1reind toy be England, withheld they spring, and how come they to haunt our and deliberative, but a real organ of the public opinion, by which its course may be known, and its influence exerted upon state affairs regularly and temperately, instead of acting convulsively, and, as it were, by starts and shocks? I will only appeal to one advantage, which is as certain to result from this salutary improvement of our system as it is certain that I am addressing your Lordships. A noble Earl [Lord Winchelsea] inveighed strongly against the licentiousness of the press; complained of its insolence; and asserted that there was no tyranny more intolerable than that which its conductors now exercised. It is most true that the press has great influence, but equally true that it derives this influence from expressing, more or less correctly, the opinion of the country. Let it run counter to the prevailing course, and its power is at an end. But I will also admit that, going in the same general direction with public opinion, the press is oftentimes armed with too much power in particular instances; and such power is always liable to be abused. But I will tell the noble Earl upon what foundation this overgrown power is built. The press is now the only organ of public opinion. This title it assumes; but it is not by usurpation; it is rendered legitimate by the defects of your parliamentary Constitution; it is erected upon the ruins of real representation. The periodical press is the rival of the House of Commons; and it is, and it will be, the successful rival, as long as that House does not represent the people-but not one day longer. If ever I felt confident in any prediction, it is in this, that the restoration of Parliament to its legitimate office of representing truly the public opinion will overthrow the tyranny of which noble Lords are so ready to complain, who, by keeping out the lawful sovereign, in truth support the usurper. It is you who have placed this unlawful authority on a rock: pass the bill, it is built on a quicksand. Let but the country have a full and free representation, and to that will men look for the expression of public opinion, and the press will no more be able to dictate, as now, when none else can speak the sense of the people. Will its influence wholly cease? God forbid! Its just influence will continue, but confined within safe and proper bounds. It will continue, long may it continue, to watch the conduct of public men-to watch the proceedings even of a reformed Legislature-to watch the people themselves-a safe, an innoxious, a useful instrument, to enlighten and improve man-number-but I heard it urged in the self-same kind! But its overgrown power-its assumption to speak in the name of the nation-its pretension to dictate and to command, will cease with the abuse upon which alone it is founded, and will be swept away, together with the other creatures of the same abuse, which now "fright our isle from its propriety." Those portentous appearances, the growth of later times, those figures that stalk abroad, of unknown stature and strange form-unions of leagues, and musterings of men in myriads, and conspiracies against the exchequer; whence do | terms. The burden of the cry was-it is no time for concession; the people are turbulent, and the Association dangerous. That summer passed, and the ferment subsided not; autumn came, but brought not the precious fruit of peace -on the contrary, all Ireland was convulsed with the unprecedented conflict which returned the great chief of the Catholics to sit in a Protestant Parliament; winter bound the earth in chains, but it controlled not the popular fury, whose surge, more deafening than the tempest, lashed the frail bulwarks of law founded upon injustice. Spring came; but no ethereal mild- | the ministers, too, are for it; but the aristocness was its harbinger, or followed in its train; racy, say they, is strenuously opposed to it. I the Catholics became stronger by every month's broadly deny this silly, thoughtless assertion. delay, displayed a deadlier resolution, and pro- What, my Lords! the aristocracy set themselves claimed their wrongs in a tone of louder defiance in a mass against the people-they who sprang than before. And what course did you, at this from the people-are inseparably connected with moment of greatest excitement, and peril, and the people-are supported by the people-are menace, deem it most fitting to pursue? Eight the natural chiefs of the people! They set themmonths before, you had been told how unworthy selves against the people, for whom peers are it would be to yield when men clamored and ennobled-bishops consecrated-Kings anointed threatened. No change had happened in the in--the people to serve whom Parliament itself terval, save that the clamors were become far more deafening, and the threats, beyond comparison, more overbearing. What, nevertheless, did your Lordships do? Your duty; for you despised the cuckoo-note of the season, "be not intimidated." You granted all that the Irish demanded, and you saved your country. Was there in April a single argument advanced which had not held good in July? None, absolutely none, except the new height to which the dangers of longer delay had risen, and the increased vehemence with which justice was demanded; and yet the appeal to your pride, which had prevailed in July, was in vain made in April, and you wisely and patriotically granted what was asked, and ran the risk of being supposed to yield through fear. Delay will has an existence, and the monarchy and all its But the history of the Catholic claims conveys another important lesson. Though only aggravate in right, and policy, and justice, the the evil. measure of relief could not be too ample, half as much as was received with little gratitude when so late wrung from you, would have been hailed twenty years before with delight; and, even the July preceding, the measure would have been received as a boon freely given, which, I fear, was taken with but sullen satisfaction in April, as a right long withheld. Yet, blessed be God, the debt of justice, though tardily, was at length paid, and the noble Duke won by it civic honors which rival his warlike achieve-depending upon accident. I quitted the elevaments in lasting brightness-than which there can be no higher praise. What, if he had still listened to the topics of intimidation and inconsistency which had scared his predecessors ? He might have proved his obstinacy, and Ireland would have been the sacrifice. racy can not afford to minds of the Apply now this lesson of recent history-I The aristoc may say of our own experience to the measure before us. We stand in a truly alienate the critical position. If we reject the bill, people. through fear of being thought to be intimidated, we may lead the life of retirement and quiet, but the hearts of the millions of our fellow-citizens are gone forever; their affections are estranged; we and our order and its privileges are the objects of the people's hatred, as the only obstacles which stand between them and the gratification of their most passionate desire. The whole body of the aristocracy must expect to share this fate, and be exposed to feelings such as these. For I hear it constantly said that the bill is rejected by all the aristocracy. Favor, and a good number of supporters, our adversaries allow it has among the people; ted station of representative for Yorkshire, and a leading member of the Commons. I descended from a position quite lofty enough to gratify any man's ambition, and my lot became bound up in the stability of this House. Then, have I not a right to throw myself on your justice, and to desire that you will not put in jeopardy all I have now left? rabble alone But the populace only, the rabble, the ignoble vulgar, are for the bill! Then what It is not the is the Duke of Norfolk, Earl Marshal are in faof England? What the Duke of Dev-vor of the bill. onshire? What the Duke of Bedford? (Cries of order from the Opposition.) I am aware it is irregular in any noble Lord that is a friend to the measure; its adversaries are patiently suffered to call peers even by their Christian and surnames. Then I shall be as regular as they were, and ask, Does my friend John Russell, my friend William Cavendish, my friend Harry Vane, belong to the mob, or to the aristocracy? Have they no possessions? Are they modern names? Are they wanting in Norman blood, or whatever else you pride yourselves on? The idea is too ludicrous to be seriously refuted; that the bill is only a favorite with the democracy, is a delusion so wild as to point a man's destiny toward St. Luke's. Yet many, both here and elsewhere, by dint of constantly repeating the same cry, or hearing it repeated, have almost made themselves believe that none of the nobility are for the measure. A noble friend of mine has had the curiosity to examine the list of peers, opposing and supporting it, with respect to the dates of their creation, and the result is somewhat remarkable. A large majority of the peers, created before Mr. Pitt's time, are for the bill; the bulk of those against it are of recent creation; and if you divide the whole into two classes, those ennobled before the reign of George III. and those since, of the former, fifty-six are friends, and only twenty-one enemies of the reform. So much for the vain and saucy boast that the real nobility of the country are against reform. I have dwelt upon this matter more than its intrinsic importance deserves, only through my desire to set right the fact, and to vindicate the ancient aristocracy from a most groundless imputation. Peroration: delay. err is human, justice deferred enhances the price at which you must purchase safety and peace; nor can you expect to gather in another crop than they did who went before you, if you persevere in their utterly abominable husbandry, of sowing injustice and reaping rebellion. But among the awful considerations that now bow down my mind, there is one which stands pre-eminent above the rest. You are the highest judicature in the realm; you sit here as judg es, and decide all causes, civil and criminal, without appeal. It is a judge's first duty never to pronounce sentence in the most trifling case without hearing. Will you make this the exception? Are you really prepared to determine, but not to hear, the mighty cause upon which a nation's hopes and fears hang? You are. Then beware of your decision! Rouse not, I beseech you, a peace-loving, but a resolute people; alienate not from your body the affections of a whole empire. As your friend, as the friend of my order, as the friend of my country, as the faithful servant of my Sovereign, I counsel you to assist with your uttermost efforts in preserving the peace, and upholding and perpetuating the Constitution. Therefore, I pray and exhort you not to reject this measure. By all you hold most dear My Lords, I do not disguise the intense solicitude which I feel for the event of this Danger of debate, because I know full well that the peace of the country is involved in by all the ties that bind every one of us to our the issue. I can not look without dismay at the common order and our common country, I solrejection of the measure. But grievous as may emnly adjure you—I warn you—I implore you be the consequences of a temporary defeat--yea, on my bended knees, I supplicate you-retemporary it can only be; for its ultimate, and ject not this bill! even speedy success, is certain. Nothing can now stop it. Do not suffer yourselves to be persuaded that even if the present ministers were driven from the helm, any one could steer you through the troubles which surround you without reform. But our successors would take up the task in circumstances far less auspicious. Under them, you would be fain to grant a bill, compared with which the one we now proffer you is moderate indeed. Hear the parable of the Sibyl; for it conveys a wise and wholesome moral. She now appears at your gate, and offers you mildly the volumes the precious volumes-of wisdom and peace. The price she asks is reasonable; to restore the franchise, which, without any bargain, you ought voluntarily to give; you refuse her terms-her moderate terms-she darkens the porch no longer. But soon, for you can not do without her wares, you call her back; again she comes, but with diminished treasures; the leaves of the book are in part torn away by lawless hands-in part defaced with characters of blood. But the prophetic maid had risen in her demands -it is Parliaments by the year-it is vote by the ballot-it is suffrage by the million! From this you turn away indignant, and for the second time she departs. Beware of her third coming; for the treasure you must have; and what price she may next demand, who shall tell? It may even be the mace which rests upon that wool-sack. What may follow your course of obstinacy, if persisted in, I can not take upon me to predict, nor do I wish to conjecture. But this I know full well, that, as sure as man is mortal, and to So completely had Lord Brougham wrought up his own feelings and those of his hearers at the close of this speech, that it was nothing strained or unnatural-it was, in fact, almost a matter of course-for him to sink down upon one of his knees at the table where he stood, when he uttered the last words, "I supplicate you— reject not this bill!" But the sacrifice was too great a one for that proud nobility to make at once, and the bill was rejected by a majority of forty-one, of whom twenty-one belonged to the board of bishops of the Established Church. The question, "What will the Lords do?" which had agitated and divided the public mind for some months, was now answered, and a burst of wounded and indignant feeling followed throughout the whole country. The London papers were many of them arrayed in mourning; some of the Lords who had opposed the bill were assaulted by the populace in the streets; others were burned in effigy in the neighborhoods where they lived; riots took place in many of the large towns, at which the property of the anti-Reformers was destroyed; and in the vicinity of Nottingham the ancient palace of the Duke of Newcastle was consumed by fire. The great body of the nation, while they disapproved of these excesses, were wrought up to the highest pitch of determination that, come what might, the bill should be carried. Public meetings, embraeing a large part of the entire population, were held in all parts of the kingdom, and men of the highest standing and ability came forward to form them into one compact body, with the King | The Atlantic was roused, Mrs. Partington's spirit in their midst, to press with the united force of millions on the House of Lords. Before such an array the aristocracy of England, for the first time, with all its wealth, and talent, and hereditary claims on the respect of the people, were seen to be utterly powerless. They were even treated with contempt. "The efforts of the Lords to stop the progress of reform," said the Rev. Sydney Smith at the Taunton meeting, “reminds me very forcibly of the great storm at Sidmouth, and of the conduct of the excellent Mrs. Partington on that occasion. In the winter of 1824, there set in a great flood upon that town; the tide rose to an incredible height, the waves rushed in upon the houses, and every thing was threatened with destruction. In the midst of this sublime and terrible storm, Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was seen at the door of her house with mop and pattens, trundling her mop, squeezing out the sea-water, and vigorously pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. was up, but I need not tell you that the contest was unequal. The Atlantic Ocean beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop or a puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest. Gentlemen, be at your ease—be quiet and steady. You will beat Mrs. Partington.”8 On the 12th of December, 1831, the bill was introduced into the House of Commons for the third time, and was passed by a majority of one hundred and sixty-two; but was rejected in the House of Lords on the 7th of May, 1832, by a majority of thirty-nine. The ministry instantly resigned, and the King, after an ineffectual ef fort to form another, invited them back, on the condition that he would create enough new Lords to carry through the bill. This ended the contest. To escape such an indignity, a large number of the anti-Reformers signified their intention of being absent when the bill came up anew, and it finally passed the Upper House on the 4th of June, 1832, by a vote of 106 to 22. INAUGURAL DISCOURSE OF MR. BROUGHAM WHEN ELECTED LORD RECTOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW DELIVERED APRIL 6, 1825. INTRODUCTION. AT Glasgow a Lord Rector is annually chosen by a major vote of the members of the University. The station is simply one of honor, like that of Chancellor in the English Universities, involving no share in the government or instruction, and is usually awarded to some public man who has a distinguished name in literature or politics. When inducted into office, the Lord Rector returns thanks in an address which is usually short, as a mere matter of form and compliment, expressing his sense of the honor conferred, and his best wishes for the prosperity of the institution. Lord Brougham, however, when called to this office, took a different course. He prepared an elaborate address on "the study of the Rhetorical Art, and the purposes to which a proficiency in this art should be made subservient." He urges the study of rhetoric, however, not in mere treatises on the subject, but (as in the case of the sculptor and painter) in the direct study of the great productions of the art itself, and especially of the Greek orators; of whom he affirms, "the works of the English chisel fall not more short of the wonders of the Acropolis, than the best productions of modern pens fall short of the chaste, finished, nervous, and overwhelming compositions of them "that fulmined over Greece." The discourse is full of striking remarks, many of them of great value as the result of the author's own experience, and it therefore forms a very appropriate close to this volume. One fact respecting it is certainly remarkable, that, containing so many and such extended quotations, it was written not at home among his books, but "during the business of the Northern Circuit." DISCOURSE, &c. Motives for dil I feel very sensibly that if I shall now urge you by general exhortations to be Transition: instant in the pursuit of the learning igence in a colwhich, in all its branches, flourishes lege life. under the kindly shelter of these roofs, I may weary you with the unprofitable repetition of a thrice-told tale; and if I presume to offer my advice touching the conduct of your studies, I may seem to trespass upon the province of those venerable persons under whose care you have the singular happiness to be placed. But I would nevertheless expose myself to either charge, for the sake of joining my voice with 8 It scarcely need be said that this mention of the good lady gave rise to the frequent occurrence of her name in the newspapers of the present day. -the study of the rhetorical art, by which useful truths are promulgated with effect, and the purposes to which a proficiency in this art should be made subservient. Part First. The study of This should be pursued chiefly among the Rhetoric. Greek orators. It is an extremely common error among young persons, impatient of academical discipline, to turn from the painful study of ancient, and particularly of Attic composition, and solace themselves with works rendered easy by the familiarity of their own tongue. They plausibly contend, that as powerful or captivating diction in a pure English style is, after all, the attainment they are in search of, the study of the best English models affords the shortest road to this point; and even admitting the ancient examples to have been the great fountains from which all eloquence is drawn, they would rather profit, as it were, by the classical labors of their English predecessors, than toil over the same path them. selves. In a word, they would treat the perishable results of those labors as the standard, and give themselves no care about the immortal originals. This argument, the thin covering which indolence weaves for herself, would speedily sink all the fine arts into barrenness and insignificance. Why, according to such reasoners, should a sculptor or painter encounter the toil of a journey to Athens or to Rome? Far better work at home, and profit by the labor of those who have resorted to the Vatican and the Parthenon, and founded an English school adapted to the taste of our own country. Be you assured that the works of the En theirs in anxiously entreating you to believe how incomparably the present season is verily and indeed the most precious of your whole lives. It is not the less true, because it has been oftentimes said, that the period of youth is by far the best fitted for the improvement of the mind, and the retirement of a college almost exclusively adapted to much study. At your enviable age every thing has the lively interest of novelty and freshness; attention is perpetually sharpened by curiosity; and the memory is tenacious of the deep impressions it thus receives, to a degree unknown in after life; while the distracting cares of the world, or its beguiling pleasures, cross not the threshold of these calm retreats; its distant noise and bustle are faintly heard, making the shelter you enjoy more grateful; and the struggles of anxious mortals embarked upon that troublous sea are viewed from an eminence, the security of which is rendered more sweet by the prospect of the scene below. Yet a little while, and you too will be plunged into those waters of bitterness; and will cast an eye of regret, as now I do, upon the peaceful regions you have quitted forever. Such is your lot as members of society; but it will be your own fault if you look back on this place with repentance or with shame; and be well assured that, whatever time -ay, every hour- -you squander here on unprofitable idling, will then rise up against you, and be paid for by years of bitter but unavailing regrets. Study, then, I beseech you, so to store your minds with the exquisite learning of former ages, that you may always possess within yourselves sources of rational and refined enjoyment,glish chisel fall not more short of the all Eaghsh which will enable you to set at naught the wonders of the Acropolis, than the grosser pleasures of sense, whereof other men best productions of modern pens fall short of are slaves; and so imbue yourselves with the the chaste, finished, nervous, and overwhelming sound philosophy of later days, forming your-compositions of them that "resistless fulmined selves to the virtuous habits which are its legitimate offspring, that you may walk unhurt through the trials which await you, and may look down upon the ignorance and error that surround you, not with lofty and supercilious contempt, as the sages of old times, but with the vehement desire of enlightening those who wander in darkness, and who are by so much the more endeared to us by how much they want our assistance. oric and its tions. Assuming the improvement of his own mind and of the lot of his fellow-creatures Subject: The study of Rhet to be the great end of every man's proper applica existence, who is removed above the care of providing for his sustenance, and to be the indispensable duty of every man, as far as his own immediate wants leave him any portion of time unemployed, our attention is naturally directed to the means by which so great and urgent a work may best be performed; and as in the limited time allotted to this discourse, I can not hope to occupy more than a small portion of so wide a field, I shall confine myself to two subjects, or rather to a few observations upon two subjects, both of them appropriate to this place, but either of them affording ample materials for an entire course of lectures Inferiority of models. over Greece." Be equally sure that, with Test mony of tory |