II. FULL AND FREE REPRESENTATION Brougham declares that the bill is not an innovation but a return to former principles; that the purpose of government is to conform things to the progress of the times; that the success of the measure lies in the character and power of the middle class of Englishmen; and that it will prevent the buying of seats in Parliament. Public sentiment calls for reform in the franchise. This sentiment must be met with conciliation, not contempt, and great benefits will accrue from its adoption. 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. 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. Win 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 mankind! 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." Will men never learn wisdom, even from their own experience? Will they never believe till it be too late, that the surest way to prevent immoderate desires being formed, aye, and unjust demands enforced, is to grant in due season the moderate requests of justice? You stand, my lords, on the brink of a great event; you are in the crisis of a whole nation's hopes and fears. An awful importance hangs over your decision. Pause, ere you plunge! There may not be any retreat! It behooves you to shape your conduct by the mighty occasion. They tell you not to be afraid of personal consequences in discharging your duty. I too would ask you to banish all fears; but, above all, that most mischievous, most despicable fear, the fear of being thought afraid. We stand in a truly critical position. If we reject the bill, 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; the ministers, too, are for it; but the aristocracy, say they, is strenuously opposed to it. I broadly deny this silly, thoughtless assertion. What, my lords! the aristocracy set themselves in a mass against the people they who sprang from the people, are supported by the people, are the natural chiefs of the people! They set themselves against the people, for whom peers are ennobled, bishops consecrated, kings anointed the people to serve whom Parliament itself has an existence, and the monarchy and all its institutions are constituted, and without whom none of them could exist for an hour! The assertion of unreflecting men is too monstrous to be endured. As a member of this House I deny it with indignation. I repel it with scorn, as a calumny upon us all. And yet there are those who even within these walls speak of the bill augmenting so much the strength of the democracy as to endanger the other orders of the state; and so they charge its authors with promoting anarchy and rapine. Why, my lords, have its authors nothing to fear from democratic spoliation? The fact is, that there are members of the present cabinet who possess, one or two of them alone, far more property than any two administrations within my recollection; and all of them have ample wealth. I need hardly say I include not myself, who have little or none. But even of myself I will say, that whatever I have depends upon the stability of existing institutions, and it is as dear to me as the princely possessions of any among us. My lords, I do not disguise the intense solicitude which I feel for the event of this debate, because I know full well that the peace of the country is involved in the issue. I cannot look without dismay at the rejection of the measure. But grievous as may be the consequences of a temporary defeat, temporary it can only be, for its ultimate, and 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. What may follow your course of obstinacy, if persisted in, I cannot 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 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 your utterly abominable husbandry, of sowing injustice and reaping rebellion. But among the awful considerations that now bow down my mind, there is one that stands preeminent above the rest. You are the highest judicature in the realm; you sit here as judges, 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 an 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 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 a 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; by all the ties that bind every one of us to our common order and our common country, I solemnly adjure you, I warn you, I implore you yea, on my bended knees, I supplicate you — reject not this bill ! JOHN BRIGHT John Bright (1811-1889) came of sturdy Quaker ancestry. His education in the schools was neither thorough nor comprehensive. He knew little of the classics. His school life at a great faculty of observation formed men of England. Ackworth and Newton acad emies ended when he was fifteen years of age. But though he was actively engaged with his father in the cotton mills of Rochdale, he spent his evenings in diligent study for many years. History, biography, and English literature, especially poetry, were his favorite studies. He knew Shakespeare, Milton, and the Bible almost by heart. This accounts in great measure for the purity and the simplicity of his diction. Untiring industry in private study, quick intelligence, and made him one of the best in John Bright is an example of what can be accomplished in public speaking by the most persistent and determined practice of the art. His first public speech, at the age of nineteen, on the subject of temperance, was not a success. He was nervous and excited, and though intensely interested in |