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ON PARLIAMENTARY REFORM AND THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.

No. VII.

What should the Peers do?

WE have frequently had occasion to impress upon our readers the eternal, and, in days such as the present, vital importance of the observation, that all popular movements are necessarily progressive: that those who commence the agitation can maintain their ascendency only by advancing with the stream, and that the moment they attempt to coerce it, they are buried in the waves. This truth, which the dear bought experience of a revolution has rendered perfectly familiar to the French, is only begin ning to be understood in this country. It was for this reason, that in the beginning of this year we commenced a series of papers " On Parliamentary Reform and the French Revolution;" foreseeing, before "the bill" was either broached or prepared, that these two subjects were inseparably connected; that the cry for Reform was nothing but the form which the revolutionary spirit had here assumed; that those who pretended to guide would speedily be mastered by it; and that the only lessons as to the mode of avoiding its fury, were to be drawn from the experience of its effects in the neighbouring kingdom.

The principles which we have endeavoured to illustrate have been

these:

1. That public discontent springs from two different causes; and, according as it arises from the one or the other, requires to be met by a totally different mode of treatment. That these causes are experienced suffering, and desired power. That the first can never be effectually remedied but by the removal of the grievances which occasion the irritation; while the second can never be successfully eradicated but by the removal of the phantom which has inflamed the passion.

2. That it is impossible, therefore, to be too rapid in removing the real grievances which have excited the discontent, while it is impossible to be too slow in conceding the power

VOL. XXX. NO. CLXXXII,

which is the object of ambition. That the removal of disabilities, the repeal of obnoxious duties, the diminution of burdens, being measures of relief producing immediate benefit, may be relied on as producing beneficial consequences; while the sudden concession of power may as certainly be expected to produce the most disastrous effects.

3. That in France, at the commencement of the first revolution, both causes were in operation; but that such were the ruinous results of the sudden concession of power to the people, that it overwhelmed all the beneficial consequences of the redress of grievances, and rendered Louis XVI-a reforming monarch, whose life was one uninterrupted series of concessions to the peoplethe immediate cause of the revolution, and the most fatal sovereign to the happiness of his country who ever sat on the French throne.

4. That in Great Britain real grievances do not exist; or, if they do, they admit, through the medium of Parliament, or of the freedom of the press, of open discussion and ultimate remedy. That the ferment, therefore, which has arisen since the last French revolution is owing entirely to the passion for power. That this passion, like every other passion, is insatiable, and increases with every successive addition made to its gratification; and unless vigorously resisted in the outset, will acquire fresh strength with every victory it gains, until at length, as under the Reign of Terror, it becomes irresistible.

5. That the appetite for power once fairly excited among a people, can never, in the present state of society, be satisfied, if once it is permitted to acquire its full strength by gratification, till universal suffrage is obtained. That in Lafayette's words,

every government is to be deemed an oligarchy where four millions of men give law to six millions," and therefore, that it is impossible to stop short of universal suffrage, either in

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point of principle or expedience, when once the precedent of yielding to the popular outcry for power is established.

6. That universal suffrage is in other words the destruction of property, order, and civilisation; impracticable in an old and highly peopled state, and necessarily destructive of capital, industry, life, and property.

7. That history convinces us, that the danger of adhering to the constitution, and resisting innovation, is incomparably less in every free state than that of concession during a period of excitement. That the exercise of social rights necessarily begets the desire of perpetuating them; and that this was in an especial manner the case in England, distinguished as it has been in every age by attachments to old institutions. That the resistance of the cry for Reform, often and vehemently raised, had never led to any convulsion; while the great rebellion, and the revolution of 1688, were owing to illegal invasion of the constitution, or the imprudent and sudden concession of power.

8. That the history of France and England in 1793 affords the most decisive proof of the truth of these observations; the former country having, under the reforming sovereign Louis XVI., and the reforming administration of Neckar, tried the system of concession, and in consequence brought on the revolution; the latter, under the non-reforming sovereign George, and the non-reforming administration of Pitt, resisted the demands of popular ambition, and in consequence saved the constitution.

9. That the recent convulsion in France-originating in violent and illegal usurpations by the reigning sovereign, and terminating in such disastrous consequences to the finances, the industry, and the happiness of the country-should prove a lasting warning both of the ruinous consequences of deviating from the constitution, and giving any ascendant to popular violence.

Have we, or have we not, been true prophets? Has not every step which has been taken demonstrated the justice of these principles? Shall we go on in a course from which such consequences have already been experienced?

Has not the cry for Reform increased an hundred-fold since the executive took the lead in the proposal for conceding power to the people? Do not the Radicals triumphantly boast that the Tories might, three months ago, have frameda plan of moderate Reform which would have satisfied the country; but that the time for half measures is now gone by, and that they will have "the Bill, the whole Bill, and nothing but the Bill ?"-What does this prove, but that the prospect of conceded power has inflamed the passions, and that a total change in the constitution must be made to gratify their vehemently excited expectations?

It was long ago said by Lord Burleigh, that the English constitution never could be ruined but by her Parliament; and the event has now proved the wisdom of the observation. So long as the government remained true to itself, it shook off all the assaults of its enemies "like dew drops from the lion's mane." But that which neither the decay of a thousand years, nor the force of embattled Europe, nor the genius of Napoleon, could affect, is on the point of being accomplished by the suicidal hands of its own children.

The prophecy of Montesquieu is likely to be inverted. England is not in danger of perishing because the legislature has become more corrupt than the executive, but because the executive has become more reckless than the legislature. The poison which is now running through the veins of the empire, has been inhaled from the most elevated sources; it has flowed down through the arteries of the state from its highest members. The "corruption" which has proved fatal to the ancient and venerable fabric, has not been the flattery of courts, the seductions of wealth, or the selfishness of prosperity; it has been the tumult of popular applause, and the vanity of plebeian adulation. Borne forward on the gales of democratic ambition, the administration have inverted the usual order of national decline.Symptoms of ruin have appeared, while yet the political body was in the vigour of youth; and long before its extremities had begun to feel the decay of Time, the whole system has been thrown into convulsions

from the vehement passions of the heart. Like the American Indians, they have lighted a forest to dress a scanty meal-but the fire has proved too strong for those who kindled it; and, like them, they are now driven before the flames, and dare not stop, lest they should be enveloped in the conflagration.

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What can be expected from a continuance of the system of concession? Where are we to stop? Observe the astonishing progress which democratic ambition has made in the last six months. What a change of ideas, of language, of expectations! Already, what a host of republican writers have sprung up, and how rapidly have the concessions which necessity has wrung out of the conservative party augmented! The Times declares, that if the House of Lords will not pass the Bill, means must be taken to make it part of the law of the land, without giving their Lordships much trouble." A new paper, "the Republican," price one halfpenny, has already a circulation of 20,000 copies; in every page of which, the cause of republican institutions is strenuously advocated. The leading Ministerial journals declare that the Cambridge election has opened the eyes of all men to the necessity of ecclesiastical reform; in other words, the confiscation of the whole property of the church. A new journal, "the Englishman," devoted apparently to writing down the national debt, vehemently urges the adoption of that "equitable adjustment" with the public creditor, which has been seriously recommended by a leading Member of Parliament, in his pamphlet on the currency. The adherents of administration make no secret of their determination, early next session, to carry the repeal of the corn laws through a reformed Parliament. Not a whisper of all this was heard of six months ago. It has all sprung up like the pestilence, that walks in darkness, since democratic ambition was excited by Reform; in other words, since the prospect of power was conceded to the people.

Where, in the name of God, is all this to terminate? By yielding to the demands of the people, we have brought them on, even faster than the fatal career of the Constituent Assembly. The doctrines broached

are now more fearful, the progress of democratic ambition more rapid, than in France in 1789. We have got, by the effect of six months' concession, farther on in the career of revolution and spoliation, than the French in many years. It was not till 1798, nine years after the revolution commenced, that the funds in that country were attacked, and an "equitable adjustment" carried, by the confiscation of two-thirds of the public debt of the country. How long will a reformed Parliament, the delegates of the L.10 tenants, continue to pay L.29,000,000 a-year to the holders of the 3 per cents? The confiscation of ecclesiastical property was only adopted there under the pressure of immediate and overbearing necessity; the annual excess of the public expenditure over the national income, which was L.9,000,000 yearly in 1789, was increased by the deficit of the revenue, consequent on the public convulsions in 1790, to L.16,000,000, and no resource remained but to lay their hands on the property of the most defenceless parts of the community. Here the same measure is advocated without any necessity, when the late administration left a clear excess of income above expenditure of L.2,900,000; and even under the severe infliction of the Whig Budget, Lord Althorpe promises the nation a surplus revenue of L.300,000. Titles of dignity were not assailed in France till 1791, two years after the revolution was established: the House of Peers is already threatened with destruction the moment they exercise their constitutional rights of rejecting or modifying the Reform Bill, the first step in the English changes. Utter ignorance of history, or wilful blindness to undisputed facts, can alone conceal the painful truth, that since the prospect of power excited democratic ambition in this country, the march of revolution has been much more rapid than that which preceded the Reign of Terror.

What arrested this fatal progress in Great Britain in 1793? Was it the system of concession-the doctrine that mobs are irresistible-that the good-will of the people must be conciliated by yielding to their demands -that public opinion, in other words, the clamour of the newspapers, must finally prove triumphant? Was it

the sudden concession of unlook ed-for-unhoped-for-power to the meanest of the householders of great towns? Was it the complete destruction of the whole constitutional influence of the conservative party in the Lower House? If these measures had been adopted, where should we have been now? They were adopted on the other side of the channel, and the rule of Marat and Robespierre was the consequence.

It was not thus that the British aristocracy of 1793 fronted the danger. The march of intellect had not as yet taught them that peril is to be evaded by weakness, and that pusillanimity in presence of an enemy is the best way to avoid a defeat. They had not then learned that concession to an insatiable opponent is the only mode of buying him off; and that the nation which gives a gratuity to its invaders, to persuade them to retreat, is most likely to be secured from future insult. They did not adopt the pusillanimous conduct of the Roman emperors, who raised vast sums to persuade the barbarians to retreat, fondly trusting that when their backs were once turned, they would never see their faces again. They proceeded on the antiquated principle-sanctioned indeed by the Roman republic, adopted by all the greatest of mankind, the parent of the long line of British greatness, but wholly unworthy of modern illumination—that in moments of peril, the most resolute course is the most prudent; and that the danger of resistance is incomparably less than that of exciting the passions of the enemy by symptoms of intimidation. Acting on this principle, that the passion for democratic power grows with every gratification it receives, the British aristocracy resolutely faced the danger: the great bulk of the Whig nobles, acting under the direction of Mr Burke, joined the administration; the threatened disturbances came to nothing; popular ambition, like every other passion, being deprived of its only food, hope, gradually declined; and in a few years the island exhibited a more united people than it had ever done since the Norman conquest.

The Duke of Wellington on the next crisis was fully aware of the danger. That sagacious and intrepid man saw at once the perilous state

in which the Constitution was placed by the successful result of the second French revolution, and he took the only course, which, in such circumstances, became a wise statesman or an experienced soldier. It was not by conciliation and concession that he resisted the invasion of Portugal in 1810. The Whigs then strenuously recommended the same submission to the French which they have since made to the Radicals; but the British Hero, disregarding all their prophecies of defeat, resolutely took post at Torres Vedras, and from beneath its iron ridge beheld the tide of invasion roll back. He was prepared to have done the same when Parliament met in November last. He would have bravely headed the friends of order in resisting the assault of anarchy. He would have gloriously brought them through the struggle; but at the first appearance of danger one half of his troops deserted to the enemy! The friends of Mr Huskisson united with the Ultra-Tories in joining the ranks of innovation; domestic dissension, the fatal heart-burnings consequent on Catholic emancipation, paralyzed all the efforts of the conservative party. Mr Sadler, Sir R. Vyvyan, Sir E. Knatchbull, Mr C. Grant, Lord Palmerston, voted on the same side with Sir Francis Burdett and Mr Brougham. Had the Duke of Wellington been deserted in the same manner in presence of Napoleon, where would have been the deathless glories of the field of Waterloo? Had such a defalcation taken place from Mr Pitt in 1793, where would now have been the British constitution? Had Mr Burke and the Whigs united with Mr Fox, turned out that intrepid statesman, and conceded sovereignty to the people, what would have been the subsequent fate of England? Revolutionary anarchy, a sceptre of blood, military subjugation, and a British Napoleon.

It is painful to think how different might have been the present state and future destinies of this country, had the friends of order rallied, as in 1793, round the illustrious hero, who had the magnanimity in a moment of peril to unfurl the flag of the Constitution, and nail her colours to the mast. The British Lion would not then, as now, have quailed before the tricolor ensign; the crown of Al

fred would not have been endangered on the head of the sovereign; the glories of a thousand years would not have been sinking into a sea of blood.

There never was so mistaken an idea as that which is now frequently adopted by those who perceive the present dangers of the country, that they have arisen from the Duke of Wellington's declaration against Reform. They have all arisen from his not being supported in that declaration. Had Mr Pitt been deserted as the Duke was, the present crisis would have occurred in 1793. Had the government then been delivered over to a reforming administration,the earthquake which has now shaken the empire would have occurred thirty-eight years sooner, and half the present generation would have been buried in its ruins.

But it is useless to lament the past. We refer to it not for the purpose of exciting unavailing regret, but to demonstrate the course of the perilous progress which the nation has since made, and to warn our legislature of the only course which still promises a chance of safety.

It is to the PEERS of Britain that we, in an especial manner, now address ourselves. With them it lies to temper passing excitement by permanent wisdom; to save an infatuated nation from itself; and perform an act, for which they will obtain temporary obloquy and eternal admiration.

By rallying round the Duke of Wellington in November last, before the excitement began, the conservative party might have crushed the hydra in its cradle; and postponed for cooler times the gradual reformation of the constitution. That opportunity is past; the excitement has been created by the prodigal gift of power to the populace, and it is no longer a transient passion of the multitude, but a settled resolution of a large part of the Commons. The last election, unparalleled in the annals of England, has demonstrated from whence the future peril to the constitution is to be apprehended. By rousing the multitude with the double prospect of their own elevation and the destruction of their superiors; by exciting imaginary hopes and chimerical expectations among

that numerous and ignorant class in whom the freehold qualification is placed; by dissolving Parliament at a moment of the highest excitement, and kindling the fire of misguided loyalty in the breasts of the rural tenantry, the Ministry have succeeded in obtaining a great majority in favour of Reform in the Lower House. Some concession must be made to the declared wish of the majority in point of numbers of the nation, and some change in the constitution must be admitted by its hereditary guardians.

In making this admission, we not only do not abandon, but adhere more strenuously than ever to our declared opinion, that no Reform should have been conceded till the excitement of the last French Revolution had passed away. We shall abandon this opinion when we are shewn that Mr Fox was wrong when he declared, "that all the collective wisdom of mankind could not frame a constitution; and that that of England was put together by the hand of time in a way which no future architect could hope to rival." We shall abandon it when we see new constitutions as stable, as free, and as beneficent, as those which have grown up with the wants of twenty generations; when we see the people as prosperous, the public wealth as flourishing, the national independence as secure, as under the pristine order of things; when the ancient glories of English story shall have been rivalled by the achievements of a more popular dynasty; the names of Bacon and Newton eclipsed by the discoveries of future philosophy; the strains of Milton and Shakspeare abandoned for the witchery of future rhyme; the remembrance of Cressy and Waterloo dimmed by the lustre of future triumphs; the flag of La Hogue and Trafalgar forgotten in the splendours of the British tricolor.

But the philosopher may lament the deplorable effects of popular delusion; the historian may condemn the fatal ambition of unexperienced statesmen; the legislator must deal with mankind as they are: he is exposed to the fury of popular violence, and must stem the torrent of reckless ambition. How to do this is now the question. A general who finds

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