 Speech given to the House of Commons on June 3rd, 1628 Mr. Speaker, we sit here as the Great Council of the King, and in that capacity, it is our duty to take into consideration the State and Affairs of the Kingdom, and when there is occasion, to give a true representation of them by way of counsel and advice with what we conceive necessary or expedient to be done. In this consideration, I confess many a sad thought hath affrighted me, and that not only in respect of our dangers from abroad, which yet I know are great, as they have been often pressed and dilated to us, but in respect of our disorders here at home, which do enforce those dangers, and by which they are occasioned. For I believe I shall make it clear to you that both at first the cause of these dangers were our disorders, and our disorders now are yet our greatest dangers, that not so much the potency of our enemies as the weakness of ourselves doth threaten us, so that the saying of one of the Fathers may be assumed by us, non-tam potentia sua-quam, negentia nostra, not so much by their power as by our neglect. Our want of true devotion to heaven, our insincerity and doubling in religion, our want of councils, our precipitated actions, the insufficiency or unfaithfulness of our generals abroad, the ignorance or corruption of our ministers at home, the impoverishing of the sovereign, the oppression and oppression of the subject, the exhausting of our treasures, the waste of our provisions, consumption of our ships, destruction of our men, these make the advantage to our enemies, not the reputation of their arms, and if in these there not be reformation, we need no foes abroad, time itself will ruin us. To show this more fully, I believe you will all hold it necessary that what I say should not seem an aspersion on the state or imputation on the government, as I have known such motions misinterpreted. But far is this for me to propose, who have none but clear thoughts of the excellency of the king, nor can I have other ends but the advancement of his majesty's glory. I shall desire a little of your patience extraordinary, as I lay open the particulars, which I shall do with what brevity I may, answerable to the importance of the cause and the necessity now upon us, yet with such respect and observation to the time as I hope it shall not be thought troublesome. For the first, then, our insincerity and doubling in religion is the greatest and most dangerous disorder of all others. These have never been unpunished, and of this we have many strong examples of all states and in all times to us. What testimony doth it want? Will you have authority of books? Look on the collections of the committee for religion. There is too clear an evidence. See there the commission procured for composition with the papus of the north. Mark the proceedings thereupon, and you will find them too little less amounting than a toleration in effect. The slight payments and the easiness of them will likewise show the favour that is intended. Will you have proofs of men? Witness the hopes, witness the presumptions, witness the reports of all the papus, generally. Observe the dispositions of commanders, the trust of officers, the confidence in secretaries to employments in this kingdom, in Ireland and elsewhere. These will all show that it hath too great a certainty, and to this add but the incontrovertible evidence of that all-powerful hand which we have felt so sorely that gave it full assurance for as the heavens oppose themselves to our impiety. So it is we that first opposed the heavens. For the second, our want of councils, that great disorder in a state under which there cannot be stability. If effects may show their causes, as they are often a perfect demonstration of them, our misfortunes, our disasters serve to prove our deficiencies in council and the consequences they draw with them. If reason be allowed in this dark age, the judgment of dependencies and foresight of contingencies in affairs, do confirm my position, for if we view ourselves at home, are we in strength, are we in reputation equal to our ancestors? If we view ourselves abroad, are our friends as many? Are our enemies no more? Do our friends retain their safety and possessions? Do not our enemies enlarge themselves and gain from them and us? To what council are we the loss of the Palatinate, where we sacrificed both our honor and our men sent thither, stopping those greater powers appointed for the service by which it might have been defended? What council gave direction to the late action, whose wounds are yet bleeding? I mean the expedition to Ray, of which there is yet so sad a memory in all men. What design for us, or advantage to our state could that impart? You know the wisdom of your ancestors, and the practice of their times, have they preserved their safeties. We all know, and have as much cause to doubt as they had, the greatness and ambition of that kingdom, which the old world could not satisfy. Notice this greatness and ambition? We likewise know the proceedings of that princess that never to be forgotten, excellent Queen Elizabeth, whose name without admiration falls not into mention even with her enemies. You know how she advanced herself, and how she advanced the nation in glory and in state, how she depressed her enemies, and how she upheld her friends, how she enjoyed a full security, and made those our scorn who now are made our terror. Some of the principles she built on were these, and if I mistake, let reason and our statesmen contradict me. First, to maintain in what she might, a unity in France, that the kingdom being at peace within itself, might be a bulwark to keep back the power of Spain by land. Next, to preserve an amity and a league between that state and us, that so we might come in aid of the low countries, and by that means receive their ships and help them by sea. This triple cord, so working between France, the states, Holland, and England, might enable us, as occasion should require, to give assistance unto others. And by this means, as the experience of that time doth tell us, we were not only free from those fears that now possess and trouble us, but then our names were fearful to our enemies. See now what correspondence see our action had with this. Try our conduct by these rules. It did induce, as a necessary consequence, a division in France between the Protestants and their king, of which there is too woeful and lamentable experience. It hath made an absolute breach between that state and us, and so entertains us against France, and France in preparation against us, that we have nothing to promise to our neighbors, nay, hardly to ourselves. Next, observe the time in which it was attempted, and you shall find it not only varying from those principles, but directly contrary and opposite to those ends. And such as from the issue and success, rather might be thought a conception of Spain than begotten here with us. And, Mr. Speaker, I am sorry for this interruption, but much more sorry if there hath been occasion on my part. And as I shall submit myself wholly to your judgment, to receive what censure you may give me, if I have offended, so in the integrity of my intentions and the clearness of my thoughts, I must still retain this confidence, that no greatness shall deter me from the duties I owe to the service of my king and country, but that, with a true English heart, I shall discharge myself as faithfully and as really, to the extent of my poor power, as any man whose honors or whose offices most strictly oblige him. You know the dangers of Denmark, and how much they concern us. What in respect of our alliance and the country? What in the importance of the sound? What an advantage to our enemies the gain thereof would be. What loss, what prejudice to us by this disunion, we breaking in upon France, France enraged by us, and the Netherlands at amazement between both? Neither could we intend to aid that luckless king, Christian IV of Denmark, whose loss is our disaster. Can those, the king's ministers, that express their trouble at the hearing of these things, and have so often told us in the place of their knowledge in the conjectures and disjunctures of affairs, can they say they advised in this? Was this an act of counsel, Mr. Speaker? I have more charity than to think it, and unless they make confession of it themselves, I cannot believe it. For the next, the insufficiency and unfaithfulness of our generals, that great sorter abroad, what shall I say? I wish there were not cause to mention it, and, but for the apprehension of the danger that is to come, if the like choice hereafter be not prevented, I could willingly be silent. But my duty to my sovereign, my service to this house, and the safety and honor of my country, are above all respects, and what so nearly trenches to the prejudice of these must not, shall not be forborn. At Cadiz then, in that first expedition we made, when we arrived and found a conquest ready, the Spanish ships I mean, fit for the satisfaction of a voyage, and of which some of the chiefest then there, themselves have since assured me that the satisfaction would have been sufficient, either in point of honor or in point of profit. Why was it neglected? Why was it not achieved, it being granted on all hands? How feasible it was. Afterward, when with the destruction of some of our men and the exposure of others, who, though their fortunes since has not been such, by chance came off safe, when I say with the loss of our serviceable men, that unserviceable fort was gained, and the whole army landed, why was there nothing done? Why was there nothing attempted? If nothing was intended, wherefore did they land? If there was a service, wherefore were they shipped again? Mr. Speaker, it satisfies me too much in this case, when I think of their dry and hungry march into that drunken quarter, for so the soldiers termed it, which was the period of their journey, that divers of our men being left as a sacrifice to the enemy. That labor was at an end. For the next undertaking, at Ray, I will not trouble you much, only this in short, was not that whole action carried out against the judgment and opinion of those officers that were of the council, was not the first, was not the last, was not all in the landing, in their entrenching, in the continuance there, in the assault, in the retreat, without their assent? Did any advice take place of such as were of the council? If there should be made a particular inquisition thereof, these things will be manifest, and more. I will not instance the manifesto that was made, giving the reason of these arms, nor by whom, nor in what manner, nor on what grounds it was published, nor what effects it hath wrought, drawing as it were, almost the whole world into league against us. Nor will I mention the leaving of the whims, the leaving of the salt which were in our possession, and of a value it is said to answer much of the expense. Nor will I dwell on that great wonder, which no Alexander or Caesar ever did, the enriching of the enemy by courtesies, when our soldiers wanted help, nor the private intercourse and parlay is with the fort, which were continually held. What they intended may be read in the success, and upon due examination thereof, they would not want their proofs. For the last voyage to Rochelle, there need no observations. It is so fresh in memory, nor will I make an inference or corollary on all. Your own knowledge shall judge what truth, or what sufficiency they express. For the next, the ignorance and the corruption of our ministers. Where can you miss of instances? If you survey the quarry, if you survey the country, if the church, if the city be examined, if you observe the bar, if the bench, if the ports, if the shipping, if the land, if the seas, all these will render you a variety of proofs. And that in such measure and proportion as shows the greatness of our disease, to be such that if there be not some speedy application for remedy, our case is almost desperate, Mr. Speaker. I fear I've been too long in these particulars that are past, and I'm unwilling to offend you. Therefore in the rest I shall be shorter, and as to that which concerns the impoverishing of the king, no other arguments will I use than such as all men grant. The exchequer you know is empty, and the reputation thereof gone. The ancient lands are sold, the jewels pawned, the plate engaged, the debts still great, almost all charges, both ordinary and extraordinary, born up by projects. What poverty can be greater? What necessity so great? That perfect English heart is not almost dissolved into sorrow for this truth. For the oppression of the subject, which as I remember is the next particular I proposed, it needs no demonstration. The whole kingdom is a proof. And for the exhausting of our treasures, that very oppression speaks it. What waste of our provisions? What consumption of our ships? What destruction of our men there hath been? Witness that expedition to Algiers. Witness that with Mansfeldt. Witness that to Cadiz. Witness the next. Witness that to Ray. Witness the last. I pray God we may never have more such witnesses. Witness likewise the Palatinate. Witness Denmark. Witness the Turks. Witness the Dunkirkers. Witness all! What losses we have sustained? How we are impaired in munitions, in ships, in men. It is beyond contradiction that we were never so much weakened, nor ever had less hope how to be restored. These, Mr. Speaker, are our dangers. These are they who do threaten us. And these are, like the Trojan horse, brought in cunningly to surprise us. In these do lurk the strongest of our enemies, ready to issue on us. And if we do not speedily expel them, these are the signs. These are the invitations to others. These will so prepare their entrance that we shall have no means left of refuge or defense. Or if we have these enemies at home, how can we strive with those that are abroad? If we be free from those, no other can impeach us. Our ancient English virtue, like the old Spartan Valor, cleared from these disorders. Our being in sincerity of religion, and once made friends with heaven. Having maturity of counsel, sufficiency of generals, incorruption of officers, opulency in the king, liberty in the people, repletion in treasure, plenty of provisions, reparation of ships, preservation of men. Our ancient English virtue, I say, thus rectified, will secure us. And unless there be a speedy reformation in these, I know not what hopes or expectations we can have. These are the things, sir, I shall desire to have taken into consideration. That as we are the great counsel of the kingdom, and have the apprehension of these dangers, we may truly represent them unto the king. Which I conceive we are bound to do by a triple obligation. Of duty to God, of duty to His majesty, and of duty to our country. And therefore I wish it may so stand but the wisdom and judgment of the house, that these things may be drawn into the body of a remonstrance. And in all humility expressed, with a prayer to His majesty, that for the safety of Himself, for the safety of the kingdom, and for the safety of religion, He will be pleased to give us time to make perfect inquisition thereof. Or to take them into His own wisdom, and there give them such timely reformation as the necessity and justice of the case stuff import. And thus, sir, with a large affection and loyalty to His majesty, and with a firm duty and service to my country, I have suddenly, and it may be with some disorder, expressed the weak apprehensions I have, wherein, if I have erred, I humbly crave your pardon. And so submit myself to the center of the house. End of speech. Recording by David Federman. Speech by George Digby. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by David Federman. Speech given to the House of Commons on April 21st, 1641. We are now upon the point of giving. As much as in us lies the final sentence unto death or life on a great minister of the state and peer of this kingdom, Thomas Earl of Stratford, a name of hatred in the present age for his practices and fit to be made a terror to future ages by his punishment. I have had the honor to be employed by the House in this great business from the first hour that it was taken into consideration. It was a matter of great trust and I will say with confidence that I have served the House in it not only with industry, according to my ability, but with most exact faithfulness and justice. And as I have hitherto discharged my duty to this house and to my country in the progress of this great cause, so I trust I shall do now in the last period of it, to God and to a good conscience. I do wish the peace of that to myself and the blessing of Almighty God to me and my posterity, according as my judgment on the life of this man shall be consonant with my heart and the best of my understanding in all integrity. I know well that by some things I have said of late while this bill was in agitation, I have raised some prejudices against me in the cause. Yay, some, I thank them for their plain dealing, have been so free as to tell me that I have suffered much by the backwardness I have shown in the bill of attainder of the Earl of Stratford, against whom I have formally been so keen so active. I beg of you, Mr. Speaker, and the rest, but a suspension of judgment concerning me, until I have opened my heart to you clearly and freely in this business. Truly, sir, I am still the same in my opinion and affections as to the Earl of Stratford. I confidently believe him to be the most dangerous minister, the most insupportable to free subjects that can be charactered. I believe his practices in themselves to have been as high and tyrannical as any subject ever ventured on, and the malignity of them greatly aggravated by those rare abilities of his, whereof God hath given him the use, but the devil, the application. In a word, I believe him to be still that grand apostate to the Commonwealth, who must not expect to be pardoned in this world, till he be dispatched to the other. And yet, let me tell you, Mr. Speaker, my hand must not be to that dispatch. I protest as my conscience stands informed, I had rather it were off. Let me unfold to you the mystery, Mr. Speaker. I will not dwell much upon justifying to you my seeming variance at this time from what I was formerly, by putting you in mind the difference between prosecutors and judges, how misbecoming that fervor would be in a judge, which perhaps was commendable in a prosecutor. Judges we are now, and must therefore put on another personage. It is honest and noble to be earnest in order to the discovery of truth, but when that hath been brought so far as it can be to light, our judgment thereupon ought to be calm and cautious. In prosecution upon probable grounds, we are accountable only for our industry or a misness, but in judgment we are deeply responsible to Almighty God for its rectitude or obliquity. In cases of life, the judge is God's steward of the party's blood and must give a strict account for every drop. But as I told you, Mr. Speaker, I will not insist long upon this ground of difference in me now from what I was formerly. The truth of it is, sir. The same ground whereupon I, with the rest of the few, to whom you first committed the consideration of my Lord Strafford, brought down our opinion that it was fit he should be accused of treason upon the same ground. I was engaged with earnestness in his prosecution and had the same ground remained in that force of belief in me, which till very lately it did, I should not have been tender in his condemnation. But truly, sir, to deal plainly with you, that ground of our accusation, that which should be the basis of our judgment of the Earl of Strafford as to treason, is, to my understanding, quite vanished away. This it was, Mr. Speaker, his advising the king to employ the army in Ireland to reduce England. This, I was assured, would be proved before I gave my consent to his accusation. I was confirmed in the same belief during the prosecution and fortified most of all in it, after Sir Henry Vain's preparatory examination by assurances which that worthy member Mr. Pine gave me, that his testimony would be made convincing by some notes of what past of the Junto concurrent with it. This I ever understood would be of some other counsellor, but you see now it proves only to be a copy of the same secretary's notes discovered and produced in the manner you have heard and those such disjointed fragments of the venomous parts of discourses. No results, no conclusions of councils, which are the only things that secretary should register, there being no use of the other but to accuse and bring men into danger. But Sir, this is not that which overthrows the evidence with me concerning the army in Ireland, nor yet that all the rest of the Junto remember nothing of it. But this, Sir, which I shall tell you, is that which works with me under favour to an utter overthrow of his evidence as touching the army of Ireland. Before, while I was prosecutor, under tie of secrecy, I might not discover any weakness of the cause, which now, as judge, I must. Mr. Secretary Vane was examined thrice upon oath at the preparatory committee. The first time he was questioned as to all the interrogatories, and to that part of the seventh which concerns the army of Ireland, he said positively these words. I cannot charge him with that, but for the rest he desired time to recollect himself, which was granted him. A few days after, he was examined a second time, and then deposed these words concerning the kings being absolved from rules of government, and so forth, very clearly. But being pressed as to that part concerning the Irish army, again he said he could say nothing to that. Here we thought be done with him, till divers weeks after, my Lord of Northumberland, and all others of the Junto, denying to have heard anything concerning those words of reducing England by the Irish army, it was thought fit to examine the secretary once more, and then he deposed these words to have been spoken by the Earl of Strafford to his majesty. You have an army in Ireland which you may employ here to reduce, or some word to that sense, this kingdom. Mr. Speaker, these are the circumstances which I confess with my conscience thrust quite out of doors that grand article of our charge concerning his desperate advice to the king of employing the Irish army here. Let not this, I beseech you, be driven to an aspersion upon Mr. Secretary as if he should have sworn otherwise than he knew or believed. He is too worthy to do that. Only let this much be inferred from it, that he who twice upon oath, with time of recollection, could not remember anything of such a business. Might well a third time misremember somewhat, and in this business, the difference of one word, here, for there, or that for this, quite alters the case. The latter also being the more probable, since it is confessed on all hands that the debate then was concerning a war with Scotland. And you may remember that at the bar he once said, employ there. And thus, Mr. Speaker, have I faithfully given you an account, what it is that hath blunted the edge of the hatchet, or bill with me, toward my lord Straford. This was that whereupon I accused him with a free heart, prosecuted him with earnestness, and had it to my understanding been proved, should have condemned him with innocence. Whereas I cannot satisfy my conscience to do it. I profess I can have no notion of anybody's intent to subvert the laws treasonably, but by force, and this design of force not appearing, all his other wicked practices cannot amount so high with me. I can find a more easy and natural spring from whence to derive all his other crimes, then from an intent to bring in tyranny, and make his own posterity as well as us slaves. This, from revenge, from pride, from passion, and from insolence of nature. But had this of the Irish army been proved, it would have diffused a complexion of treason overall. It would have been a whiff indeed, to bind all those other scattered and lesser branches, as it were, into a faggot of treason. I do not say that the rest of the things charged may represent my man as worthy to die, and perhaps worthier than many a traitor. I do not say, but they may justly direct us to an act, that they shall be treason for the future. But God keep me from giving judgment of death on any man, and of ruin to his innocent posterity, upon a law made a posteriori. Let the mark be set on the door where the plague is, and then let him that will enter die. I know, Mr. Speaker, there is in Parliament a double power of life and death by Bill, a judicial power, and a legislative. The measure of the one is what is legally just, of the other, what is potentially and politically fit for the good and preservation of the whole. But these two, under favour, are not to be confounded in judgment. We must not peace out want of legality, with matter of convenience, nor the defalance of prudential fitness, with the pretense of legal justice. To condemn my Lord Strafford judicially as for treason, my conscience is not assured that the matter will bear it, and to do it by legislative power, my reason consultively cannot agree to that, since I am persuaded that neither the Lords nor the King will pass this bill, and consequently, that our passing it will be a cause of great divisions and contentions in the state. Therefore, my humble advice is, that laying aside this bill of attainder, we may think of another saving only life, such as may secure the state from my Lord of Strafford, without endangering it as much by division concerning his punishment, as he hath endangered it by his practices. If this may not be harkened unto, let me conclude in saying that to you all, which I have thoroughly inculcated upon my own conscience on this occasion, let every man lay his hand upon his own heart, and seriously consider what we are going to do with a breath, either justice or murder, justice on the one side or murder, heightened and aggravated, to its supremist extent on the other, for, as the casuists say, he who lies with his sister commits incest, but he that marries his sister sins higher by applying God's ordinance to his crime, so doubtless, he that commits murder with the sword of justice, heightens that crime to the utmost. The danger being so great, and the case so doubtful, that I see the best lawyers in diametrical opposition concerning it, let every man wipe his heart as he does his eyes, when he would judge of a nice and subtle object. The eye, if it be pretinkered with any color, is vitiated in its discerning. Let us take heed of a bloodshotten eye in judgment. Let every man purge his heart clear of all passions. I know this great and wise body politic can have none, but I speak to individuals from the weakness which I find in myself, away with personal animosities, away with all flatteries to the people in being the sharper against him because he is odious to them, away with all fears lest by sparing his blood they may be incensed, away with all such considerations as that is not fit for a parlent that one accused by it of treason should escape with life. Let not former vehemence of any against him, nor fear from thence that he cannot be safe while that man lives. Be an ingredient in the sentence of any one of us. Of all these corruptives of judgment, Mr. Speaker, I do before God discharge myself to the utmost of my power, and do now with a clear conscience wash my hands of this man's blood by this solemn protestation, that my vote goes not to the taking of the Earl of Strafford's life. This reading by Karl Manchester, 2008. Speech given by Oliver Cromwell to the House of Commons on the occasion of the dissolution of the Rump Parliament, 20th of April, 1653. It is high time for me to put an end to your sitting in this place, which you have dishonoured by your contempt of all virtue, and defiled by your practice of every vice. You are a factious crew, and enemies to all good government. You are a pack of mercenary wretches, and would like Esau sell your country for a mess of potage, and like Judas betray your God for a few pieces of money. Is there a single virtue now remaining amongst you? Is there one vice you do not possess? You have no more religion than my horse. Gold is your God. Which of you have not bartered your conscience for bribes? Is there a man amongst you that has the least care for the good of the Commonwealth? Ye sordid prostitutes, have you not defiled this sacred place, and turned the Lord's temple into a den of thieves by your immoral principles and wicked practices? Ye are grown intolerably odious to the whole nation. You were deputed here by the people to get grievances redressed. Are yourselves become the greatest grievance? Your country therefore calls upon me to cleanse this Orgene stable by putting a final period to your iniquitous proceedings in this house, and which by God's help and the strength he has given me I am now come to do. I command ye therefore, upon the peril of your lives, to depart immediately out of this place. Go, get you out. Make haste. Ye venal slaves be gone. So, take away that shining bauble there, and lock up the doors. In the name of God. Go. End of speech. Sir, we have heard a great deal about parliamentary armies, and about an army continued from year to year. I have always been, sir, and always shall be, against a standing army of any kind. To me it is a terrible thing, whether under that of parliamentary or any other designation. A standing army is still a standing army, whatever name it be called by. They are a body of men distinct from the body of the people. They are governed by different laws, and blind obedience and an entire submission to the orders of their commanding officer is their only principle. The nations around us are already enslaved, and have been enslaved by these very means. By means of their standing armies they have every one lost their liberties. It is indeed impossible that the liberties of the people can be preserved in any country where a numerous standing army is kept up. Shall we then take any of our measures from the examples of our neighbours? No, sir, on the contrary. From their misfortunes we ought to learn to avoid those rocks upon which they have split. It signifies nothing to tell me that our army is commanded by such gentlemen as cannot be supposed to join in any measures for enslaving their country. It may be so. I hope it is so. I have a very good opinion of many gentlemen now in the army. I believe they would not join in any such measures, but their lives are uncertain. Nor can we be sure how long they may be continued in command. They may be all dismissed in a moment and proper tools of power put in their room. Besides, sir, we know the passions of men. We know how dangerous it is to trust the best of men with too much power. Where was there a braver army than that under Julius Caesar? Where was there ever an army that had served their country more faithfully? That army was commanded generally by the best citizens of Rome, by men of great fortune and figure in their country. Yet that army enslaved their country. The affections of the soldiers toward their country, the honour and integrity of the under officers, are not to be depended on. By the military law the administration of justice is so quick and the punishment so severe that neither officer nor soldier dares offer to dispute the orders of his supreme commander. He must not consult his own inclinations. If an officer were commanded to pull his own father out of his house, he must do it. He dares not disobey. Immediate death would be the sure consequence of the least grumbling. And if an officer were sent into the court of requests, accompanied by a body of musketeers with screwed bare nets, and with orders to tell us what we ought to do and how we were to vote, I know what would be the duty of this house. I know it would be our duty to order the officer to be taken and hanged up at the door of the lobby. But sir, I doubt much if such a spirit could be found in the house or in any house of commons that will ever be in England. Sir, I talk not of imaginary things. I talk of what has happened to an English house of commons and from an English army, and not only from an English army, but an army that was raised by that very house of commons, an army that was paid by them, and an army that was commanded by generals appointed by them. Therefore do not let us vainly imagine that an army raised and maintained by authority of parliament will always be submissive to them. If an army be so numerous as to have it in their power to overall the parliament, they will be submissive as long as the parliament does nothing to disablage their favourite general. But when that case happens, I am afraid that in place of parliaments dismissing the army, the army will dismiss the parliament as they have done here to fall. Nor does the legality or illegality of that parliament or of that army alter the case. For with respect to that army and according to their way of thinking, the parliament dismissed by them was a legal parliament. They were an army raised and maintained according to law, and at first they were raised as they imagined for the preservation of those liberties which they afterward destroyed. It has been urged, sir, that whoever is for the Protestant succession must be for continuing the army. For that very reason, sir, I am against continuing the army. I know that neither the Protestant succession in His Majesty's most illustrious house nor any succession can ever be safe so long as there is a standing army in the country. Armies, sir, have no regard to hereditary successions. The first two seizes at Rome did pretty well and find means to keep their armies in tolerable subjection because the generals and officers were all their own creatures. But how did it fare with their successors? Was not every one of them named by the army without any regard to hereditary right or to any right? A cobbler, a gardener, or any man who happened to raise himself in the army and could gain their affections was made emperor of the world. Was not every succeeding emperor raised to the throne or tumbled headlong into the dust according to the mere whim or mad frenzy of the soldiers? We are told this army is desired to be continued but for one year longer or for a limited term of years. How absurd is this distinction? Is there any army in the world continued for any term of years? Does the most absolute monarch tell his army that he is to continue them any number of years or any number of months? How long have we already continued our army from year to year and if it is thus continued, wherein will it differ from the standing armies of those countries which have already submitted their next to the yoke? We are now come to the Rubicon. Our army is now to be reduced or never will. From his majesty's own mouth we are assured of a profound tranquility abroad and we know there is one at home. If this is not a proper time, if these circumstances do not afford us a safe opportunity for reducing at least a part of our regular forces, we never can expect to see any reduction. This nation already overburdened with debts and taxes must be loaded with the heavy charge of perpetually supporting a numerous standing army and remain forever exposed to the danger of having its liberties and privileges trampled upon by any future king or ministry who shall take in their head to do so and shall take a proper care to model the army for that purpose. End of speech. Our political architects have taken a survey of the fabric of the British Constitution. It is singular that they report nothing against the crown, nothing against the lords, but in the House of Commons everything is unsound. It is ruinous in every part. It is infested by the dry rot and ready to tumble about our ears without their immediate help. You know by the faults they find what are their ideas of the alteration. As all government stands upon opinion, they know that the way to utterly destroy it is to remove that opinion, to take away all reverence, all confidence from it, and then at the first blast of public discontent and popular tumult it tumbles to the ground. In considering this question, they who oppose it oppose it on different grounds. One is in the nature of a previous question that some alterations may be expedient, but that this is not the time for making them. The other is that no essential alterations are at all wanting, and that neither now nor at any time is it prudent or safe to be meddling with the fundamental principles and ancient tried usages of our Constitution, that our representation is as nearly perfect as the necessary imperfection of human affairs and of human creatures will suffer it to be, and that it is a subject of prudent and honest use and thankful enjoyment, and not of captious criticism and rash experiment. On the other side there are two parties who proceed on two grounds, in my opinion as they state them utterly irreconcilable. The one is juridical, the other political. The one is in the nature of a claim of right, on the supposed rights of man as man, this party desire the decision of a suit. The other ground, as far as I can divine what it directly means, is that the representation is not so politically framed as to answer the theory of its institution. As to the claim of right, the meanest petitioner, the most gross and ignorant, is as good as the best. In some respects his claim is more favorable on account of his ignorance. His weakness, his poverty, and his stress only add to his titles. He soothes in form of populace. He ought to be a favorite of the court. But when the other ground is taken, when the question is political, when a new constitution is to be made on a sound theory of government, then the presumptuous pride of didactic ignorance is to be excluded from the council in this high and arduous manner, which often bids defiance to the experience of the wisest. The first claims a personal representation, the latter rejects it with scorn and fervor. The language of the first party is plain and intelligible. They who plead an absolute right cannot be satisfied with anything short of personal representation, because all natural rights must be the rights of individuals, as by nature there is no such thing as politic or corporate personality. All these ideas are merely fictions of law, they are creatures of voluntary institution, men as men are individuals and nothing else. They therefore, who reject the principle of natural and personal representation, are essentially and eternally at variance with those who claim it. As to the first sort of reformers, it is ridiculous to talk to them of the British constitution upon any or all of its bases, for they lay it down that every man ought to govern himself, and that where he cannot go himself he must send his representative, that all other government is usurpation, and is so far from having a claim to our obedience, that it is not only our right, but our duty to resist it. Nine-tenths of the reformers argue thus, that is, on the natural right. It is impossible not to make some reflection on the nature of this claim, or avoid a comparison between the extent of the principle and the present object of the demand. If this claim be founded, it is clear to what it goes. The House of Commons, in that light, undoubtedly is no representative of the people as a collection of individuals. Nobody pretends it. Nobody can justify such an assertion. When you come to examine into this claim of right, founded on the right of self-government in each individual, you find the thing demanded infinitely short of the principle of the demand. What, one-third only of the legislature, of the government, no share at all? What sort of treaty of partition is this for those who have no inherent right to the whole? Give them all they ask, and your grant is still a cheat. For how comes only a third to be their younger children's fortune in this settlement? How came they neither to have the choice of kings, or lords, or judges, or generals, or admirals, or bishops, or priests, or ministers, or justices of peace? Why, what have you to answer in favour of the prior rights of the crown and peerage but this? Our constitution is a prescriptive constitution. It is a constitution whose sole authority is that it has existed time out of mind. It is settled in these two portions against one, legislatively, and in the whole of the judicature, the whole of the federal capacity, of the executive, the prudential and the financial administration, in one alone. Nor were your house of lords and the prerogatives of the crown settled on any adjudication in favour of natural rights, for they could never be so portioned. Your king, your lords, your judges, your juries, grand and little, are all prescriptive, and what proves it is the disputes not yet concluded, and never becoming so, when any of them first originated. Prescription is the most solid of all titles, not only to property, but which is to secure that property to government. They harmonise with each other and give mutual aid to one another. It is accompanied with another ground of authority in the constitution of the human mind. Presumption. It is a presumption in favour of any settled scheme of government against any untried project that a nation has long existed and flourished under it. It is a better presumption, even of the choice of a nation, far better than any sudden and temporary arrangement by actual election. Because a nation is not an idea only of local extent and individual momentary aggregation, but it is an idea of continuity, which extends in time as well as in numbers and in space. And this is a choice not of one day or one set of people, not a tumultuary and giddy choice. It is a deliberate election of ages and of generations. It is a constitution made by what is ten thousand times better than choice. It is made by the peculiar circumstances, occasions, tempers, dispositions, and moral, civil and social habitudes of the people, which disclose themselves only in a long space of time. It is a vestiment which accommodates itself to the body. Nor is prescription of government formed upon blind, unmeaning prejudices, for man is a most unwise and a most wise being. The individual is foolish. The multitude, for the moment, are foolish when they act without deliberation. But the species is wise. And when time is given to it, as a species, it almost always acts right. The reason for the crown as it is, for the lords as they are, is my reason for the commons as they are, the electors as they are. Now, if the crown and the lords and the judicatures are all prescriptive, so is the house of commons of the very same origin and of no other. We and our electors have power and privileges both made and circumscribed by prescription, as much to the full as to the other parts, and as such we have always claimed them, and on no other title. The house of commons is a legislative body corporate by prescription, not made upon any given theory, but existing prescriptively, just like the rest. This prescription has made it essentially what it is, an aggregate collection of three parts, knights, citizens, burgesses. The question is whether this has been always so, since the house of commons has taken its presence, shape, and circumstances, and has been an essential operative part of the constitution, which I take it has been for at least five hundred years. This I resolve to myself in the affirmative, and then another question arises whether this house stands firm upon its ancient foundations, and is not, by time and accidents, so declined from its perpendicular as to want the hand of the wise and experienced architects of the day to set it upright again, and to prop and buttress it up for duration. Whether it continues true to the principles upon which it has hitherto stood, whether this be de facto the constitution of the house of commons, as it has been since the time that the house of commons has, without dispute, become a necessary and an efficient part of the British constitution. To ask whether a thing, which has always been the same, stands to its usual principle seems to me to be perfectly absurd, for how do you know the principles but from the construction? And if that remains the same, the principles remain the same. It is true that to say your constitution is what it has been, is no sufficient defense for those who say it is a bad constitution. It is an answer to those who say that it is a degenerate constitution. To those who say it is a bad one, I answer, look to its effects. In all moral machinery the moral results are its test. On what grounds do we go to restore our constitution to what it has been at some given period, or to reform and reconstruct it upon principles more comfortable to a sound theory of government? A prescriptive government, such as ours, never was the work of any legislator, nor was made upon any foregone theory. It seems to me a preposterous way of reasoning, and a perfect confusion of ideas, to take the theories which learned and speculative men have made from that government, and then supposing it made on these theories which were made from it to accuse the government as not corresponding with them. I do not vilify theory and speculation. No, because that would be to vilify reason itself. Neke-disseptor ratio neke-dissept-unquam. No, whenever I speak against theory I mean always a weak, erroneous, fallacious, unfounded, or imperfect theory, and one of the ways of discovering that it is a false theory is by comparing it with practice. This is the true touchstone of all theories which regard man and the affairs of men. Does it suit his nature in general? Does it suit his nature as modified by his habits? The more frequently this affair is discussed, the stronger the case appears to the sense and the feeling of mankind. I have no more doubt than I entertain of my existence that this very thing, which is stated as a horrible thing, is the means of the preservation of our constitution whilst it lasts, of curing it of many of the disorders which, attending every species of institution, would attend the principle of an exact local representation or a representation on the principle of numbers. If you reject personal representation, you are pushed upon expedience, and then what they wish us to do is to prefer their speculations on that subject to the happy experience of this country of a growing liberty and a growing prosperity for five hundred years. Whatever respect I have for their talents, this for one I will not do. Then what is the standard of expedience? Expedience is that which is good for the community and good for every individual in it. Now, this experience is the desideratum to be sought, either without the experience of means or with that experience. If without, as in the case of the fabrication of a new commonwealth, I will hear the learned arguing what promises to be expedient. But if we are to judge of a commonwealth actually existing, the first thing I inquire is, what has been found expedient or inexpedient? And I will not take their promise rather than the performance of the constitution. But no, this was not the cause of the discontents. I went through most of the northern parts, the Yorkshire election was then raging, the year before, through most of the western counties, Bath, Bristol, Gloucester, not one word, either in the towns or country, on the subject of representation. Much on the receipt tax, something on Mr. Fox's ambition, much greater apprehension of danger from thence than from the want of representation. One would think that the ballast of the ship was shifted with us, and that our constitution had the gunnel under water. But can you fairly and distinctly point out what one evil or grievance has happened, which you can refer to the representative not following the opinion of its constituents? What one symptom do we find of this inequality? But it is not an arithmetical inequality with which we ought to trouble ourselves. If there be a moral, a political equality, this is the decideratum in our constitution and in every constitution in the world. Moral inequality is as between places and between classes. Now I ask, what advantage do you find that the places which abound in representation possess over others in which it is more scanty, insecurity for freedom, insecurity for justice, or in any one of those means of procuring temporal prosperity and eternal happiness, the ends for which society was formed? Are the local interests of Cornwall and Wiltshire, for instance, their roads, canals, their prisons, their police, better than Yorkshire, Warwickshire, or Staffordshire? Warwick has members. Is Warwick or Stafford more opulent, happy, or free, than Newcastle or than Birmingham is? Is Wiltshire the pampered favorite, whilst Yorkshire, like the child of the Bond woman, is turned out to the desert? This is like the unhappy persons who live, if they can be said to live, in the statical chair, who are ever feeling their pulse and who do not judge of health by the aptitude of the body to perform its functions, but by their ideas of what ought to be the true balance between the several secretions? Is a committee of Cornwall, etc., thronged and the others deserted? No, you have an equal representation, because you have men equally interested in the prosperity of the whole, who are involved in the general interest and the general sympathy, and perhaps these places furnishing a superfluity of public agents and administrators, whether in strictness they are representatives or not, I do not mean to inquire, but they are agents and administrators, will stand clearer of local interests, passions, prejudices, and cabals than the others, and therefore preserve the balance of the parts, and with a more general view and a more steady hand than the rest. In every political proposal we must not leave out of the question the political views and object of the proposer, and these we discover not by what he says, but by the principles he lays down. I mean, says he, a moderate and temperate reform, that is, I mean to do as little good as possible. If the Constitution be what you represent it, and there be no danger in the change, you do wrong not to make the reform commensurate to the abuse. Fine reformer indeed, generous donor, what is the cause of this parsimony of the liberty which you dole out to the people? Why all this limitation in giving blessings and benefits to mankind? You admit that there is an extreme in liberty which may be infinitely noxious to those who are to receive it, and which in the end will leave them no liberty at all. I think so too. They know it, and they feel it. The question is, then, what is the standard of that extreme? What that gentleman, and the associations, or some parts of their phalanxes think proper? Then our liberties are in their pleasure. It depends on their arbitrary will how far I shall be free. I will have none of that freedom. If therefore the standard of moderation be sought for, I will seek for it. Where? Not in their fancies, nor in my own. I will seek for it where I know it is to be found, in the Constitution I actually enjoy. Here it says, to an encroaching prerogative, your scepter has its length. You cannot add a hair to your head, or a gem to your crown, but what an eternal law has given to it. Here it says to an overweening peerage, your pride finds banks that it cannot overflow. Here, to a tumultuous and giddy people, there is a bound to the raging of the sea. Our Constitution is like our island, which uses and restrains its subject sea, in vain the waves roar. In that Constitution I know, and exultingly I feel, both that I am free and that I am not free dangerously to myself or to others. I know that no power on earth, acting as I ought to do, can touch my life, my liberty, or my property. I have that inward and dignified consciousness of my own security and independence, which constitutes, and is the only thing which does constitute, the proud and comfortable sentiment of freedom in the human breast. I know too, and I bless God for my safe mediocrity. I know that if I possessed all the talents of the gentleman on the side of the house I sit, and on the other, I cannot by royal favor or by popular delusion or by oligarchical cabal elevate myself above a certain very limited point, so as to endanger my own fall or the ruin of my country. I know there is an order that keeps things fast in their place. It is made to us, and we are made to it. Why not ask another wife, other children, another body, another mind? The great object of most of these reformers is to prepare the destruction of the constitution by disgracing and discrediting the House of Commons. For they think, prudently in my opinion, that if they can persuade the nation that the House of Commons is so constituted as not to secure the public liberty, not to have a proper connection with the public interests, so constituted as not, either actually or virtually, to be the representative of the people, it will be easy to prove that a government composed of a monarchy and oligarchy chosen by the crown and such a House of Commons, whatever good can be in such a system, can by no means be a system of free government. The constitution of England is never to have a quietess. It is to be continually vilified, attacked, reproached, resisted, instead of being the hope and sure anchor in all storms, instead of being the means of redress to all grievances, itself is the grand grievance of the nation, our shame instead of our glory. If the only specific plan proposed, individual personal representation, is directly rejected by the person who is looked on as the great support of this business, then the only way of considering it is as a question of convenience. An honourable gentleman prefers the individual to the present. He therefore himself sees no middle term whatsoever, and therefore prefers of what he sees the individual. This is the only thing distinct and sensible that has been advocated. He has, then, a scheme which is the individual representation. He is not at a loss, not inconsistent, which scheme the other right honourable gentleman reparates. Now, what does this go to but to lead directly to anarchy? For to discredit the only government which he either possesses or can project, what is this but to destroy all government, and this is anarchy. My right honourable friend, in supporting this motion, disgraces his friends and justifies his enemies in order to blacken the constitution of his country, even of that House of Commons which supported him. There is a difference between a moral or political exposure of a public evil, relative to the administration of government, whether in men or systems, and a declaration of defects, real or supposed in the fundamental constitution of your country. The first may be cured in the individual by the motives of religion, virtue, honour, fear, shame, or interest. Men may be made to abandon also false systems by exposing their absurdity or mischievous tendency to their own better thoughts, or to the contempt or indignation of the public, and after all, if they should exist and exist uncorrected, they only disgrace individuals as fugitive opinions. But it is quite otherwise with the frame and constitution of the State. If that is disgraced, patriotism is destroyed in its very source. No man has ever willingly obeyed, much less was desirous of defending with his blood a mischievous and absurd scheme of government. Our first, our dearest, most comprehensive relation, our country, is gone. It suggests melancholy reflections in consequence of the strange course we have long held, that we are now no longer quarreling about the character or about the conduct of men or the tenor of measures, but we are grown out of humor with the English constitution itself. This is become the object of the animosity of Englishmen. This constitution, in former days, used to be the admiration and the envy of the world. It was the pattern for politicians, the theme of the eloquent, the mediation of the philosopher in every part of the world. As to Englishmen, it was their pride, their consolation. By it they lived, for it they were ready to die. Its defects, if it had any, were partly covered by partiality and partly borne by prudence. Now, all its excellencies are forgotten, its faults are now forcibly dragged into day, exaggerated by every artifice of representation. It is despised and rejected of men, and every device and invention of ingenuity or idleness set up in opposition or in preference to it. It is to this humor, and it is to the measures growing out of it, that I set myself, I hope not alone, in the most determined opposition. Never before did we at any time in this country meet upon the theory of our frame of government to sit in judgment on the constitution of our country, to call it as a delinquent before us, and to accuse it of every defect and every vice, to see whether it, an object of our veneration, even our adoration, did or did not accord with a preconceived scheme in the minds of certain gentlemen. Cast your eyes on the journals of parliament. It is for fear of losing the inestimable treasure we have that I do not venture to game it out of my hands for the vain hope of improving it. I look with filial reverence on the constitution of my country, and never will cut it in pieces, and put it into the kettle of any magician, in order to boil it with the puddle of their compounds into youth and vigor. On the contrary, I will drive away such pretenders, I will nurse its venerable age, and with lenient arts extend a parent's breath. End of speech. Speech by William Wilberforce. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Icy Jumbo. Speech given to the House of Commons on the 12th of May 1789 by William Wilberforce. When I consider the magnitude of the subject which I am to bring before the House, a subject in which the interests not of this country nor of Europe alone, but of the whole world and of posterity are involved, and when I think at the same time on the weakness of the advocate who has undertaken this great cause, when these reflections press upon my mind, it is impossible for me not to feel both terrified and concerned at my own inadequacy to such a task. But when I reflect, however, on the encouragement which I have had through the whole course of a long and laborious examination of this question, and how much candour I have experienced, and how conviction has increased within my own mind in proportion as I have advanced in my labours, when I reflect especially that however averse any gentleman may now be, yet we shall all be of one opinion in the end. When I turn myself to these thoughts I take courage, I determine to forget all my other fears, and I march forward with a firmer step in the full assurance that my cause will bear me out, and that I shall be able to justify upon the clearest principles every resolution in my hand, the avowed end of which is the total abolition of the slave trade. I wish exceedingly in the outset to guard both myself and the house from entering into the subject with any sort of passion. It is not their passions I shall appeal to. I ask only for their cool and impartial reason, and I wish not to take them by surprise, but to deliberate point by point upon every part of this question. I mean not to accuse any one, but to take the shame upon myself, in common indeed with the whole Parliament of Great Britain, for having suffered this horrid trade to be carried on under their authority. We are all guilty. We ought all to plead guilty, and not to exculpate ourselves by throwing the blame on others, and I therefore deprecate every kind of reflection against the various descriptions of people who are more immediately involved in this wretched business. Having now disposed of the first part of this subject, I must speak of the transit of the slaves in the West Indies. This I confess, in my own opinion, is the most wretched part of the whole subject. So much misery condensed in so little room is more than the human imagination had ever before conceived. I will not accuse the Liverpool merchants. I will allow them, nay, I will believe them to be men of humanity, and I will therefore believe if it were not for the enormous magnitude and extent of the evil which distracts their attention from individual cases, and makes them think generally, and therefore less feelingly, on the subject, they would never have persisted in the trade. I verily believe, therefore, if the wretchedness of any one of the many hundred negroes stowed in each ship could be brought before their view, and remain within the sight of the African merchant, that there is no one among them whose heart would bear it. Let any one imagine to himself six or seven hundred of these wretches chained to and to, surrounded with every object that is nauseous and disgusting, diseased and struggling under every kind of wretchedness. How can we bear to think of such a scene as this? One would think it had been determined to heap upon them all the varieties of bodily pain, for the purpose of blunting the feelings of the mind. And yet, in this very point, to show the power of human prejudice, the situation of the slaves has been described by Mr. Norris, one of the Liverpool delegates, in a manner which I am sure will convince the house how interest can draw a film across the eyes so thick that total blindness could do no more, and how it is our duty, therefore, to trust not to the reasonings of interested men, or to their way of colouring a transaction. Their apartments, says Mr. Norris, are fitted up as much for their advantage as circumstances will admit. The right ankle of one indeed is connected with the left ankle of another by a small iron fetter, and if they are turbulent, by another on their wrists. They have several meals a day, some of their own country provisions, with the best sources of African cookery, and by way of variety another meal of pulse according to European taste. After breakfast, they have water to wash themselves, while their apartments are perfumed with frankincense and lime juice. Before dinner, they are amused after the manner of their country. The song and dance are promoted, and, as if the whole was really a scene of pleasure and dissipation, it is added that games of chance are furnished. The men play and sing, while the women and girls make fanciful ornaments with beads, which they are plentifully supplied with. Such is the sort of strain in which the Liverpool delegates, and particularly Mr. Norris, gave evidence before the Privy Council. What will the house think when, by the concurring testimony of other witnesses, the true history is laid open? The slaves, who are sometimes described as rejoicing at their captivity, are so rung with misery at leaving their country that it is the constant practice to set sail at night, lest they should be sensible of their departure. The pulse which Mr. Norris talks of are horse-beens, and the scantiness, both of water and provision, was suggested by the very legislature of Jamaica in the report of their committee, to be a subject that called for the interference of Parliament. Mr. Norris talks of frankincense and lime juice. When surgeons tell you the slaves are stowed so close that there is not room to tread among them, and when you have it in evidence from Sir George Young that even in a ship which wanted two hundred of her complement the stench was intolerable. The song and the dance, says Mr. Norris, are promoted. It had been more fair, perhaps, if he had explained that word promoted. The truth is that for the sake of exercise these miserable wretches loaded with chains, oppressed with disease and wretchedness, are forced to dance by the terror of the lash, and sometimes by the actual use of it. I, says one of the other evidences, was employed to dance the men, while another person danced the women. Such, then, is the meaning of the word promoted, and it may be observed, too, with respect to food, that an instrument is sometimes carried out in order to force them to eat, which is the same sort of proof how much they enjoy themselves in that instance also. As to their singing, what shall we say when we are told that their songs are songs of lamentation upon their departure, which, while they sing, are always in tears, in so much that one captain, more humane as I should conceive him, therefore than the rest, threatened one of the women with a flogging because the mournfulness of her song was too painful for his feelings. In order, however, not to trust too much to any sort of description, I will call the attention of the house to one species of evidence which is absolutely infallible. Death, at least, is a sure ground of evidence, and the proportion of deaths will not only confirm, but if possible, will even aggravate our suspicion of their misery in the transit. It will be found, upon an average of all the ships of which evidence has been given at the Privy Council, that exclusive of those who perish before they sail, not less than 12.5% perish in the passage. Besides these, the Jamaica report tells you that not less than 4.5% die on the shore before the day of sail, which is only a week or two from the time of landing. One third more die in the seasoning, and this in a country exactly like their own, where they are healthy and happy as some of the evidences would pretend. The diseases, however, which they contract on ship-board, the astringent washes which are to hide their wounds, and the mischievous tricks used to make them up for sail, are, as the Jamaica report says, a most precious and valuable report which I shall often have to advert to, one principal cause of this mortality. Upon the whole, however, here is mortality of about 50%, and this among negroes who are not bought unless, as the phrase is with cattle, they are sound in wind and limb. How then can the house refuse its belief to the multiplied testimonies before the privy council of the savage treatment of the negroes in the middle passage? Nay, indeed, what need is there of any evidence? The number of deaths speaks for itself, and makes all such enquiries superfluous. As soon as ever I had arrived thus far in my investigation of the slave trade, I confessed to you, sir, so enormous, so dreadful, so irremediable did its wickedness appear that my own mind was completely made up for the abolition. A trade founded in iniquity, and carried on as this was, must be abolished. Let the policy be what it might. Let the consequences be what they would. I from this time determined that I would never rest till I had effected its abolition. End of speech. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Speech given to the House of Commons on 3 March 1831 by Sir Robert Peale. This speech is abridged. We should do well to consider, before we consent to the condemnation of our own institutions, what are the dangers which menace states with ruin or decay. Compare our fate with other countries of Europe during the period of the last century and a half. Not one has been exempt from the miseries of foreign invasion. Scarcely one has preserved its independence and violate. In how many have there been changes of the dynasty or the severest conflicts between the several orders of the state? In this country we have had to encounter severe trials and have encountered them with uniform success. Amid foreign wars, the shock of disputed successions, rebellion at home, extreme distress, the bitter contention of parties, the institutions of this country have stood uninjured. The ambition of military conquerors, of men endeared by success to discipline armies, never have endangered and never could endanger the supremacy of the law or master the control of public opinion. These were the powerful instruments that shattered with impunity the staff of Marlborough and crumpled into dust the power of Wellington. Other states have fallen from the too great influence of a military spirit and the absorption of power by standing armies. What is the character of the armies which our commanders led to victory? The most formidable engines that skill or valor could direct against a foreign enemy, but in peace the pliant submissive instruments of civil power. Give us, says the member for Waterford, give us for the repression of outrage and insurrection the regular army, for the people respect it for its courage and love it for its courteous forbearance and patience and ready subjection to the law. And what, sir, are the practical advantages which we are now promised, as the consequence of the change we are invited to make, as the compensation for the risk we must incur? Positively not one. Up to this hour no one has pretended that we shall gain anything by the change, excepting indeed that we shall conciliate the public favour. Why, no doubt, you cannot propose to share your power with half a million of men without gaining some popularity, without purchasing, by such a bribe, some portion of good will. But these are vulgar arts of government. Others will outbid you, not now, but at no remote period. They will offer votes and power to a million of men, will quote your precedent for the concession, and will carry your principles to their legitimate and natural consequences. Let us never be tempted to resign the well-tempered freedom with which we enjoy in the ridiculous pursuit of the wild liberty which France has established. What avails that liberty that has neither justice nor wisdom for its companions, which neither brings peace nor prosperity in its train? It was the duty of the King's government to abstain from agitating this question at such a period as the present, to abstain from the excitement throughout this land of that conflict. God grant that it may be only a moral conflict which must arise between the possessors of existing privileges and those to whom they are to be transferred. It was the duty of the government to calm, not to stimulate, the fever of popular excitement. They have adopted a different course. They have sent through the land the firebrand of agitation, and no one can now recall it. Let us hope that there are limits to their powers of mischief. They have, like the giant enemy of the Philistines, lighted three hundred brands and scattered through the country discord and dismay. But God forbid that they should, like him, have the power to concentrate in death all the energies that belong to life, and to signalize their own destruction by bowing to the earth the pillars of that sacred edifice, which contains within its walls, according, even to their own admission, the noblest society of free men in the world. The honorable member who moved the amendment has brought forward questions which have also been dwelt upon by other members, and he has asked me whether I will support them. He has mentioned the question of the ballot. He has mentioned the question of the extension of the suffrage and the question of triennial parliaments. These he has brought forward in three separate amendments, all forming parts of the same measure. He has put his powders into three separate papers as portions of the same medicine. I am not going now to enter into the reasons and arguments with which each of these measures may be supported or opposed. I will not enter into the discussions of the question generally, but I am bound to give some explanation of my views with regard to the Reform Act in relation to my present position. I cannot conceal the disadvantages and the injuries to which the Reform Act is subject. I admit that at the late elections corruption and intimidation prevailed to a very lamentable extent. I admit that some parts of the Reform Act are the means of making it a source of great vexation to the real and bona fide voter. I admit that with respect to the registration of voters in particular, great amendments may be made. But these are questions upon which I consider parliaments should always feel bound to be alive and attentive to see that the Act suffers no essential injury and that any errors in the details which might be made in the commencement might be afterwards remedied. But these are questions which are totally different from those now brought forward, such as the question of the ballot, the extension of the suffrage, and triennial parliaments, which are taken together nothing else but a repeal of the Reform Act and placing the representation on a different footing. Am I then prepared to do this? I say certainly not. With respect to the question of the registration, I am ready to bring forward some measures to amendment, or rather my honorable and learned friend, the Attorney General, will bring forward such a measure. The matter has been frequently under discussion in this house. I proposed some amendments myself last year, and if any further facilities can be given by me, I shall feel at my duty to afford them, and more particularly upon the subject which I introduced the bill of last year, namely the payment of rates. But I do say that having now only five years ago reformed the representation, having placed it on a new basis, it would be a most unwise and unsound experiment now to begin the process again, to form a new suffrage, to make an alteration in the manner of voting, and to look for other and new securities for the representation of the people. I say at least for myself that I can take no share in such an experiment, though I may be, and indeed I must be, liable to the somewhat harsh term of the honorable member for Kilkenny. I must explain, however, in what sense I consider myself bound with regard to the Reform Act. When I brought forward that measure it will be recollected that the cry was that it was too large, that it was too extensive, and those who were radical reformers were upon the whole much better pleased with it than those who were moderate reformers. But it was the opinion of Earl Gray, an opinion stated by him in the House of Lords, and an opinion stated repeatedly by Lord Althorpe in the House of Commons, that it was safer to make a large and extensive measure of reform than a small measure of reform, for this reason, that in bringing forward the extensive measure we might be assured that we were bringing forward one which might have a prospect of being a final measure. Do I then say that the measure is in all respects final? I say no such nonsense. Do I say that the people of England are deprived of the right of reconsidering the provisions of the Act? I say no such folly. I maintain that the people of England are fully entitled to do so, if to the people of England it shall so seem fit. But I am not, myself, going to do so. I think that the entering again into this question of the construction of the representation so soon would destroy the stability of our institutions. It is quite impossible for me, having been one who brought forward the measure of reform, who feel bound by the declarations then made, to take any part in these large measures of reconstruction or to consent to the repeal of the Reform Act without being guilty of what I think would be a breach of faith towards those with whom I was then acting. If the people of England are not of that mind they may reject me. They can prevent me from taking part either in the legislature or in the councils of the sovereign. They can place others there who may have wider and more extended, more enlarged and enlightened views, but they must not expect me to entertain these views. They may place others in my situation, but they must not call upon me to do that which I do not only consider unwise, but which I should not feel myself justified without a breach of faith and honor in proposing.