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BLACKWOOD'S

EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.

No. CXLII.

AUGUST, 1828.

VOL. XXIV.

A SPEECH WHICH OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS DURING THis session oF PARLIAMENT.

TO JOHN BULL, ESQ.

London, July 8, 1828.

MY DEAR AND honoured PARENT,

A LETTER which I addressed to you through the medium of this Magazine on the eve of the last General Election, will justify me for soliciting your attention to the following Speech. The feeling which made me wish to influence you in the choice of your Representatives, now makes me anxious to prevail on you to examine how the Representatives you selected have discharged their duties.

Let not the Speech have the less weight with you, because it is not presented in a newspaper, graced with the name of some accomplished orator. In so far as concerns your interests, it is a far more important and valuable one than any speech that was delivered in either House during the session. Of its other characteristics, it does not become me to speak, and they are of minor consequence. In order that it may make the greater impression on you, imagine that it was actually uttered in Parliament by one of your favourite speakers, that it was greeted with thunders of applause, and that it now meets your eye in a newspaper, eulogized as a specimen of finished eloquence.

Your imagination, my dear sir, has in late years been accustomed to flights infinitely more difficult, daring, and extravagant; but, however, if, in your present sober and dejected condition, it be incapable of this, let it slumber, and have recourse to other and more trust-worthy faculties. Look at your agriculture-your shipping-your silk and glove trades—in a word, at all your interests. Look at the records of your criminal courts, and at the general state of your working population. Look, with a determination to use your eyes as you were wont to use them; and to reason from ocular proofs as you were wont to reason. Do this, and then read the Speech.

To prevail with you, I need not on this occasion employ reproach and remonstrance. You have not trod the flames in vain; the cup of afflicVOL. XXIV.

S

tion has not visited your lips, to be disregarded. I speak not now to a man infatuated and prejudiced, deaf to reason and blind to demonstration; but I address one, rational, free from delusion, anxious to discover truth, and open to conviction. Alas, alas! that the change has not been wrought in you by other things than loss and misery!

After you have read the Speech again and again, compel your Representatives, while they are separated, to accompany you singly through the confiscation, want, and suffering, which they have produced. Make them examine the books of the farmer, shipowner, and their other victims show them the family which they have dragged from affluence into bankruptcy-and let them see not only the agonies of the husband and father, but the privations and sorrows of the wife, the mother, and the children-take them to those whose hopes they have for ever blasted, and to the graves of those whose hearts they have broken-constrain them to enter the hovel of the labourer, whose wages they have taken away or reduced, so that he cannot provide his family with necessaries; and let them analyze fully his penury and wretchedness-and lead them through your prisons to observe the insolvency, vice, and crime, which have flowed from their measures. Spare them not-suffer them not to close their eyes-but force them into the most perfect knowledge of the ruined fortunes, the miserable insufficient meal, the rags, the hunger, the ignorance, the distress, and the wickedness, not only of the individual and family, but of the class-the tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, and millions. If all this will work in them no reformation-if it will extort from them no contrition, and no confession of error-then brand on the forehead of each,-A STRANGER TO ALL THAT THE ENGLISHMAN SHOULD KNOW; AND AN ENEMY TO ALL THAT THE·· ENGLISHMAN SHOULD LOVE.

In my last letter, I was compelled, by the conduct you were displaying, to use language scarcely warranted by filial duty; and I, therefore, did not mention my relationship. I now avow myself to be in birth, blood, residence, and affection, one of your offspring. I make the avowal, that my words may have the greater influence. I have been proud of my descent; I have valued my plain English name above the most splendid title of foreign nobility; and I have never trod the hallowed dust of my native land, without having had elasticity imparted to my spring, and haughtiness to my demeanour, by the reflection that I was an Englishman. In me, this has been something better than prejudice, for I have known it to be amply justified by what my country contained. But, alas! where is now the boasted superiority of my country over all others, in security of property, and the means of happiness? When I see the vast mass of my countrymen stripped of their property and comforts, doomed to endure greater privations than the inhabitants of almost any foreign nation, and placed in circumstances which must demoralize them, and plunge them into barbarism-when I see this, I must exchange my pride for humiliation; I must blush and weep for England, or be a disgrace to the name of Englishman.

By that blood with which you have filled my veins, in the name of all that you have taught me to love and worship, and for the sake of every thing dear to your character and weal, I conjure you to shake off your dejection, and do your duty. Speak as you were wont to speak-let the plain, comprehensive, powerful, and majestic common sense of JOHN BULL again be heard-and you will be obeyed by your House of Commons.

I remain, my dear sir, your affectionate and dutiful son, and faithful and unchangeable friend,

ONE OF THE OLD SCHOOL.

MR SPEAKER,

The grand characteristic, not only of wisdom, but likewise of sanity, in the individual is he continually refers to the fruits of his past conduct for his guidance in the present and the future. Does he regulate his family by particular rules-he examines what they yield, to ascertain whether he shall adhere to, or change them. Does he adopt a new system of management on his estate or his farm, in his counting-house or manufactoryhe rigidly scrutinizes its products, to determine whether he shall persist in it, or return to the old one. Does he make experiments in the conducting of his affairs-he carefully watches their results, to decide whether he shall continue or abandon them. Does he deport himself in any peculiar nanner in society-he acquaints him self with the impression it makes, in order to judge whether any change in it be called for by his interests and character. If he do differently-if he follow maxiins, persist in systems, continue experiments, and persevere in demeanour, without noticing or regulating his conduct by what they produce-it forms a conclusive proof that he is destitute of the reason which distinguishes man from the beast of the field; and that he will plunge -himself into irretrievable ruin. On such a proof, the world pronounces him a lunatic, and the law treats him

as one.

The case, with little exception, is the same with the body of men in its collective capacity. This body can no more act in utter disregard of what its past conduct has produced, without proving that it is destitute of the essentials of common reason, and that it will plunge itself and others into ruin, than the individual. The world may call its members severally sane, but in the aggregate it will treat them as madmen; the law may not restrain them as lunatics in its letter and acts, because it cannot, but it will do this in its principle.

To no body of men, sir, would this apply more powerfully, than to that of which this House consists. Our duties are of a kind, which nothing but a perpetual and severe examination of the fruits of our past conduct can enable us to discharge properly. And our errors are of a kind which must be destructive alike to our cha

racter, our interests, and the interests of the community. Our loss of cha racter alone, independently of what it is to ourselves, is a mighty public evil; and we may, by a single pernicious measure, take away the fortunes, bread, and peace of millions. If we act the part of lunatics, we are above the reach of the law; our lunacy is despotic; it may by a breath sink half the nation into beggary and wretchedness, and there is no appeal from its mandates. If this House, sir, be at this moment in the possession of common reason, it will require from me no farther proofs that it is its duty to do, what it is my object to induce it to do, viz. to institute a rigid inquiry into the consequences which its conduct in late years have yielded to itself and the community. Other proofs, however, I shall place before it; and such proofs too, as must either gain its conviction, or show it to be labouring under lunacy, perfect and incurable.

This House, sir, from nature, duty, and desert, as well as from interest and prejudice, ought always to hold a very high place in public estimation. In it, speaking constitutionally, the nation should find a child born of its own loins, uttering its own sentiments, and loving it with filial fondness-a champion to protect it from every enemy-a comforter to assuage every sorrow-and a friend and benefactor to remedy every ill, and remove every distress. If ever the nation withdraw from us its confidence, and array itself against us, it must be taken as conclusive evidence, that our conduct is fearfully erroneous and injurious.

What, sir, is the case at present? This House has lost public confidence. The country-I do not mean by the term the multitude disqualified by ignorance and delusion from judging correctly, but I mean the intelligent part of the community, the knowledge, sense, and wisdom of the country-has arrayed itself against us. While the independent and enlightened men of all parties unite to condemn our conduct, it is only supported by the thick-and-thin interested partizans of our leaders. Amidst that part of society, which can only forsake us when we deserve to be forsaken, nothing is more common than to hear this House called "a public nuisance;" it constantly looks forward to our as

sembling with sorrow and dismay, and to our separating with pleasure; it anticipates from our labours little beyond loss and suffering, and it hopes for an interval of ease when we cease them.

To those who, with ignorance and assurance which can never be sufficiently wondered at, assert that our conduct is popular, and the country is with us, I will put this question What do you call the country? Does it consist of a few of the London newspapers and periodicals, and the place-hunting, profligate, untaught, half-witted part of the population of London, or of the community at large? If the reply be-the community at large, I will ask, What has it told us? The Agricultural Interest-the different Colonial Interests-the Shipping, Mining, and Monied Intereststhe Silk Manufacture, and various other Manufactures-the Aristocracy -and the Church, have furnished us with the most conclusive evidence that they are opposed to us. And it is notorious, that amidst the rest of the community we have more opponents than friends. If these, sir, do not constitute the country, we must, of necessity, find it in a minority, as insignificant in number as in all other things. We cannot call this minority the country, without affording evidence either of lunacy, or of something much less pardonable. The overwhelming majority, whether we look at rank, wealth, intelligence, wisdom, independence, patriotism, or mere numbers, is against us-the voice of general society is against us. With the proofs of this we have been overwhelmed, and it follows, as a matter of course, that the country is against

us.

This, sir, has not resulted from speculative fears and groundless assump tions. The cry of corruption has ceased. It is no longer alleged that we are bought by the Ministry, or bound by the dictates of the borough proprietors. The opposition to us rests wholly on our principles and measures-on what we say, and what we do-without reference to any other matter.

What have been the principles and measures which have operated so calamitously?

Some years since, an incomprehensible and portentous delusion seized the Ministry, and through the latter

it was enabled to seize this House, and for a time the country. We were taught by those who ought to have given us better instruction, that it was our duty to act solely on abstract principles, directly the reverse of the principles on which we had previously acted. Were these abstract principles matter of experimental truth, or were they based on such a collection of facts as gave them the colour of it? No. They were merely the OPINIONS of individuals. Granting that they had been promulgated by able men and philosophers by Adam Smith, Mr Ricardo, and others-they still were only the opinions of their parents. They were not even represented to be more. Experimental truth was flatly opposed to them. The fact was before us, as well as the rest of the world, that every country had been poor and barbarous, or had advanced in wealth, power, and happiness, in proportion as it had adhered to or departed from them. This was not the assertion of this writer or that-the mere opinion of individuals-it was a truth rendered alike notorious and unquestionable by history. It stared us in the face, let us look where we would; and no one could be ignorant of it. When I reflect on this, I am lost in astonishment that any person, not wholly insane, could be found to be lieve in the new opinions.

We were taught by the Ministry and the press, that these opinions were perfectly unerring; and that dissent from them would prove us to be destitute of knowledge, wisdom, and understanding, and brimful of prejudice and bigotry.

It is our grand, paramount duty, to deliberate before we act, even in respect of mere belief; but, sir, we forgot that we were legislators, and of course we forgot the duty of deliberation. When certain of the Ministers, by their shameless threats and scurrilities, endeavoured to stifle discussion in this House and out of it, we tamely submitted to them, instead of driving them from office for the audacious outrage on British rights. We made ourselves the instruments of them and the press, in virtually establishing an Inquisition of the most tyrannical and detestable description in favour of these new opinions. We were like school-boys, eager to pro-nounce the lessons of our pedagogues

unerring, in order to escape the rod and the fool's-cap. A moment's deliberation might have told us, that to dissent from an unproved proposition was no proof of ignorance; and that to differ from the mere opinion of another, was no evidence of bigotry. But we did not deliberate. Our conversion, after the Inquisition was es tablished, was a matter of compulsion; it was the work of the moral rack and faggot; it needed but little aid from our understanding and conviction, when it was supported by the terrors of martyrdom.

This conversion extended, of course, far beyond mere belief: it imposed on us the duty of making wholesale changes in laws and systems. To work we went, with all the sightless enthu siasm of zealots: The materials on which we had practically to labour, were agriculture, commerce, and manufac tures the fortunes and bread of the community; inquiry and evidence were out of the question, our abstract principles forbade the use of them; we commenced when the country was in unexampled prosperity, and when our toils had endured for only a few short months, it fell into unexampled suffering. Then, sir, the country shook off its delusion; bankruptcy and hunger convinced it of the fallacy of our abstract principles by their fearful demonstrations; it called us its deluders, and withdrew from us its confidence.

I say not, sir, that we ought to have embraced martyrdom, rather than have changed our faith; I will allow for human infirmity and error, and admit that much may be pleaded for our deplo rable change and consequent labours, in the way of palliation. But I say that we ought to have duly examined the tremendous evidence which resto red the country to its senses. Had we done this, we should have retraced our steps, and regained what we had lost in public opinion. We, however, shut our eyes to refutation; we closed our ears to the public voice, and we persevered, regardless of every thing save the impulses of our new bigotry. In this we were not a House of Commons according to the constitution. It had its natural consequences; momentary public distrust was changed into last ing public dislike, and even hostility. In perfect consistency with this has been our conduct up to the present

hour. Our abstract truths made us all in a single moment finished legislators. They rendered fact and deduction-the application of knowledge

and the exercise of talent, wholly unnecessary. They declared that par ticular opinions were erroneous, and that particular laws and systems ought to be abolished, or changed in a particular manner, without any reference to circumstances. Of course, they reduced the science of legislation to the mechanical rules of the work-shop; they placed us all on an equality in every qualification, save perhaps manual skill; they made the stripling the equal of the most experienced Minister; and in truth, through them, the inhabitants of the other hemisphere could have legislated for the British empire just as wisely as the wisest man in this House. Our boys found that, instead of having any thing to learn, they were admirably fitted to teach; and our aged and other members, who had never dreamed that they under stood the principle of a law, or were qualified to utter an opinion, discovered that they were raised to the elevation of leaders. Fame and distinction were placed within the reach of all, and all naturally scrambled to partake of them. Our leaders felt that they could not retract without covering themselves with shame, and the rest of us felt that we could not retract without abandoning our eminence, and sinking again into obscurity and insignificance; therefore we have perse vered with constancy unparalleled. In endeavouring to save and benefit ourselves individually, we have ruined ourselves as a House of Commons.

Our protesting, sir, that we were right, was of no avail, when the country knew us to be wrong. While our abstract principles were mere matter of opinion and promise, we obtained credence; but when they were tested by experiment, they were judged of by other things than our protestations. It was useless for us to vow to the silk manufacturer that our measures had benefited him, when bankruptcy and want proved to him the contrary. It was idle for us to declare to the shipowner that we had conferred on him advantages, when he possessed arithmetical proof that our measures had visited him with confiscation. It was fruitless in us to assure the farmer, or husbandry labourer, that we had pro

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