have told us with some show of reason) that our concerns in India were matters of delicacy; that to divulge anything relative to them would be mischievous to the State. He did not tell us that those who would inquire into his pi'oceedings were disposed to dismember the empire. He had not the presumption to say that for his part, having obtained in his Indian presidency the iiltimate object of his ambition, his honour was concerned in exe- cuting with integrity the trust which had been legally committed to his charge ; that others, not having been so fortunate, could not be so disinterested; and therefore their accusations could spring from no other source than faction, and envy to his fortune. Had he been frontless enough to hold such vain, vapouring language in the face of a grave, a detailed, a specified matter of accusation, whilst he violently resisted everything which could bring the merits of his cause to the test ; had he been wild enough to anticipate the ab- surdities of this day; that is, had he inferred, as his late accuser has thought proper to do, that he could not have been guilty of malversa- tion in office, for this sole and curious reason, that he had been in office ; had he argued the impossibility of his abusing his power on this sole principle, that he had power to abuse, he would have left but one impression on the mind of every man who heard him, and who believed him in his senses that in the utmost extent, he was guilty of the charge. But, Sir, leaving these two gentlemen to alternate as criminal and accuser upon what principles they think expedient, it is for us to consider, whether the Chancellor of the Es> cheqiier, and the Treasurer of the Navy, acting as a Board of Control, are justified by law or policy in suspending the legal arrangements made by the court of directors, in order to transfer the public revenues to the private emolument of certain servants of the East India Company, without the inquiry into the origin and justice of their claims, prescribed by an Act of Parliament. It is not contended that the Act of Parlia- ment did not expressly ordain an inquiry. It is not asserted that this inquiry was not, with equal precision of terms, specially committed under particular regulations to the court of directors. I conceive, therefore, the Board of Control had no right whatsoever to intermeddle in that business. There is nothing certain in the principles of jurisprudence if this be not undeniably true, that when a special authority is given to any persons by name, to do some particular act, that no others, by virtue of general powers, can obtain a legal title to in- trude themselves into that trust, and to exer- cise those special functions in their place. I therefore consider the intermeddling of ministers in this affair as a downright usurpation. But if the strained construction by which they have forced themselves into a suspicious office (which every man, delicate with regard to character, would rather have sought constructions to avoid) were perfectly sound and perfectly legal, of this I am certain, that they cannot be jus- tified in declining the inquiry which had been prescribed to the court of directors. If the Board of Control did lawfully possess the right of executing the special trust given to that court, they must take it as they found it, subject te the very same regulations which bound the court of directors. It will be allowed that the court of directors had no authority to dispense with either the substance or the mode of inquiry prescribed by the Act of Parliament. If they had not, where in the Act did the Board of Control acquire that capacity ? Indeed, it was impossible they should acquire it. What must we think of the fabric and texture of an Act of Parliament which should find it necessary to prescribe a strict inquisition; that should descend into minute regulations for the conduct of that inquisition ; that should commit this trust to a particular description of men, and THE ORATOR 1G9 in the very same Vreath should enable another body, at their own pleasure, to supersede all the provisions the Legislature had made, and to defeat the whole purpose, end, and object of the law ? This cannot be supposed even of an Act of Parliament conceived by the ministers themselves, and brought forth during the delirium of the last session. My honourable friend has told you in the speech which introduced his motion, that for- tunately this question is not a great deal involved in the labyrinths of Indian detail. Certainly not. But if it were, I beg leave to assure you that there is nothing in the Indian detail which is more difficult than in the detail of any other business. I admit, because I have some experience of the fact, that for the interior regulation of India, a minute knowledge of India is requisite. But on any specific matter of delinquency in its government, you are as capable of judging as if the same thing were done at your door. Fraud, injustice, oppression, peculation, engendered in India, are crimes of the same blood, family, and cast, with those that are born and bred in England. To go no farther than the case before us : you are just as competent to judge whether the sum of four millions sterling ought, or ought not, to be passed from the public treasury into a private pocket, without any title except the claim of the parties, when the issue of fact is laid in Madras, as when it is laid in Westminster. Terms of art, indeed, are different in different places ; but they are generally understood in none. The technical style of an Indian treasury is not one jot more remote than the jargon of our own exchequer, from the train of our ordinary ideas, or the idiom of our common language. The difference, therefore, in the two cases is not in the comparative difficulty or facility of the two subjects, but in our attention to the one, and our total neglect of the other. Had this attention and neglect been regulated by the value of the several objects, there would be nothing to complain of. But the reverse of that supposition is true. The scene of the Indian abuse is distant indeed ; but we must not infer that the value of our interest in it is decreased in proportion as it recedes from our view. In our politics, as in our common con- duct, we shall be worse than infants if we do not put our senses tinder the tuition of our judgment, and effectually cure ourselves of that optical illusion which makes a briar at our nose of greater magnitude than an oak at five hundred yards distance. I think I can trace all the calamities of this country to the single source of our not having had steadily before our eyes a general, compre- hensive, well-connected, and well-proportioned view of the whole of our dominions, and a just sense of their true bearings and relations. NO. XXII. After all its reductions, the British empire is still vast and various. After all the reductions of the House of Commons, stripped as we are of our brightest ornaments, and of our most important privileges, enough are yet left to furnish us, if we please, with means of showing to the world that we deserve the superintendence of as large an empire as this kingdom ever held, and the continuance of as ample privileges as the House of Commons, in the plenitude of its power, had been habituated to assert. But if we make ourselves too little for the sphere of our duty; if, on the contrary, we do not stretch and expand our minds to the compass of their object, be well assured that everything about us will dwindle by degrees, until at length our concerns are shrunk to the dimensions of our minds. It is not a predi- lection to mean, sordid, home-bred cares that will avert the consequences of a false estimation of our interest, or prevent the shameful di- lapidation into which a great, mighty empire must fall, by mean reparations upon mighty ruins. I confess I feel a degree of disgust, almost leading to despair, at the manner in which we are acting in the great exigencies of our country. There is now a bill in this house, appointing a rigid inquisition into the minutest detail of our offices at home. The collection of sixteen millions annually ; a collection on which the public greatness, safety, and credit have their reliance; the whole order of criminal jurisprudence, which holds together society itself, have at no time obliged us to call forth such powers ; no, nor anything like them. There is not a principle of the law and con- stitittion of this country that is not subverted to favotir the execution of that project. And for what is all this apparatus of bustle and terror ? Is it because anything substantial is expected from it? No. The stir and bustle itself is the end proposed. The eye-servants of a short-sighted master will employ them- selves, not on what is most essential to his affairs, but on what is nearest to his ken. Great difficulties have given a just value to economy; and our minister of the day must be an economist, whatever it may cost us, But where is he to exert his talents ? At home, to be sure ; for where else can he obtain a pro- fitable credit for their exertion ? It is nothing to him whether the object on which he works under her eye be promising or not. If he does not obtain any public benefit, he may make regulations without end. Those are sure to . pay in present expectation, whilst the effect is at a distance, and may be the concern of other times and other men. On these principles he chooses to suppose (for he does not pretend more than to suppose) a naked possibility, that he shall draw some resource out of crumbs M J 170 THE ORATOR. dropped from, the trenchers of penury ; that something shall be laid in store from the short allowance of revenue officers, overloaded with duty, and famished for want of bread; by a reduction from officers who are at this very hour ready to barter the treasury with what breaks through stone walls for an increase of their appointments. From the marrowless bones of these skeleton establishments, by the use of every sort of cutting, and of every sort of fretting tool, he flatters himself that he may chip and rasp an empirical alimentary powder, to diet into some similitude of health and substance the languishing chimeras of fraudu- lent reformation. Whilst he is thus employed according to his policy and to his taste, he has not leisure to inquire into those abuses in India that are drawing off money by millions from the trea- sures of this country, which are exhausting the vital juices from members of the state, where the public inanition is far more sorely felt than in the local exchequer of England. Not con- tent with winking at these abuses, whilst he attempts to squeeze the laborious ill-paid drudges of English revenue, he lavishes in one act of corrupt prodigality upon those who never served the public in any honest occupation at all, an annual income equal to two-thirds of the whole collection of the revenues of this kingdom. Actuated by the same principle of choice, he has now on the anvil another scheme, full of difficulty and desperate hazard, which totally alters the commercial relation of two kingdoms ; and what end soever it shall have, may be- queath a legacy of heart-burning and discon- tent to one of the countries, perhaps to both, to be perpetuated to the latest posterity. This project is also undertaken on the hope of profit. It is provided, that out of some (I know not what) remains of the Irish hereditary revenue, a fund at some time, and of some sort, should be applied to the protection of the Irish trade. Here we are commanded again to task our faith, and to persuade ourselves that out of the surplus of deficiency, out of the savings of habitual and systematic prodigality, the minister of wonders will provide support for this nation, sinking under the mountainous load of two hundred and thirty millions of debt. But whilst we look with pain at his desperate and laborious trifling; whilst we are apprehensive that he will break his back in stooping to pick up chaff and straws, he recovers himself in an elastic bound, and with a broadcast swing of his arm, he squanders over his Indian Held a sum far greater than the clear produce of the whole hereditary revenue of the kingdom of Ireland. Strange as this scheme of conduct in the ministry is, and inconsistent with all just policy, it is still true to itself, and faithful to its own perverted order. Those who are bountiful to crimes will be rigid to merit, and penurious to service. Their penury is even held out as a blind and cover to their prodigality. The economy of injustice is to furnish resources for the fund of corruption. Then they pay off their protection to great crimes and great criminals, by being inexorable to the paltry frailties of little men; and their modern fla- gellants are sure, with a rigid fidelity, to whip their own enormities on the vicarious back of every small offender. It is to draw your attention to economy of quite another order it is to animadvert on offences of a far different description, that 'my honourable friend has brought before you the motion of this day. It is to perpetuate the abuses which are subverting the fabric of your empire, that the motion is opposed. It is therefore with reason (and if he has power to carry himself through, I commend his prudence) that the right honourable gentleman makes his stand at the very outset, and boldly refuses all parliamentary information. Let him admit but one step towards inquiry, and he is undone. You must be ignorant, or he cannot be safe. But before his curtain is let down, and the shades of eternal night shall veil our eastern dominions from our view, permit me, Sir, to avail myself of the means which were furnished in anxious and inquisitive times, to demonstrate out of this single act of the present minister what ad- vantages you are to derive from permitting the greatest concern of this nation to be separated from the cognizance, and exempted even out of the competence of Parliament. The greatest body of your revenue, your most numerous armies, your most important commerce, the richest sources of your public credit (contrary to every idea of the known settled policy of England), are on the point of being converted into a mystery of state. You are going to have one-half of the globe hid even from the common liberal curiosity of an English gentleman. Here a grand revolution commences. Mark the period, and mark the circumstances. In most of the capital changes that are recorded in the prin- ciples and system of any government, a public benefit of some kind or other has been pre- tended. The revolution commenced in some- thing plausible ; in something which earned the appearance at least of punishment of delin- quency or correction of abuse. But here, in the very moment of the conversion of a depart- ment of British government into an Indian mystery, and in the very act in which the change commences, a corrupt private interest is set up in direct opposition to the necessities of the nation. A diversion is made of millions of the public money from the public treasury to a private purse. It is not into secret negotiations THE ORATOK. 171 for war, peace, or alliance, tliat the House of Commons is forbidden to inquire. It is a matter of account ; it is a pecuniary transaction; it is the demand of a suspected steward upon ruined tenants and an embarrassed master that the Commons of Great Britain are commanded not to inspect. The whole tenor of the right honourable gentleman's argument is consonant to the nature of his policy. The system of con- cealment is fostered by a system of falsehood. False facts, false colours, false names of persons and things, are its whole support. Sir, I mean to follow the right honourable gentleman over that field of deception, clearing what he has purposely obscured, and fairly stating what it was necessary for him to misre- present. For this purpose it is necessary you should know with some degree of distinctness a little of the locality, the nature, the circum- stances, the magnitude of the pretended debts on which this marvellous donation is founded, as well as of the persons from whom and by whom it is claimed. [Here Mr. Burke entered into details relative to the alleged accumulation of the debts, and then resumed :] Sir, at this moment it will not be necessary to consider the various operations which the capital and interest of this debt have succes- sively undergone. I shall speak to these opera- tions when I come particularly to answer the right honourable gentleman on each of the heads, as he has thought proper to divide them. But this was the exact view in which these debts first appeared to the court of directors and to the world. It varied afterwards. But it never appeared in any other than a most questionable shape. When this gigantic phan- tom of debt first appeared before a young minis- ter, it naturally would have justified some degree of doubt and apprehension. Such a prodigy would have filled any common man with super- stitious fears. He would exorcise that shape- less, nameless form, and by everything sacred would have adjured it to tell by what means a small number of slight individuals, of no conse- quence or situation, possessed of no lucrative offices, without the command of armies, or the known administration of revenues, without pro- fession of any kind, without any sort of trade sufficient to employ a pedlar, could have, in a few years (to some even in a few months) amassed treasures equal to the revenues of a respectable kingdom P Was it not enough to put these gentlemen, in the noviciate of their administration, on their guard, and to call upon them for a strict inqiiiry (if not to justify them in a reprobation of those demands without any inquiry at all), that when all England, Scotland, and Ireland had for years been witness to the immense sums laid out by the servants of the Company in stocks of all denominations, in the purchase of lands, in the buying and building of houses, in the securing quiet seats in Parlia- ment, or in the tumultuous riot of contested elections, in wandering throughout the whole range of those variegated modes of inventive prodigality which sometimes have excited our wonder, sometimes roused our indignation, that after all India was four millions still in debt to them? India in debt to them! For what? Every debt for which an equivalent of some kind or other is not given, is on the face of it a fraud. What is the equivalent they have given? What equivalent had they to give ? What are the articles of commerce or the branches of manufacture which those gentlemen have carried hence to enrich India ? What are the sciences they beamed out to enlighten it ? What are the arts they introduced to cheer and to adorn it ? What are the religions, what the moral in- stitutions they have taught among that people as a guide to life, or as a consolation when life is to be no more, that there is an eternal debt, a debt " still paying, still to owe," which must be bound on the present generation of India, and entailed on their mortgaged posterity for ever ? A debt of millions, in favour of a set of men, whose names, with few exceptions, ai'e either buried in the obscurity of their origin and talents, or dragged into light by the enor- mity of their crimes. In my opinion, the courage of the minister was the most wonderful part of the transaction, especially as he must have read, or rather the right honourable gentleman says he has read for him, whole volumes upon the subject. The volumes, by the way, are not by one-tenth part so numerous as the right honourable gentleman has thought proper to pretend, in order to frighten you from inquiry ; but in these volumes, such as they are, the minister must have found a full authority for a suspicion (at the very least) of everything relative to the great fortunes made at Madras. What is that authority ? Why, no other than the standing authority for all the claims which the ministry lias thought fit to pi'ovide for the grand debtor the Nabob of Arcot himself. Hear that prince, in the letter written to the court of directors, at the precise period, whilst the main body of these debts were contracting. In his letter he states himself to be, what undoubtedly he is, a most competent witness to this point. After speak- ing of the war with Hyder Ali in 1768 and 1769, and of other measures which he censures (whether right or wrong it signifies nothing), and into which he says he had been led by the Company's servants, he proceeds in this manner "If all these things were against the real interests of the Company, they are ten thousand times more against mine, and against the prosperity of my country, and the happine s 1" 172 THE ORATOR, of my people, for your interests and mine are the same. What were they owing to then ? To tho private views of a few individuals, who have enriched themselves at the expense of your influence and of my country ; for your servants have no trade in this country, neither do you pay them high wages, yet in a few years they return to England with many lacs of pagodas. How can you or I account for such immense fortunes, acquired in so short a time, without any visible means of getting them ? " When he asked this question, which involves its answer, it is extraordinary that curiosity did not prompt the Chancellor of the Exchequer to that inquiry which might come in vain recommended to him by his own Act of Par- liament. Does not the Nabob of Arcot tell us in so many words, that there was no fair way of making the enormous sums sent by the Company's servants to England ? And do you imagine that there was or could be more honesty and good faith in the demand for what remained behind in India? Of what nature were the transactions with himself? If you follow the train of his information, you must see that if these great sums were at all lent, it was not property, but spoil, that was lent ; if not lent, the transaction was not a contract, but a fraud. Either way, if light enough could not be furnished to authorize a full con- demnation of these demands, they ought to have been left to the parties who best knew and understood each other's proceedings. It was not necessary that the authority of govern- ment should interpose in favour of claims whose very foundation was a defiance of that autho- rity, and whose object and end was its entire subversion. It may be said that this letter was written by the Nabob of Arcot in a moody humour, under the influence of some chagrin. Certainly it was, but it is in such humours that truth comes out. And when he tells you from his own knowledge, what every one must presume, from the extreme probability of the thing, whether he told it or not, one such testimony is worth a thousand that contradict that pro- bability, when the parties have a better under- standing with each other, and when they have a point to carry that may unite them in a common deceit. If this body of private claims of debt, real or devised, were a question, as it is falsely pre- tended, between the Nabob of Arcot as debtor, nd Paul Benfield and his associates as creditors, [ am sure 1 should give myself but little trouble about it. If the hoards of oppression were the i'und for satisfying the claims of bribery and peculation, who would wish to interfere between such li'^/.^tb. If the demands were confined to what might be drawn from the treasures which the Company's records uniformly assert that the Nabob is in possession of; or if he had mines of gold or silver, or diamonds (as we know that he has none), these gentlemen might break open his hoards, or dig in his mines without any disturbance from me. But the gentlemen on the other side of the house know as well as I do, and they dare not contradict me, that the Nabob of Arcot and his creditors are not adversaries, but collusive parties, and that the whole transaction is under a false colour and false names. The litigation is not, nor ever has been, between their rapacity and his hoarded riches. No, it is between him and them combining and confederating on one sido, and the public revenues, and the miserable inhabitants of the ruined country, on the other. These are the real plaintiffs and the real defen- dants in the suit. Refusing a shilling from his hoards for the satisfaction of any demand, the Nabob of Arcot is always ready, nay, he earnestly, and with eagerness and passion, contends for delivering up to these pretended creditors his territory and his subjects. It is, therefore, not from treasuries and mines, but from the food of your unpaid armies, from the blood withheld from the veins, and whipt out of the backs of the most miserable of men, that we are to pamper extortion, usury, and pecu- lation, under the false names of debtors and creditors of state. [The speaker then proceeded to review, in the most searching manner, the several classes of creditors, and their respective claims on the Nabob, animadverting in the strongest terms on their acknowledgment by the ministry. He then continued :] But what corrupt men, in the fond imagi- nations of a sanguine avarice, had not the c n- fidence to propose, they have found a Chancellor of the Exchequer in England hardy enough to undertake for them. He has cheered their droop- ing spirits. He has thanked the peculators for not desparing of their commonwealth. He has told them they were too modest. He has replaced the twenty-five per cent, which, in order to lighten themselves, they had abandoned in their conscious terror. Instead of cutting off the interest, as they had themselves con- sented to do, with the fourth of the capital, he has added the whole growth of four years' usury of twelve per cent, to the first overgrown principal ; and has again grafted on this meliorated stock a perpetual annuity of six per cent, to take place from the year 1781. Let no man hereafter talk of the decaying energies of nature. All the acts and monu- ments in the records of peculation, the con- solidated corruption of ages, the patterns of exemplaiy plunder in the heroic times of Roman iniquity, never equalled the gigantic corruption of this single act. Never did Nero, in all the insolent prodigality of despotism, deal ont to Jus praetorian guards a donation fit to be THE ORATOR. 173 named with the largess showered down by th^ bounty of our Chancellor of the Exchequer on the faithful band of his Indian sepoys. The right honourable gentleman (Mr.Dundas) lets you freely and voluntarily into the whole transaction. So perfectly has his conduct confounded his understanding, that he fairly tells you, that through the course of the whole business he has never conferred with any but the agents of the pretended creditors. After this, do you want more to establish a secret understanding with the parties to fix, beyond a doubt, their collusion and participation in a common fraud ? If this were not enough, he has furnished you with other presumptions that are not to be shaken. It is one of the known indications of guilt to stagger and prevaricate in a story, and to vary in the motives that are assigned to conduct. Try these ministers by this rule. In their official dispatch, they tell the presi- dency of Madras, that they have established the debt for two reasons : first, because the Nabob (the party indebted) does not dispute it ; secondly, because it is mischievous to keep it longer afloat, and that the payment of the European creditors will promote circulation in the country. These two motives (for the plainest reasons in the world) the right honourable gentleman has this day thought fit totally to abandon. In the first place, he rejects the authority of the Nabob of Arcot. It would indeed be pleasant to see him adhere to this exploded testimony. He next, upon grounds equally solid, abandons the benefits of that circulation, which was to be produced by drawing out all the juices of the body. Laying aside, or forgetting these pretences of his dis- patch, he has just new assumed a principle totally different, but to the full as extraordinary. He proceeds upon a supposition, that many of the claims may be fictitious. He then finds that in a case where many valid and many fraudulent claims are blended together, the best course for their discrimination is indiscriminately to establish them all. He trusts (I suppose), as there may not be a fund sufficient for every description of creditors, that the best wan-anted claimants will exert themselves in bringing to light those debts which will not bear an inquiry. What he will not do himself, he is persuaded will be done by others ; and for this purpose he leaves to any person a general power of ex- cepting to the debt. This total change of language, and prevarication in principle, is enough, if it stood alone, to fix the presumption of unfair dealing. His dispatch assigns motives of po 1 . concord, trade, and circulation. His speech piocuuins discord and litigations, and proposes, as the ultimate end, detection. But he may shift his reasons ; and wind and turn as he will, confusion waits him at all his double?. Who will undertake this detection? Will the Nabob? But the right honourable gentleman has himself this moment told us, that no prince of the country can by any motive be prevailed upon to discover any fraud that is practised upon him by the Company's servants. He says, what (with the exception of the complaint against the cavalry loan) all the world knows to be true ; and without that prince's concurrence, what evidence can be had of the fraud of any the smallest of these de- mands ? The ministers never authorized any person to enter into his exchequer and to search his records. Why then this shameful and in- sulting mockery of a pretended contest P Al- ready contests for a preference have arisen among these rival bond creditors. Has not the Company itself struggled for a preference for years, without any attempt at detection of the nature of those debts with which they contended ? Well is the Nabob of Arcot at- tended to in the only specific complaint he has ever made. He complained of unfair dealing in the cavalry loan. It is fixed upon him with interest on interest ; and this loan is excepted from all power of litigation. This day, and not before, the right honour- able gentleman thinks that the general es- tablishment of all claims is the surest way of laying open the fraud of some of them. In India this is a reach of deep policy. But what would be thought of this mode of acting on a demand upon the treasury in England P In- stead of all this cunning, is there not one plain way open, that is, to put the burthen of the proof on those who make the demand? Ought not the ministry to have said to the creditors, " The person who admits your debt stands excepted to as evidence ; he stands charged as a collusive party, to hand over the public revenues to you for sinister purposes ? You say, you have a demand of some millions on the Indian treasury ; prove that you have acted by lawful authority; prove at least that your money has been bond fide advanced ; entitle yourself to my protection by the fairness and fulness of the communica- tions you make." Did an honest creditor ever refuse that reasonable and honest test ? There is little doubt that several individuals have been seduced by the purveyors to the Nabob of Arcot to put their money (perhaps the whole of honest and laborious earnings) into their hands, and that at such high interest as, being condemned at law, leaves them at the mercy of the great managers whom they trusted. These seduced creditors are probably persons of no power or interest either in England or India, and may be just objects of compassion. By ta 1 ; ~g, i this arrangement, no measures for discriunuiuiun and uiscovery, the fraudulent and the fair are in the first instance confounded in one mass. The subsequent selection and 174 THE OKATOE. distribution is left to the Nabob. With him the agents and instruments of his corruption, whom he sees to be omnipotent in England, and who may serve him in future, as they have done in times past, will have precedence, if not an exclusive preference. These leading interests domineer, and have always domineered, over the whole. By this arrangement, the persons seduced are made dependent on their seducers ; honesty (comparative honesty at least) must become of the party of fraud, and must quit its proper character, and its just claims, to entitle itself to the alms of bribery and peculation. [Here, again, Mr. Burke entered minutely into a question of accounts, disputing the accuracy of the claims put forward, and alleging fraud in the pre- tended creditors ; after which he proceeded as fol- lows :] It is impossible (at least I have found it im- possible) to fix on the real amount of the pre- tended debts with which your ministers have thought proper to load the Carnatick. They are obscure; they shun inquiry; they are enormous. That is all you know of them. That you may judge what chance any honour- able and useful end of government has for a provision that comes in for the leavings of these gluttonous demands, I must take it on myself to bring before you the real condition of that abused, insulted, racked, and ruined country ; though in truth my mind revolts from it ; though you will hear it with horror ; and I confess I tremble when I think on these awful and confounding dispensations of Providence. I shall first trouble you with a few words as to the cause. The great fortunes made in India in the be- ginnings of conquest, naturally excited an emulation in all the parts, and through the whole succession of the Company's service. But in the Company it gave rise to other sentiments. They did not find the new channels of acquisi- tion flow with equal riches to them. On the contrary, the high flood-tide of private emolu- ment was generally in the lowest ebb of their affairs. They began also to fear that the fortune of war might take away what the for- tune of war had given. Wars were accordingly discouraged by repeated injunctions and me- naces; and, that the servants might not be bribed into them by the native princes, they were strictly forbidden to take any money what- soever from their hands. But vehement passion is ingenious in resources. The Company's ser- vants were not only stimulated, but better in- structed by the prohibition. They soon fell upon a contrivance which answered their pur- poses far better than the methods which were forbidden ; though in this also they violated an ancient, but they thought an abrogated order. They reversed their proceedings. Instead of receiving presents, they made loans. Instead of carrying on wars in their own name, they contrived an aiathority at once irresistible and irresponsible, in whose name they might ravage at pleasure; and being thus freed from all restraint, they indulged themselves in the most extravagant speculations of plunder. The cabal of creditors who have been the object of the late bountiful grant from his Majesty's minis- ters, in order to possess themselves, under the name of creditors and assignees, of every coiTntry in India, as fast as it should be conquered, inspired into the mind of the Nabob of Arcot (then a dependant on the Company of the humblest order) a scheme of the most wild and desperate ambition, that I believe ever was ad- mitted into the thoughts of a man so situated. First, they persuaded him to consider himself as a principal member in the political system of Europe. In the next place they held out to him, and he readily imbibed the idea of, the general empire of Hindostan. As a preliminary to this undertaking, they prevailed on him to propose a tripartite division of that vast country.- one part to the Company, another to the Ma- rattas, and the third to himself. To himself he reserved all the southern part of the great peninsula, comprehended under the general name of the Deccan. On this scheme of their servants, the Com- pany was to appear in the Carnatick in no other light than as a contractor for the provision of armies, and the hire of mercenaries for his use, and under his direction. This disposition was to be secured by the Nabob's putting him- self under the guarantee of France, and by the means of that rival nation, preventing the English for ever from assuming an equality, much less a superiority, in the Carnatick. In pursuance of this treasonable project (treason- able on the part of the English), they extin- guished the Company as a sovereign power in that part of India; they withdrew the Com- pany's garrisons out of all the forts and strong- holds of the Carnatick ; they declined to receive the ambassadors from foreign courts, and re- mitted them to the Nabob of Arcot ; they fell upon and totally destroyed the oldest ally of the Company, the King of Tanjore, and plun- dered the country to the amount of near five millions sterling; one after another, in the Nabob's name, but with English force, they brought into a miserable servitude all the princes and great independent nobility of a vast country. In proportion to these treasons and violences, which ruined the people, the fund of the Nabob's debt grew and flourished. Among the victims to this magnificent plan of universal plunder, worthy of the heroic avarice of the projectors, you have all heard (and he has made himself to be well remem- bered) of an Indian chief called Hyder AH Khan. This man possessed the western, as THE OEATOE. 175 the Company, under the name of the Nabob of Arcot, does the eastern, division of the Carna- tick. It was among the leading measures in the design of this cabal (according to their own emphatic language) to extirpate this Hyder Ali. They declared the Nabob of Arcot to be his sovereign, and himself to be a rebel, and publicly invested their instrument with the sovereignty of the kingdom of Mysore. But their victim was not of the passive kind. They were soon obliged to conclude a treaty of peace and close alliance with this rebel, at the gates of Madras. Both before and since that treaty, every prin- ciple of policy pointed out this power as a natural alliance ; and on his part, it was courted by every sort of amicable office. But the cabinet council of English creditors would not suffer their Nabob of Arcot to sign the treaty, nor even to give to a prince, at least his equal, the ordinary titles of respect and courtesy. From that time forward, a continued plot was carried on within the divan, black and white, of the Nabob of Arcot, for the destruction of Hyder Ali. As to the outward members of the double, or rather treble government of Madras, which had signed the treaty, they were always prevented by some overruling influence (which they do not describe, but which cannot be mis- understood) from performing what justice and interest combined so evidently to enforce. ;> When at length Hyder Ali found that he had to do with men who either would sign no convention, or whom no treaty and no signa- tjre could bind, and who were the determined enemies of human intercourse itself, he decreed to make the country possessed by these incor- rigible and predestinated criminals a memorable example to mankind. He resolved, in the gloomy recesses of a mind capacious of such things, to leave the whole Caruatick an ever- lasting monument of vengeance; and to put perpetual desolation as a barrier between him and those against whom the faith which holds the moral elements of the world together was no protection. He became at length so confi- dent of his force, so collected in his might, that he made no secret whatsoever of his dreadful resolution. Having terminated his disputes with every enemy, and every rival, who buried their mutual animosities in their common detestation against the creditors of the Nabob of Arcot, he drew from every quarter whatever a savage ferocity could add to his new rudiments in the arts of destruction ; and compounding all the materials of fury, havoc, and desolation, into one black cloud, he hung for a while on the declivi- ties of the mountains. Whilst the authors of all these evils were idly and stupidly gazing on this menacing meteor, which blackened all their horizon, it suddenly burst, and poured down the while of its contents upon the plains of the Carnatick. Then ensued a scene of woe, 3. Nj. eadfinL the like of which no eye had seen, no heart con- ceived, and which no tongue can adequately tell. All the horrors of war before known or heard of, were mercy to that new havoc. A storm of universal fire blasted every field, con- sumed every house, destroyed every temple. The miserable inhabitants, flying from their flaming villages, in part were slaughtered; others, without regard to sex, to age, to the respect of rank, or sacredness of function ; fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped in a whirlwind of cavalry, and amidst the goading spears of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses, were swept into captivity, in an unknown and hostile land. Those who were able to evade this tempest, fled to the walled cities. But escaping from, fire, sword, and exile, they fell into the jaws of famine. The alms of the settlement, in this dreadf exigency, were certainly liberal, and all was done by charity that private charity could do ; but it was a people in beggary ; it was a nation which stretched out its hands for food. Por months together these creatures of sufferance, whose very excess and luxury in their most plenteous days had fallen short of the allowance of our austerest fasts, silent, patient, resigned, without sedition or disturbance, almost without complaint, perished by a hundred a day in the streets of Madras ; every day seventy at least laid their bodies in the streets, or on the glacis of Tanjore, and expired of famine in the granary of India. I was going to awake your justice towards this unhappy part of our fellow-citizens by bringing before you some of the circum- stances of this plague of hunger. Of all the calamities which beset and waylay the life of man, this comes the nearest to our heart, and is that wherein the proudest of us all feels him- self to be nothing more than he is ; but I find myself unable to manage it with decorum ; these details arc of a species of horror so nauseous and disgusting ; they are so degrading to the sufferers and to the hearers ; they are so humiliating to human nature itself, that, on better thoughts, I find it more advisable to throw a pall over this hideous object, and to leave it to your general conceptions. For eighteen months without intermission this destruction raged from the gates of Madras to the gates of Tanjore; and so completely did these masters in their art, Hyder Ali and his more ferocious son, absolve themselves of their impious vow, that when the British armies traversed, as they did, the Carnatick for hun- dreds of miles in all directions, through the whole line of their march they did not see one man, not ono woman, not one child, not one four-footed beast of any description whatever. One dead, uniform silence reigned over the whole region. With the inconsiderable exceptions of the narrow vicinage of some few forts, I wish 176 THE ORATOR. to be understood as speaking literally. I mean to produce to you more than three witnesses, above all exception, who will support this assertion in its full extent. That hurricane of war passed through every paii. of the central provinces of the Carnatick. Six or seven districts to the north and to the south (and these not wholly untouched) escaped the general ravage. The Carnatick is a country not much inferior in extent to England. Figure to yourself, Mr. Speaker, the land in whose representative chair you sit, figure to yourself the form and fashion of your sweet and cheerful country, from Thames to Trent, north and south, and from the Irish to the German sea, east and west, emptied and embowelled (may God avert the omen of our crimes !) by so accomplished a desolation. Extend your imagination a little further, and then suppose your ministers taking a survey of this scene of waste and desolation ; what would be your thoughts if you should be informed, that they were computing how much had been the amount of the excises, how much the customs, how much the land and malt tax, in order that they should charge (take it in the most favourable light) for public service, upon the relics of the satiated vengeance of relentless enemies, the whole of what England had yielded in the most exubei'ant seasons of peace and abundance ? What would you call it ? To call it tyranny, sublimed into madness, would be too faint an image ; yet this very madness is the principle upon which the ministers at your right hand have proceeded in their estimate of the revenues of the Carnatick, when they were providing, not supply for the establishments of its pro- tection, but rewards for the authors of its ruin. Every day you are fatigued and disgusted with this cant, "The Carnatick is a country that will soon recover, and become instantly as prosperous as ever." They think they are talking to innocents, who will believe that by sowing of dragons' teeth, men may come up ready grown and ready armed. They who will give themselves the trouble of considering (for it requires no great reach of thought, no very profound knowledge) the manner in which man- kind are increased and countries cultivated, will regard all this raving as it ought to be regarded. In order that the people, after a long period of vexation and plunder, may be in a condition to maintain government, govern- ment must begin by maintaining them. Here the road to economy lies not through receipt, but through expense ; and in that country nature has given no short cut to your object. Men must propagate, like other animals, by the mouth. Never did oppression light the nuptial torch ; never did extortion and usury spread out the genial bed. Does any of you think that England, so wasted, would, under such a nursing attendance, so rapidly and cheaply recover? But he is meanly acquainted with either England or India who does not know that England would a thousand times sooner resume population, fertility, and what ought to be the ultimate secretion from both, revenue, than such a country as the Carnatick. The Carnatick is not by the bounty of nature a fertile soil. The general size of its cattle is proof enough that it is much otherwise. It is some days since I moved that a curious and interesting map, kept in the India House, should be laid before you. The India House is not yet in readiness to send it; I have therefore brought down my own copy, and there it lies for the use of any gentleman who may think such a matter worthy of his atten- tion. It is indeed a noble map, and of noble things ; but it is decisive against the golden dreams and sanguine speculations of avarice run mad. In addition to what you know must be the case in every part of the world (the necessity of a previous provision of habitation, seed, stock, capital), that map will show you, that the uee of the influences of Heaven itself are in that country a work of art. The Car- natick is refreshed by few or no living brooks or running streams, and it has rain only at a season ; but its product of rice exacts the use of water subject to perpetual command. This is the national bank of the Carnatick, on which it must have a perpetual credit, or it perishes irretrievably. For that reason, in the happier times of India, a number almost incredible of reservoirs have been made in chosen places throughout the whole country ; they are formed for the greater part of mounds of earth and stones, with sluices of solid masonry ; the whole constructed with admirable skill and labour, and maintained at a mighty charge. In the territory contained in that map alone I have been at the trouble of reckoning the reservoirs, and they amount to upwards of eleven hundred, from the extent of two or three acres to five miles in circuit. From these reservoirs currents are occasionally drawn over the fields, and these watercourses again call for a considerable expense to keep them properly scoured and duly levelled. Taking the district in that map as a measure, there cannot be in the Carnatick and Tan j ore fewer than ten thousand of these reservoirs of the larger and middling dimensions, to say nothing of those for domestic services, and the use of religious purification. These arc not the enterprises of your power, nor in a style of magnificence suited to the taste of your minister. These are the monuments of real kings, who were the fathers of their people ; testators to a posterity which they embraced as their own. These are the grand sepulchres built by ambition; but THE ORATOR. 177 by the ambition of an insatiable benevolence, which, not contented with reigning in the dis- pensation of happiness during the contracted term of human life, had strained with all the Teachings and graspings of a vivacious mind, to extend the dominion of their bounty beyond the limits of nature, and to perpetuate them- selves through generations of generations, the guardians, the protectors, the nourishers of mankind. Long before the late invasion, the persons who are objects of the grant of public money now before you, had so diverted the supply of the pious funds of culture and population, that everywhere the reservoirs were fallen into a miserable decay. But after those domestic enemies had provoked the entry of a cruel foreign foe into the country, he did not leave it until his revenge had completed the destruction begun by their avarice. Few, very few indeed, of these magazines of water that are not either totally destroyed, or cut through with such gaps as to require a serious attention and much cost to re-establish them as the means of present subsistence to the people and of future revenue to the state. What, Sir, would a virtuous and enlightened ministry do on the view of the ruins of such works before them P on the view of such a chasm of desolation as that which yawned in the midst of those countries to the north and south, which still bore some vestiges of cul- tivation ? They would have reduced all their most necessary establishments ; they would have suspended the justest payments ; they would have employed every shilling derived from the producing to reanimate the powers of the unproductive parts. While they were performing this fundamental duty, whilst they were celebrating these mysteries of justice and humanity, they would have told the corps of fictitious creditors, whose crimes were their claims, that they must keep an awful distance ; that they must silence their inauspicious tongues ; that they must hold off their profane unhallowed paws from this holy work ; they would have proclaimed with a voice that should make itself heard, that on every country the first creditor is the plough ; that this original, indefeasible claim supersedes every other de- mand. This is what a wise and virtuous ministry would have done and said. This, therefore, is what our minister could never think of saying or doing. A ministry of another kind would have first improved the country, and have thus laid a solid foundation for future opulence and future force. But on this grand point of the restoration of the country, there is not one syllable to be found in the correspondence of our ministers ; from the first to the last they felt nothing for a laud desolated by fire, sword, and famine ; NO. XXIII. their sympathies took another direction; they were touched with pity for bribery, so long tormented with a fruitless itching of its palms ; their bowels yearned for usury, that had long missed the harvest of its returning months ; they felt for peculation, which had been for so many years raking in the dust of an empty treasury ; they were melted into compassion for rapine and oppression, licking their dry, parched, unbloody jaws. These were the ob- jects of their solicitude. These were the ne- cessities for which they were studious to pro- vide. [The speaker here took a survey of the revenue of the Caruatick at the time of the alleged contracting of the debts and afterwards, with a view of disproving the existence of the creditors' claims as set forth by the ministry, and then resumed :] But I, Sir, who profess to speak to your understanding and to your conscience, and to brush away from this business all false colours, all false appellations, as well as false facts, do positively deny that the Camatick owes a shilling to the Company, whatever the Company may be indebted to that undone country. It owes nothing to the Company, for this plain and simple reason the territory charged with the debt is their own. To say that their revenues fall short, and owe them money, is to say they are in debt to themselves, which is only talking nonsense. The fact is, that by the invasion of an enemy and the ruin of the country, the Company, either in its own name, or in the names of the Nabob of Arcot and the Rajah of Tanjore, has lost for several years what it might have looked to receive from its own estate. If men were allowed to credit them- selves, upon such principles anyone might soon grow rich by this mode of accounting. A flood comes down upon a man's estate in the Bedford Level of a thousand pounds a year, and drowns his rent for ten years. The chancellor would put that man into the hands of a trustee, who would gravely make up his books, and for this loss credit himself in his account for a debt due to him of 10,000. It is, however, on this principle the Company makes up its demands on the Carnatick. In peace they go the full length, and indeed more than the full length, of what the people can bear for current estab- lishments ; then they are absurd enough to con- solidate all the calamities of war into debts, to metamorphose the devastations of the country into demands upon its future production. What is this but to avow a resolution utterly to de- stroy their own country, and to force the people to pay for their sufferings to a government which has proved unable to protect either the share of the husbandman or their own? In every lease of a farm, the invasion of an enemy, instead of forming a demand for arrear, is a N 178 THE ORATOR. release of rent ; nor for that release is it at all necessary to show, that the invasion has left nothing to the occupier of the soil, thongh in the present case it would be too easy to prove that melancholy fact. I therefore applauded my right honourable friend, who, when he can- vassed the Company's accounts, as a preliminary to a bill that ought not to stand on falsehood of any kind, fixed his discerning eye and his deciding hand on these debts of the company, from the Nabob of Arcot and Rajah of Tanjore, and at one stroke expunged them all, as utterly irrecoverable ; he might have added as latterly unfounded. On these grounds I do not blame the arrange- ment this day in question, as a preference given to the debt of individuals over the Company's debt. In my eye it is no more than the pre- ference of a fiction over a chimera ; but I blame the preference given to those fictitious private debts over the standing defence and the stand- ing government. It is there the public is robbed. It is robbed in its army ; it is robbed in its civil administration ; it is robbed in its credit ; it is robbed in its investment which forms the commercial connection between that country and Europe. There is the robbery. But my principal objection lies a good deal deeper. That debt to the company is the pre- text under which all the other debts lurk and cover themselves. That debt forms the foul putrid mucus, in which are engendered the whole brood of creeping ascarides, all the end- less involutions, the eternal knot, added to a knot of those inexpungable tape-worms which devour the nutriment, and eat up the bowels of India. It is necessary, Sir, you should recol- lect two things ; first, that the Nabob's debt to the Company carries no interest. In the next place you will observe, that whenever the Com- pany has occasion to borrow, she has always commanded whatever she thought fit at eight per cent. Carrying in your mind these two facts, attend to the process with regard to the public and private debt, and with what little appearance of decency they play into each other's hands a game of utter perdition to the unhappy natives of India. The Nabob falls into an arrear to the Company. The Presidency presses for payment. The Nabob's answer is, I kave no money. Good. But there are soucars who will supply you on the mortgage of your territories. Then steps forward some Paul Benfield, and from his grateful compassion to the Nabob, and his filial regard to the Com- pany, he unlocks the treasures of his virtuous industry ; and for a consideration of twenty -four or thirty-six per cent, on a mortgage of the ter- ritorial revenue, becomes security to the Com- pany for the Nabob's arrear. All this intermediate usury thus becomes sanctified by the ultimate view to the Company's payment. In this case would not a plain man ask this plain question of the Company : If you knew that the Nabob must annually mortgage his territories to your servants to pay his annual arrear to you, why is not the assignment or mortgage made directly to the Company itself? By this simple obvious operation, the Company would be relieved, and the debt paid without the charge of a shilling interest to that prince. But if that course should be thought too indul- gent, why do they not take that assignment with such interest to themselves as they pay to others, that is, eight per cent. P Or, if it were thought more advisable (why it should I know not) that he must borrow, why do not the Company lend their own credit to the Nabob for their own payment ? That credit would not be weakened by the collateral security of his territorial mortgage. The money might still be had at eight per cent. Instead of any of these honest and obvious methods, the Company has for yeai's kept up a show of disinterestedness and moderation, by suffering a debt to accumu- late to them from the country powers without any interest at all ; and at the same time have seen before their eyes, on a pretext of borrowing to pay that debt, the revenues of the country charged with an usury of 20, 24, 36, and even 48 per cent., with compound interest, for the benefit of their servants. All this time they know that by having a debt subsisting without any interest, which is to be paid by contracting a debt on the highest interest, they manifestly rendered it necessary to the Nabob of Arcot to give the private demand a preference to the public ; and by binding him and their servants together in a common cause, they enable him to form a party to the utter ruin of their own authority, and their own affairs. Thus their false moderation, and their affected purity, by the natural operation of everything false, and everything affected, becomes pander to the un- bridled debauchery and licentious lewdness of usury and extortion. In consequence of this double game, all the territorial revenues have, at one time or other, been covered by those locusts, the English soucars. Not one single foot of the Carnatick has escaped them ; a territory as large as Eng- land. During these operations, what a scene has that country pi'esented ! The usurious European assignee supersedes the Nabob's native farmer of the revenue ; the farmer flies to the Nabob's presence to claim his bargain ; whilst his servants murmur for wages, and his soldiers mutiny for pay. The mortgage to the Eui-opean assignee is then resumed, and the native farmer replaced ; replaced, again to be removed on the new clamour of the European assignee. Every man of rank and landed foi- tune being long since extinguished, the remain- ing miserable last cultivator, w'no grows to the THE OEATOB. 179 soil, after having his back scored by the farmer, has it again flayed by the whip of the assignee, and is thus by a ravenous, because a short- lived, succession of claimants, lashed from op- pressor to oppressor, whilst a single drop of blood is left as the means of extorting a single grain of corn. Do not think I paint. Far, very far from it ; I do not reach the fact, nor approach to it. Men of respectable condition, men equal to your substantial English yeomen, are daily tied up and scourged to answer the multiplied demands of various contending and contradictory titles, all issuing from one and the same source. Tyrannous exaction brings on servile concealment ; and that again calls forth tyrannous coercion. They move in a circle, mutually producing and produced, till at length nothing of humanity is left in the government, no trace of integrity, spirit, or man- liness in the people, who drag out a precarious and degraded existence under this system of outrage upon human nature. Such, is the effect of the establishment of a debt to the Company, as it has hitherto been managed, and as it ever will remain, until ideas are adopted totally dif- ferent from those which prevail at this time. Your worthy ministers, supporting what they are obliged to condemn, have thought fit to renew the Company's old order against contract- ing private debts in future. They begin by rewarding the violation of the ancient law ; and then they gravely re-enact provisions, of which they have given bounties for the breach. This inconsistency has been well exposed. But what will you say to their having gone the length of giving positive directions for contracting the debt which they positively forbid ? [Again Mr. Burke entered on statistical explanations and proofs, 'with reference to the Carnatick ; passing on afterwards to the conduct of the ministry with re- ference to Tanjore.] Such is the state to which the Company's servants have reduced that country. Now come the reformers, restorers, and comforters of India. What have they done? In addition to all these tyrannous exactions, with all these ruinous debts in their train, looking to one side of an agreement whilst they wilfully shut their eyes to the other, they withdraw from Tanjore all the benefits of the treaty of 1762, and they subject that nation to a perpetual tribute of forty thousand a year to the Nabob of Arcot ; a tribute never due, or pretended to be due to him, even when he appeared to be something ; a tribute, as things now stand, not to a real potentate, but to a shadow, a dream, an incubus of oppression. After the Company has accepted in subsidy, in grant of territory, in remission of rent, as a compensation for their own protec- tion, at least two hundred thousand pounds a-ycar, without discounting a shilling for that receipt, the ministers condemn this harrasscd nation to be tributary to a person who is him- self, by their own arrangement, deprived of the right of war or peace, deprived of the power of the sword, forbidden to keep up a single regiment of soldiers, and is therefore wholly disabled from all protection of the country which is the object of the pretended tribute. Tribute hangs on the sword. It is an incident inseparable from real sovereign power. In the present case to suppose its existence, is as absurd, as it is cruel and op- pressive. And here, Mr. Speaker, you have a clear exemplification of the use of those false names, and false colours, which the gentlemen who have lately taken possession of India choose to lay on for the purpose of disguising their plan of oppression. The Nabob of Arcot, and Rajah of Tanjore, have in truth and substance, no more than a merely civil authority, held in the most entire dependence on the Company. The Nabob, without military, without federal capacity, is extinguished as a potentate ; but then he is carefully kept alive as an indepen- dent and sovereign power, for the purpose of rapine and extortion for the purpose of per- petuating the old intrigues, animosities, usuries, and corruptions. It was not enough that this mockery of tribute was to be continued without the corre- spondent protection, or any of the stipulated equivalents, but ten years of arrear, to the amount of 400,000 sterling, is added to all the debts of the Company, and to individuals in order to create a new debt, to be paid (if at all possible to be paid, in whole or in part), only by new usuries ; and all this for the Nabob of Arcot, or rather for Mr. Benfield, and the corps of the Nabob's creditors and their soucars. Thus these miserable Indian princes are con- tinued in their seats, for no other purpose than to render them in the first instance objects of every species of extortion, and in the second, to force them to become, for the sake of a mo- mentary shadow of reduced authority, a sort of subordinate tyrants, the ruin and calamity, not the fathers and cherishers of their people. But take this tribute only as a mere charge (without title, cause, or equivalent) on this people. What one step has been taken to furnish grounds for a just calculation and esti- mate of the proportion of the burthen and the ability ? None ; not an attempt at it. They do not adapt the biirthen to the strength ; but they estimate the strength of the bearers by the burthen they impose. Then what care is taken to leave a fund sufficient to the future reproduc- tion of the revenues that are to bear all these loads ? Every one but tolerably conversant in Indian affairs, must know that the existence of this little kingdom depends on its control over the river Cavcry. The benefits of Heaven to any community ought never to be connected 180 THE ORATOR. with political arrangements, or made to depend on the personal conduct of princes ; in which the mistake, or error, or neglect, or distress, or passion of a moment on either side, may bring famine on millions, and ruin an innocent nation perhaps for ages. The means of the subsistence of mankind should be as immutable as the laws of nature, let power and dominion take what course they may. Observe what has been done with regard to this important concern. The use of this river is indeed at length given to the Rajah, and a power provided for its enjoyment at his own charge ; but the means of furnishing that charge (and a mighty one it is) are wholly cut off. This use of the water, which ought to have no more connection than clouds and rains, and sunshine, with the politics of the Rajah, the Nabob, or the Company, is expressly con- trived as a means of enforcing demands and arrears of tribute. This horrid and unnatural instrument of extortion had been a distinguish- ing feature in the enormities of the Carnatick politics, that loudly called for reformation. But the food of a whole people is by the re- formers of India conditioned on payments from its prince, at a moment that he is overpowered with a swarm of their demands, without regard to the ability of either prince or people. In fine, by opening an avenue to the irruption of the Nabob of Arcot's creditors and ^oucars, whom every man who did not fall in love with oppression and corruption on an experience of the calamities they produced, would have raised wall before wall, and mound before mound, to keep from a possibility of entrance, a more de- structive enemy than Hyder Ali is introduced into that kingdom. By this part of their arrangement, in which they establish a debt to the Nabob of Arcot, in effect and substance, they deliver over Tanjore, bound hand and foot, to Paul Benfield, the old betrayer, insulter, op- pressor, and scourge of a country, which has for years been an object of an unremittcd, but unhappily an unequal struggle, between the bounties of Providence to renovate, and the wickedness of mankind to destroy. The right honourable gentleman (Mr. Dundas) talks of the fairness in determining the territorial dispute between the Nabob of Arcot and the prince of that country, when he superseded the determination of the directors, in whom the law had vested the decision of that controversy. He is in this just as feeble as he is in every other part. But it is not necessary to say a word in refutation of any part of his argiiment. The mode of the proceeding sufficiently speaks the spirit of it. It is enough to fix his cha- racter as a judge that he never heard the directors in defence of their adjudication, nor either of the parties in support of their respective claims. It is sufficient for me, that he takes from the Rajah of Tanjore by this pretended adjudication, or rather from his unhappy sub- jects, 40,000 a-year of his and their revenue, and leaves upon his and their shoulders all the charges that can be made on the part of the Nabob, on the part of his creditors, and on the part of the Company, without so much as hearing him as to right or to ability. But what principally induces me to leave the affair of the territorial dispute between the Nabob and the Rajah to another day, is this, that both the parties being stripped of their all, it little signifies tinder which of their names the un- happy, undone people are delivered over to the merciless soucars, the allies of that right honour- able gentleman and the Chancellor of the Ex- chequer. In them ends the account of this long dispute of the Nabob of Arcot and the Rajah of Tanjore. The right honourable gen- tleman is of opinion, that his judgment in this case can be censured by none but those who seem to act as if they were paid agents to one of the parties. What does he think of his Court of Directors ? If they are paid by either of the parties, by which of them does he think they are paid ? He knows that their decision has been directly contrary to his. Shall I believe that it does not enter into his heart to conceive, that any person can steadily and actively interest himself in the protection of the injured and oppressed, without being well paid for his service ? I have taken notice of this sort of discourse some days ago, so far as it may be supposed to relate to me. I then contented myself, as I shall now do, with giving it a cold, though a very direct, contradiction. Thus much I do from respect to truth. If I did more, it might be supposed, by my anxiety to clear myself, that I had imbibed the ideas, which, for obvious reasons, the right honourable gentleman wishes to have received concerning all attempts to plead the cause of the natives of India, as if it were a disreputable employ- ment. If he had not forgotten, in his present occupation, eveiy principle which ought to have guided him, and I hope did guide him, in his late profession, he would have known, that he who takes a fee for pleading the cause of distress against power, and manfully performs the duty he has assumed, receives an honourable re- compense for a virtuous service. But if the right honoiirable gentleman will have no regard to fact in his insinuations, or to reason in his opinions, I wish him at least to consider, that if taking an earnest part with regard to the oppressions exercised in India, and with regard to this most oppressive case of Tanjore in par- ticular, can ground a presumption of interested motives, he is himself the most mercenary man I know. His conduct indeed is such that he is on all occasions the standing testimony against himself. He it was that first called to that case the attention of the lloiise; the THE ORATOR. 181 reports of his own committee are ample and affecting upon that subject ; and as many of us as have escaped his massacre, must remember the very pathetic picture he made of the suffer- ings of the Tanjore country, on the day when he moved the unwieldy code of his Indian resolutions. Has he not stated over and over again in his reports, the ill treatment of the Rajah of Tanjore (a branch of the royal house of the Marattas, every injury to whom the Marattas felt as offered to themselves) as a main cause of the alienation of that people from the British power? And does he now think, that to betray his principles, to contradict his declarations, and to become himself an active instrument in those oppressions which he had so tragically lamented, is the way to clear himself of having been actuated by a pecuniary interest, at the time when he chose to appear full of tenderness to that ruined nation ? The right honourable gentleman is fond of parading on the motives of others, and on his own. As to himself, he despises the impu- tations of those who suppose that anything corrupt could influence him in this his un- exampled liberality of the public treasure. I do not know that I am obliged to speak to the mo- tives of the ministry, in the arrangements they have made of the pretended debts of Arcot and Tanjore. If I prove fraud and collusion with regard to public money on those right honourable gentlemen, I am not obliged to assign their motives ; because no good motives can be pleaded in favour of their conduct. Upon that case I stand : we are at issue ; and I desire to go to trial. This, I am sure, is not loose railing, or mean insinuation, according to their low and degenerate fashion, when they make attacks on the measures of their adversaries. It is a regular and juridical course ; and, unless I choose, nothing can compel me to go further. But since these unhappy gentlemen have dared to hold a lofty tone about their motives, and affect to despise suspicion, instead of being careful net to give cause for it, I shall beg leave to lay before you some general obser- vations on what I conceive was their duty in so delicate a business. If I were worthy to suggest any line of pru- dence to that right honourable gentleman, I would tell him, that the way to avoid suspicion in the settlement of pecuniary transactions, in which great frauds have been very strongly pre- sumed, is, to attend to these few plain principles : Fiist, to hear all parties equally, and not the managers for the suspected claimants only. Not to proceed in the dark but to act with as much publicity as possible. Not to precipitate decision. To be religious in following the rules prescribed in the commission under which we act. A\id, lastly, and above all, not to be fond of constraining constructions, to force a juris- diction, and to draw to ourselves the manage- ment of a trust in its nature invidious and obnoxious to suspicion, where the plainest letter of the law does not compel it. If these few plain rules are observed, no corruption ought to be suspected ; if any of them are violated, suspicion will attach in proportion. If all of them arc violated, a corrupt motive of some kind or other will not only be suspected, but must be violently presumed. [At this point Mr. Burke stepped aside, as it were, to direct attention to the part taken in reference to the alleged debts by certain servants of the India Company, named Benfield and Atkinson, proceeding thence to tho conclusion of this great oration as follows :] I confine myself to the connection of ministers, mediately or immediately, with only two persons concerned in this debt. How many others, who support their power and greatness within and without doors, are concerned originally, or by transfers of these debts, must be left to general opinion. I refer to the reports of the select committee for the proceedings of some of the agents in these affairs, and their attempts, at least, to furnish ministers with the means of buying general courts, and even whole par- liaments, in the gross. I know that the ministers will think it little less than acquittal, that they are not charged with having taken to themselves some part of the money of which they have made so liberal a donation to their partizans, though the charge may be indisputably fixed upon the corruption of their politics. For my part, I follow their crimes to that point to which legal presump- tions and natural indications lead me, without considering what species of evil motive tends most to aggravate or to extenuate the guilt of their conduct. But if I am to speak my private sentiments, I think that in a thousand cases for one it would be far less mischievous to the public, and full as little dishonourable to themselves, to be polluted with direct bribery, than thus to become a standing auxiliary to the oppression, usury, and peculation of mul- titudes, in order to obtain a corrupt support to their power. It is by bribing, not so often by being bribed, that wicked politicians bring ruin on mankind. Avarice is a rival to the pursuits of many. It finds a multitude of checks, and many opposers, in every walk of life. But the objects of ambition are for the few ; and every person who aims at indirect profit, and there- fore wants other protection than innocence and law, instead of its rival becomes its instrument. There is a natural allegiance and fealty due to this domineering paramount evil, from all the vassal vices, which acknowledge its superiority, and readily militate under its banners ; and it is under that discipline alone that avarice is able to spread to any considerable extent, or to 182 THE ORATOR. render itself a general public mischief. It is therefore no apology for ministers that they have not been bought by the East India delinquents, but that they have only formed an alliance with them for screening each other from justice, ac- cording to the exigency of theirseveral necessities. That they have done so is evident ; and the junc- tion of the power of office in England, with the abuse of authority in the East, has not only prevented even the appearance of redress to the grievances of India ; but I wish it may not be found to have dulled, if not extinguished, the honour, the candour, the generosity, the good nature, which used formerly to charac- terize the people of England. I confess I wish that some more feeling than I have yet ob- served for the sufferings of our fellow-creatures and fellow-subjects in. that oppressed part of the world, had manifested itself in any one quarter of the kingdom, or in any one large description of men. That these oppressions exist, is a fact no more denied, than it is resented as it ought to be. Much evil has been done in India under the British authority. What has been done to redress it ? "We are no longer surprised at anything. We are above the unlearned and vulgar passion of admiration. But it will astonish posterity, when they read our opinions in our actions, that after years of inquiry we have found out that the sole grievance of India consisted in this, that the servants of the Company there had not profited enough of their opportunities, nor drained it sufficiently of its treasures ; when they shall hear that the very first and only important act of a commission specially named by Act of Parliament, is to charge upon an undone country, in favour of a handful of men in the humblest ranks of the public service, the enormous sum of perhaps four millions of sterling money. It is difficult for the most wise and upright government to correct the abuses of remote delegated power, productive of unmeasured wealth, and protected by the boldness and strength of the same ill-gotten riches. These abuses, full of their own wild native vigour, will grow and flourish under mere neglect. But where the supreme authority, not content with winking at the rapacity of its inferior instruments, is so shameless and corrupt as openly to give bounties and premiums for dis- obedience to its laws ; when it will not trust to the activity of avarice in the pursuit of its own gains ; when it secures public robbery by all the careful jealousy and attention with which it ought to protect property from such violence ; the commonwealth then is become totally per- verted from its purposes ; neither God nor man will long endure it; nor will it long endure itself. In that case, there is an unnatural infection, a pestilential taint fermenting in the constitution of society, which fever and con- vulsions of some kind or other must throw off ; or in which the vital powers, worsted in an unequal struggle, are pushed back upon them- selves, and by a reversal of their whole func- tions, fester to gangrene, to death ; and instead of what was but just now the delight and boast of the creation, there will be cast out in the face of the sun, a bloated, putrid, noisome carcass, full of stench and poison, an offence, a horror, a lesson to the world. 3*h rny opinion, we ought not to wait for the ifruitless instruction of calamity to inquire into the abuses which bring upon us ruin in the worst of forms, in the loss of our fame and virtue. But the right honourable gentleman (Mr. Dundas) says, in answer to all the power- ful alignments of my honourable friend " that this inquiry is of a delicate nature, and that the state will suffer detriment by the exposure of this transaction." But it is exposed; it is perfectly known in eveiy member, in every particle, and in every way, except that which may lead to a remedy. He knows that the papers of correspondence are printed, and that they are in every hand. He and delicacy arc a rare and singular coalition. He thinks that to divulge our Indian, politics may be highly dangerous. He ! the mover ! the chairman ! the reporter of the com- mittee of secrecy ! he that brought forth in the utmost detail, in several vast, printed folios, the most recondite parts of the politics, the mili- tary, the revenues of the British Empire in India. With six great chopping bastards, each as lusty as an infant Hercules, this delicate creature blushes at the sight of his new bride- groom, assumes a virgin delicacy ; or, to use a more fit as well as a more poetic comparison, the person so squeamish, so timid, so trembling lest the winds of heaven should visit too roughly, is expanded to broad sunshine, exposed like the sow of imperial augury, lying in the mud with all the prodigies of her fertility about her, as evidence of her delicate amours Triginta capitum lictus cnixa jacebat, Alba solo rccubaos albi circum ubcra nati. Whilst discovery of the misgovernment of others led to his own power, it was wise to inquire ; it was safe to publish ; there was then no delicacy ; there was then no danger. But when his object is obtained, and in his imitation he has outdone the crimes that he had repro- bated in volumes of reports, and in sheets of bills and penalties, then concealment becomes prudence ; and it concerns the safety of the state that we should not know, in a mode of parliamentary cognizance, what all the world knows but too well, that is, in what manner he chooses to dispose of the public revenues to the ci'eatures of his politics. The debate has been long, and as much so THE ORATOR. 183 on my part, at least as on the part of those who have spoken before me. But long as it is, the more material half of the subject has hardly been touched on ; that is, the corrupt and destructive system to which this debt has been rendered subservient, and which seems to be pursued with at least as much vigour and regularity as ever. If I considered your ease or my own, rather than the weight and import- ance of this question, I ought to make some apology to you, perhaps some apology to my- self, for having detained your attention so long. I know on what ground I tread. This subject, at one time taken up with so much fervour and zeal, is no longer a favourite in this House. The House itself has undergone a great and signal revolution. To some the subject is strange and uncouth ; to several harsh and distasteful ; to the relics of the last Pai'liament it is a matter of fear and apprehension. It is natural for those who have seen their friends sink in the tornado which raged during the last shift of the monsoon, and have hardly escaped on the planks of the general wreck it is but too natural for them, as soon as they make the rocks and quicksands of their former disasters, to put about their new-built barks, and, as much as possible, to keep aloof from this perilous lee shore. But let us do what we please to put India from our thoughts, we can do nothing to separate it from our public interest and our national reputation. Our attempts to banish this importunate duty will only make it return upon us again and again, and every time in a shape more unpleasant than the former. A government has been fabricated for that great province ; the right honourable gentleman says, that, therefore, you ought not to examine into his conduct. Heavens ! what an argument is this ! We are not to examine into the conduct of the direction, because it is an old govern- ment : we are not to examine into this Board of Control, because it is a new one. Then we are only to examine into the conduct of those who have no conduct to account for. Un- fortunately, the basis of this new government has been laid on old condemned delinquents, and its superstructure is raised out of pro- secutors turned into protectors. The event has been such as might be expected. But if it had been otherwise constituted; had it been constituted even as I wished, and as the mover of this question had planned, the better part of the proposed establishment was in the publicity of its proceedings; in its per- petual responsibility to Parliament. With out this check, what is our government at home, even awed, as every European govern- ment is, by an audience formed of the other states of Europe, by the applause or condem- nation of the discerning and critical company before which it acts ? But if the scene on the other side of the globe, which tempts, invites, almost compels to tyranny and rapine, be not inspected with the eye of a severe and unre- mitting vigilance, shame and destruction must ensue. For one, the worst event of this day, though it may deject, shall not break or subdue me. The call upon us is authoritative. Let who will shrink back, I shall be found at my post. Baffled, discountenanced, subdued, dis- credited, as the cause of justice and humanity is, it will be only the dearer to me. Whoever, therefore, shall at any time bring before yon anything towards the relief of our distressed fellow-citizens in India, and towards" a sub- version of the present most corrupt and op- pressive system for its government, in me shall find a weak, I am afraid, but a steady, earnest, and faithful assistant. LOUIS KOSSUTH. Born 1802. Living. EUROPEAN FIIEEDOM. IT is said of Pyrrhus, the king of Epirus, that he sent a messenger to ancient Rome, who, on his return, reported to his master that he had seen a. city of kings, where every man was as much a king as the king of Epirus himself. So I may say that I have seen the public opinion of the English people pronounced in such wise, that, as Lord Brougham, I believe, once said, in the voice of the people the thunder of the Almighty was felt. I have received a most kind greeting at Southampton, and ad- dresses have been sent to me from all parts of the kingdom so numerous, that in reading and answering them I have some idea of the public opinion of England ; but I see that public opinion incarnated in the great demon- strations of London, Birmingham, and Man- chester ; and those demonstrations loudly pro- claim, " Ye oppressed nations of Europe, be of good cheer ; the hour of delivery is at hand."/ I have experienced enough in my public life