THE DEMOCRATIC CONFEDERACY.
Although the precise period for the dissolution of Parliament is not yet known, we hear, on every side, the hum of political preparation. Members who had confidently reckoned on a longer lease of their seats, are trying to reconcile past votes with the present temper of their constituents, and, where they cannot openly vindicate their conduct, suggesting pleas in palliation. The over-timorous, and those who feel that they have no longer a chance of office, are issuing valedictory addresses, expressive of their preference of private life to the turmoil of a public career. Some are recanting former professions—others becoming bolder and more determined in their views. It is natural that such should be the case. The contest is not now solely between Whig and Tory, or even between Free-Trader and Protectionist. It has, owing to the occurrences of the last few months, assumed a more portentous aspect. Since his resignation, if we may not assume an earlier date, Lord John Russell has entered into the most close and intimate relations with the Manchester party, whose confession of political faith, as they themselves hardly scruple to avow, falls very little short of Republicanism. No sooner was he in opposition than he hastened to take counsel with Mr Cobden. The triumvirate was completed by the adhesion of Sir James Graham, a man who, having exhausted every possible form of moderate opinion, having played more parts in his day than the imagination of Autolycus could conceive, has assumed in his advanced years the character of an uncompromising democrat. Under Lord John Russell, Whiggery had lost its power. He could no longer command the suffrages, because he did not avow the opinions of the fiercer Liberal party, and because, so long as he remained allied with and recognised by the Whig aristocracy, he could not conciliate the chiefs and leaders of the democracy. He did not even understand the traditions of his own party—at all events, he has forgotten them for wellnigh twenty years. However much the Whigs, in former times, may, for their own purposes, have appeared to tamper with the Constitution, they were at least understood to be in nowise the advocates of what is now called perpetual progress. They were not constantly innovating, for innovation’s sake—or altering for the sake of securing a little temporary popularity. But Lord John Russell can no more abstain from experiment than a chemical lecturer. Partly from natural propensity, and partly from political exigencies, which he considered himself compelled to meet adroitly, in order to defeat his chief political antagonist, he walked on, step by step, until he reached the boundary of Radicalism. Once there, the temptation to venture over was great. His own immediate followers were few and feeble; behind him was the Conservative phalanx,—firm, united, and powerful; before him was theGarde Mobileof the Destructives, eagerly beckoning him over. He went; and it is little wonder if those of his staff who disapproved of so desperate a course, should now be either retiring from the field, or wandering about in disguise. What line, indeed, can a Ministerial Whig, who purposes to take his seat in the next Parliament, adopt with regard to his constituents? If he should say that he has faith and confidence in Lord John Russell, he must equally declare that he has faith and confidence in Mr Cobden, for these two are now inseparable in virtue of their late alliance. And if he is prepared to support a Cobden Ministry, he must needs avow himself a democrat. If, on the other hand, he should denounce Lord John Russell, and deny his leadership, whom is he prepared to follow? Is he to oppose Lord Derby as a Conservative, when the only possible party that can succeed to office in the event of the defeat of Lord Derby is that of the Destructives? Who leads him? Under what particular banner does he now profess to serve? These are questions and considerations which, during the last two months, have engrossed the attention of many a hesitating Whig, and which are now agitating, with great force, the whole of the electoral community. For it is quite clear that the old Whig party has ceased to have a separate existence. We do not say that, in time coming, it may not be reconstructed. There are materials enough to do that, providing a fitting architect can be found; but in the absence of any such artist, it must necessarily remain in abeyance. Men of moderate opinions—such as Sir William Gibson Craig, whose high character, affable demeanour, and unwearied attention to the interests of his constituents rendered his re-election perfectly secure—decline to present themselves as candidates at the approaching general election. Making every allowance for special and private reasons, on which no one has a right to comment, it does appear to us that such instances of withdrawal argue great uncertainty as to the political future, and cannot in any way be construed into tokens of approval of that line of conduct which Lord John Russell has thought fit to adopt. We could very well understand such withdrawals from public life, were the late Premier still in power. We can hardly believe that they would have taken place, had he remained, in adversity, the exponent and representative of the views which have hitherto been held by gentlemen of the old Whig party. Our own conviction is, that his conduct, since he was compelled to surrender power, has alienated the confidence of the best and wisest of his former adherents, who regarded his proposed Reform Bill with marked apprehension, and were sincerely rejoiced to be freed from the responsibility which must have attached to all, who, from party ties, might have thought themselves obliged to vote for so very dangerous a measure. It is now well known that the leading Whigs of England regard the defeat of Lord John Russell rather as a deliverance than a calamity. Henceforward they have done with him. If he is again to take office, he cannot count upon his old supporters. The Whig peers—the Lansdownes, the Fitzwilliams, the Zetlands—are too sensible, honourable, and loyal to support a Cabinet in which Mr Cobden must have the principal say; and throughout the country we know that public opinion among the educated classes is utterly opposed to, and abhorrent of any such consummation. The few Whigs who are struggling to attain or regain their contested seats, dare not venture upon a distinct enunciation of their own opinions. They usually have recourse to such general terms as—“wise and temperate reform;”—“that degree of progress which the advanced position and increased intelligence of the age render imperative;”—or, “the timely concession to popular demand of those privileges which, if withheld, may hereafter be more clamorously enforced.” It is no use commenting upon such language. The unhappy individuals who employ it are quite guiltless of any meaning; and they could not explain themselves if required. Generally speaking, they cut a most miserable figure when under examination by some burly Radical. On no one point are they explicit, save in their rejection of the ballot, which they think themselves entitled to except to, as Lord John Russell has hitherto declined to pronounce in favour of secret voting; and they dare not, for the lives of them, attempt to mark out the limit of the suffrage, or state the proper period for the duration of Parliaments. This is but a cowardly and contemptible line of conduct. If they have any spark of manhood in them, why can they not speak out? Surely by this time they should know the points of the Charter by heart, and be able to tell the constituencies to which of them they are ready to agree. On the contrary, we find nothing but dodging, shuffling, equivocating, and reserving. The fact is, that they have no mind of their own at all, and they are in sore perplexity as to the state of two other minds which they are trying to reconcile—the first being the mind of Lord John Russell, and the second being the mind of the constituency which they are addressing. For, apart from reform altogether, there are several topics about which your pure Whig candidate must be exceedingly cautious. For example, there is the withdrawal of the grant to Maynooth. Even supposing that Lord John Russell were as alert a Protestant as he professed himself to be in the autumn of 1850, how could he venture to sacrifice the support of the Irish tail? Therein lies the difficulty. You will find plenty of men—very determined Protestants, but also very determined adherents of the late Ministry—who will tell you “that they were always opposed to any grant of the kind;”—that is, that they thought it essentially wrong, not only in a political, but in a religious point of view; but, press one of these gentlemen upon the point, especially if, as in the case of Edinburgh, the selection of a candidate seems to depend greatly on his views with regard to that measure, and you will almost invariably find that his attachment to Protestantism is less strong than his regard for the interests of his party. This may not be right, and we do not think it is so; but we infinitely prefer the conduct and avowal of such men to the disgraceful exhibitions which have lately been made by more than one Whig candidate. Opinions, based on religious principle, never ought to be conceded. Changed they may be; but what idea of the sincerity of such a change can be formed, when we find it taking place immediately on the eve of an election, and, in one instance, after the issue of an address? After all, we are perhaps too severe. Every one knows what was the miserable denouement of Lord John Russell’s determined stand for Protestantism against Papal aggression; and it might be too much to expect that the devoted and even servile follower should exhibit, in his own person, more consistency than was displayed by his redoubted chief.
It is, however, quite apparent that, notwithstanding Lord John Russell’s advances to the Radical party, the latter are by no means inclined to place confidence in the Whigs. In every case in which such a movement seems likely to be attended with any prospect of success, they are putting forward candidates of their own—men whose adhesion to democratic principles is beyond the possibility of a challenge. Persons whose names were never before heard of—utterly briefless barristers, reporters and writers for the Radical press, broken-down speculators, who consider a career within the walls of St Stephen’s as the best method of effacing the memory of the enormities of Capel Court, attorneys in dubious practice, and the like class of characters—are presenting themselves to constituencies rather on the strength of recommendations from the Radical Reform Junta, than from any particular merits of their own. By these men the Whigs are especially persecuted, and may, perhaps, in various instances, be beaten. Yet, strange to say, the Whigs, as a party, have not the courage to adopt any distinct principle, or announce any determined line of action, which would serve at once to distinguish and separate them from the fellowship of these political adventurers. They are ashamed of their old party names, and persist in calling themselves Liberals. Now, as we all know, Liberality is, in politics, an exceedingly comprehensive term. Cuffey was a Liberal, so is Mr Feargus O’Connor; so are Mr Joseph Hume, Mr John M’Gregor, Mr Cobden, Mr W.J. Fox, Lord Melgund, and Mr James Moncrieff. And yet it would be difficult to say upon what particular point, negations excluded, one and all of these gentlemen are agreed. The fact is—and the Whigs know it—that there is no such a thing as a united Liberal party, and that the soldering up of their differences is impossible. When a Whig appeals to a constituency as a Liberal, he is taking the worst and weakest, because the most untenable, ground. He is acting the part of the Girondists, who persisted in claiming kindred with the Montagnards, until the Mountain fell upon and crushed them. It is this feature which distinguishes the present from every previous contest. The chiefs of the Liberal sections profess to act in concert and amity—they hold meetings, pass resolutions, and lay down plans for future operations—their followers are as much opposed to each other as Abram and Balthazar of the House of Montague were to Sampson and Gregory of the House of Capulet. One thing alone they agree in—they are determined to do everything in their power to obstruct her Majesty’s present Government.
It is very needful that such matters should be considered at the present time—that sober-minded people, who must take a part in the approaching election, should thoroughly understand the responsibility which devolves upon them, and the consequences which may ensue from their committing an error of judgment. The influence of party watchwords, though materially lessened of late years, has not yet ceased to exist; and it is possible that some men may, through a terror of being charged with political inconsistency, actually commit themselves to principles which they hold in sincere abhorrence. Therefore it is necessary to look, not only to the past and present position of parties, but also to their future prospects and views, according to the support which may be accorded to them by the country at the general election.
Let us suppose that, at the opening of the new Parliament, Lord Derby should be defeated by a vote of want of confidence. His resignation must follow as a matter of course, and then begins the strife. Past events render it perfectly clear that the old Whig Government cannot return to office, or, if it could do so, must act upon other principles than before. Lord John Russell’s resignation in February was an event which could not have been long postponed. His Cabinet was broken into divisions; it was unpopular out of doors; and his own conduct had, on various matters, been such as to engender general dissatisfaction. His Reform Bill was a measure which gave vast umbrage to the majority even of the urban electors. Its introduction was, perhaps, the most signal proof of his political weakness, and, we may add, of his ignorance of the state of popular feeling. No matter whether it was intended to be carried or not, it remains, and ever will remain, an example of the length to which personal ambition may carry an unscrupulous Minister. Earl Grey’s administration of the Colonies has become a byword for imbecility, blundering, and disaster. The finances were not in much better hands. No movement was made by Sir Charles Wood towards the termination of the Income-Tax, nor had he even the practical ability to reimpose it upon an equitable basis. We do not allude to these things by way of criticism on the past—indeed it would be unnecessary to do so, as they are matters of common notoriety. We state them merely to show that the reconstruction of the Whig Government, out of old materials, and on old principles, is a thing impossible, and that the next professing Liberal Government must differ greatly in kind and character from any which has hitherto preceded it.
Could it possibly be a moderate Government? Let us first consider that.
Not only the Radical party, (who must be looked upon as the chief supporters of such a Government,) but Lord John Russell and Sir James Graham, are pledged to the introduction of certain organic changes, differing only in degree. To suppose that any of them will adopt a less measure than that which they have advocated, is out of the question; and as the tendency of the movement has been, not from the Radicals to Lord John Russell, but from Lord John Russell to the Radicals, we may very naturally conclude that the result would be an approximation to the views of Mr Cobden. That gentleman, as we know, (for he does not scruple to tell us so in as many words,) has “ulterior objects” of his own, the time for developing which in safety has probably not yet arrived. We shall not inquire too curiously into the nature of those, being satisfied, as probably will be most of our readers who have watched the progress of the man, that they are not at all calculated to improve the stability of any of our institutions. We cannot, therefore, see what hopes can be entertained of the formation of a moderate Government, supposing Lord Derby’s to be overthrown; unless, instead of uniting with Mr Cobden, Lord John Russell could effect a union with some other political party.
No such party exists. Unless we are much deceived, the majority of the followers of the late Sir Robert Peel, at least the majority of those who may be able to re-enter Parliament, are prepared to give their support and confidence to Lord Derby’s Administration. There may, no doubt, be exceptions. Sir James Graham and Mr Cardwell are clearly out of the Conservative ranks, and may enlist under any banner they choose. But as it is extremely problematical whether either of these gentlemen will obtain seats in the new House of Commons, their views are of little consequence. Other Obstructives, of whom there are a few, have no chance whatever of being returned; so that the construction of what we may term a moderate Liberal Government could not take place, from absolute want of material. Indeed, judging from the language lately employed by the knight of Netherby, we should say that moderation is as far from his thoughts as from those of the rankest Radical in Oldham.
Unless, therefore, the electors are really anxious for a Radical Government and for Radical measures, they ought to abstain from giving a vote to any candidate who is hostile to the continuance of Lord Derby’s Administration. Let us not be misunderstood. We are not now arguing as to the propriety of sending Protectionists instead of Free-Traders to Parliament; we are not asking any man to forsake his opinions on points of commercial policy. Doubtless in the next Parliament there will be some opposed to the reimposition of duties upon corn, who, nevertheless, are prepared to accord their general support to Lord Derby, the more readily because he has distinctly stated that he leaves the corn-duties question “to the deliberate judgment of the country, and to the general concurrence of the country, without which I shall not,” said he, “bring forward that proposition.” But in voting for any candidate, who sets forward as a ground for his acceptance, the fact that he belongs to what is called “the Liberal party,” let the electors remember that they are in truth voting for Radical measures, and for organic changes. They may be slow to believe so, but there can actually and absolutely be no other result. These gentlemen of “the Liberal party,” however moderate their individual views may be, seek to enter Parliament for the purpose of overthrowing one Government and establishing another. Of course the overthrow must always precede the reconstruction; and, most commonly, it is not until the overthrow has been made, that the plan of the structure is considered. We have already stated our reasons—and we submit they are strong ones—for thinking that no moderate Liberal Government, in the proper sense of the term, can be again constructed; that Lord John Russell, if once more summoned to form a Cabinet, must do so on a Radical basis, and the inevitable consequence must be the establishment of a thorough democracy, on the ruins of our present Constitution. We appeal in this matter as directly to the old constitutional Whigs, as to that powerful body of the electors, who, entertaining moderate opinions, are attached to no particular party in the state. We entreat them earnestly to consider the difficulties of the present crisis—difficulties which have arisen not so much from any increasing power of the Radical faction, as from the weakness, vacillation, and strong personal ambition of the late Whig leader. No doubt it is an honourable and a high ambition which excites a statesman to aim at the possession of power, but the honour ceases the moment that principle is abandoned. And it does appear to us that, of late years, far too little attention has been paid to the terms of the conditions which are implied by a Minister’s acceptance of office. Under our constitutional monarchy he is the servant of the Crown, and he is bound to bring forward such measures only as will tend to the dignity and the safety of that, and the welfare of the people generally. Is it possible for any one conscientiously to maintain that Lord John Russell has pursued such a course? Is it not, on the contrary, apparent to all, that his main object, and the leading thought of his life, has ever been the supremacy of his own political party? Has he not, in order to prolong that supremacy, approached repeatedly to factions with whose principles he had nothing in common, and purchased their temporary support on terms alike degrading to the giver and to the recipient? That is not the art of governing, at least as it was understood of old. Once let it be known that a Government is plastic—that it may be bullied, coerced, or driven into making terms—and its moral power and influence are for ever gone. Is there any reason—we would ask the electors—why any man should incur such risk as must arise from the instalment of a Radical Ministry in power, solely from personal devotion to the interests of my Lord John Russell? There may be some who think that hitherto he has deserved well of his country. So be it: we have no objection that they should entertain such an opinion. But this much is undeniable, that however good his intentions might be, he neither could, nor can, command a majority of direct followers of his own; and that he has been forced to scramble on from point to point by the assistance of political antagonists, dexterously availing himself, at each turn, of the hand which was immediately nearest. But this kind of course must always have an end. A precipice lay before him; and, as no other arms were open, he leaped into those of Mr Cobden.
If the main body of the Whigs are prepared to follow Lord John Russell wherever he may go, notwithstanding all that has passed, and all that he has indicated for the future, we, of course, can have no manner of objection. But let them distinctly understand what is in store for them if they choose to adopt such a course. Many of them, we know, were thoroughly disgusted with the Reform Bill which he introduced this Session; and did not hesitate to express their conviction that it was an unnecessary, dangerous, and reprehensible measure. If Lord John Russell returns to power, he must bring in a new Reform Bill far more democratic than the last. That is the condition on which he is allowed to retain the nominal leadership of the Opposition, and from it he cannot depart. The Manchester party will not rest until they have attained their end. They are for no half-measures; they are plagued by no scruples. Their doctrine is, that political power should be vested in the uneducated masses,—“the instinct of the million being,” according to their great oracle, “wiser than the wisdom of the wisest.” In other words, mob rule is to be paramount, and whatever the majority wish to be done, must be straightway put into execution. Is there any reflecting man in the country who does not shudder at the thought of such a consummation?—is there any one conversant with history who does not see to what it must necessarily lead? With no lack of demagogues to mislead and excite them, what part of the British fabric would be secure against the attacks of an ignorant democracy? It may be true that Lord John Russell does not contemplate this—that he would even shrink from and repudiate the thought with horror. But he is not the less doing all in his power to forward the advance of anarchy. By consenting to lower the suffrage, he has given authority and significance to demands far more comprehensive in their scope. He has indicated that the bulwark which he himself erected, twenty years ago, is not to be considered as permanent, but merely temporary in its purpose. He has begun, like the foolish dikebuilder of Holland, to tamper with the seawall of his own construction, heedless of the inundation which must follow.
Let the Whigs pause for a moment, and consider what are the principles maintained by the men with whom their leader is now in alliance. Of their notions on religious matters it is difficult to speak with accuracy. One large section of them consists of rank Papists, men under the control and domination of the Roman Catholic priesthood, and ready to do their bidding in anything that may advance the supremacy of a false and apostate Church. Another section professes to regard all Churches and creeds as alike, maintaining, as a fundamental doctrine, that Establishments ought to be abolished, and religious teaching maintained only on the strict Voluntary principle. The advocates of this view are of course prepared to strike down the Established Churches of England and of Scotland, to overturn the whole existing ecclesiastical arrangements, and to confiscate ecclesiastical property. Another section is supremely indifferent to religious teaching of any kind, regarding secular education as quite sufficient for all the requirements of the people. These are the men who regard all opposition to Papal aggression as sheer bigotry and intolerance, who clamour for the admission of Jews into one House of Parliament, whilst in the same breath they profess themselves ready to dismiss the Christian prelates from the other. In politics they are republican, all except the name. But, in truth, it matters little what name is given to their creed, seeing that the principle which they profess is that of pure democracy. It is not pretended, and certainly they do not pretend, that if their scheme were carried, the House of Peers could continue on its present footing to coexist with the House of Commons. They admit that they have “ulterior objects”—all revolutionists have—and these are left to our conjecture. Is then our present Constitution so faulty, that the great body of the electors are prepared to risk, and to recommend a change?
If not, let them beware of returning any man who will so far support Lord John Russell as to act unscrupulously against Lord Derby. By all means let the measures of the present Government be considered with the utmost rigidness and exactitude, and let no favour be shown to them beyond what they conscientiously deserve. The ordeal may be—must be, a severe one; but Ministers will not shrink from it, being conscious of the integrity of their motives. But it is no part of the game of Opposition to allow them a fair trial, or even a fair hearing, if they can in anywise be prevented. They must, say the democrats, be crushed—and that immediately. Mr Cobden went the length of counselling that they should not be permitted to get through the business of the present Session, so apprehensive was he of the effect which an appeal to the constitutional feelings of the country might produce. He and Mr Villiers had concocted a scheme which they thought might precipitate a crisis, but it was too scandalously factious to admit of its being carried into effect.
The late Whig Government has been tried, and found wanting. It never can be reconstituted again, and its old supporters are undoubtedly released from all their ties of allegiance. It will be for them to determine whether they are to follow Lord John Russell in his retreat to the camp of the Radicals, or continue to maintain those constitutional principles which were once the boast of the Whig party. The question is indeed a serious and a momentous one. Lord Derby has most clearly indicated the nature of the ground on which he stands. He does not appeal to the country on this or that financial measure—he comes forward as the supporter of the Protestant institutions of the realm, and as the determined opponent of a designing and encroaching democracy. What sound Protestant, or true lover of his country, can be indifferent to such an appeal?
We have been thus particular in noticing the state of parties, because we observe that various underlings of the late Government are canvassing constituencies, especially in Scotland, in rather an artful manner. They keep out of sight altogether the fact of the Chesham Place alliance. They are as unwilling to allude to that treaty as to the notorious Lichfield House compact, when the Whigs bartered religious principle for Roman Catholic support. Now, this may be very convenient for those gentlemen; but, we presume, the electors will agree with us in thinking that the sooner they can arrive at a distinct understanding upon such points the better. It is all very well to talk of “judicious and timely reform,” but the orator who uses such terms should go a little further, and explain to his audience the exact nature of the reform which he contemplates. Because, if Lord John Russell’s abortive Bill is not to be introduced again, but, in the event of his resumption of office, another, revised by Mr Cobden, and approximating to the full requirements of the Manchester politicians, is to be tabled instead—it would be as well to know how far the liberality of honourable candidates will permit them to advance. Also, it would be a curious and not unprofitable subject of inquiry whether they still hold themselves to be bound by the acts of their parliamentary leader? If they attended the meeting at Chesham Place, they must be held as consenting parties to the Cobden compact; if they did not, it might not be useless to ask who is their leader, and what line of policy do they intend to pursue? It is a good thing to hear the abstract opinions of political soldiers and subalterns; but in these times, it is much more instructive to learn the name of the captain of their troop. None of the gentlemen to whom we are alluding are likely to originate measures—they must be contented to take the word of command from others. If, therefore, they remain, and intend to remain, followers of Lord John Russell, they form part of that grand army of which Mr Cobden is a general of division, if not something higher. They have pronounced for the democracy, and as democrats they should accordingly be viewed.
It would be exceedingly instructive if we could exact from each candidate a distinct definition of the meaning which he attaches to the term “Liberal principles.” We observe from the Edinburgh newspapers that a gentleman, professing “liberal principles,” proposes to contest the representation of the Montrose burghs with Mr Joseph Hume—the inference being, that the principles of the said Joseph are not sufficiently liberal! Then, at Paisley, a candidate recommended by the same Joseph Hume, and that superlative twaddler Sir Joshua Walmsley, comes forward, on “liberal principles,” to oppose Mr Hastie, whom we have hitherto been accustomed to regard as rather in advance of the Whigs. The Radicals of Perth did not think Mr Fox Maule “liberal” enough for them, since they brought forward an opponent in the person of a certain Mr Gilpin; and now that Mr Maule has succeeded to the peerage, the gentleman who next solicits the suffrages of the Fair City in his place, must make up his mind to compare his “liberal principles” with those of the Gilpin. Not long ago a well-known Whig citizen and civic functionary of Edinburgh declared himself opposed to any further extension of the suffrage, thereby intimating his dissent from the principle of Lord John Russell’s Bill; and yet, at a meeting lately held for the purpose of selecting a candidate, this same individual moved a resolution to the effect that the candidate ought to be a man professing “liberal opinions!” Really there is something ludicrous and intensely absurd in this general employment of a phrase which can be made to mean almost anything. Is a man in favour of a republic, abolition of the House of Peers, suppression of the Church, and repudiation of the national debt? Then he is undoubtedly a man of “liberal principles.” Is he merely for household suffrage, electoral divisions, vote by ballot, and triennial parliaments? He is likewise of “liberal principles.” Is he a thick-and-thin supporter of Lord John Russell, having held a place under the late Government? Who so ready as he to lay claim to “liberal principles.” Does he wish the separation of Church and State? “Liberal” again. Does he back up the Papacy in their insolent attempts at aggression, and defend the grant of Maynooth? He does so on “liberal principles.” Does he wish to see the Jews in Parliament? He vindicates that wish on the score of “liberal principles.” Now, surely, unless logic is an art as lying as that of chiromancy, it cannot be that all the men holding such conflicting opinions are entitled to the name of Liberals, or to claim credit to themselves for entertaining “liberal opinions.” If so, who is illiberal? But it is not worth while to comment further upon a point so very obvious as this. If Liberalism means contemplated overthrow and anarchy, we make the gentlemen who profess such principles as welcome to their title as was the late Thomas Paine, when he too arrogated to himself, in his isolation, the name of Liberal. If it means adherence to the principles of the Constitution, love of social order, and regard for the welfare of the general body of the people, we fear that we must deny the name to a good many of those who claim it.
One miserable feature in the conduct of some of thesesoi-disantLiberal candidates, especially the new ones, is their extreme avidity to swallow any pledge that may be proposed, provided that, by so doing, they can secure the suffrages of some inconsiderable fraction of the electors. Their addresses are not deliberate expositions of their own formed opinions, but are framed upon another and very liberal principle. They endeavour to ascertain the points of doctrine which are supposed to be the most popular with the constituency whom they are ambitious to represent, and they issue their manifestoes accordingly. If anything has been omitted, or if they have not gone far enough, an opportunity is usually afforded them to make up for that deficiency at the first meeting of the electors—so called by courtesy, for in many cases there are not half-a-dozen electors, besides those on the platform, in the room. Such meetings are invariably attended by the busy-bodies of the place—radical cobblers, church-rate martyrs, philosophical barbers, and perhaps one or two specimens of that most loathsome of all animals, the dirty dandy. Here the candidate is expected to go through his facings, and to answer every question which insolence can suggest, or ignorance render unintelligible. No matter:—as our friend is a member of the “Liberal party,” he can safely expand his conscience to any extent which may be required; and the decisive and prompt manner in which he frequently disposes of the most knotty points of social and political economy, is delightful and edifying. Without ever having read a single page on the subject, he is quite ready to reconstruct the Currency, and pledges himself to bring in a bill to that effect, at the request of a snuffy dealer in gingerbread, who never had credit for five pounds in his life, and who has just made application for acessio bonorum. An individual in fustian, evidently in the last stage ofdelirium tremens, after a hiccupped harangue on ecclesiastical rapacity, demands from him his thoughts upon Church Establishments in general; and the liberal candidate at once undertakes to have them all suppressed. If his opinions on the subject of National Education are somewhat vague, the fault lies with the respectable non-elector, who could not frame his question so as to render it intelligible. To one earnest inquirer—a carrier—he promises an entire and compulsory stoppage of Sunday trains. To another—a publican—he pledges himself to remove the excise duties from British spirits. To a third—a cabman—he indicates his resolution of commencing a violent onslaught on the Customs, so that “the poor man’s tobacco” may be no longer smoked under a sense of injustice. Of course he disposes very summarily of the Army, Navy, and Colonies, these being parasitical weeds which ought immediately to be done away with; in fact, before he has done, there is hardly one institution, tax, custom, establishment, or system in the United Kingdom which he has not denounced as odious, and which he has not pledged himself to alter! So convenient are your “liberal principles” in adjusting themselves to the popular will.
What takes place now, bad as it is, is but a faint type of what would be enacted if democracy had the upper-hand; and we would recommend all those who are sceptical as to this matter, to attend personally some meeting at which a candidate is subjected to this kind of examination, and mark the intelligence which is displayed by the questioners, and the consistency which is exhibited in the replies. It is, indeed, as sorry a spectacle as a man could wish to witness; and could we suppose it to be a reflex either of the mind of the electors, or of the settled opinions of those who are likely to be Liberal members of Parliament, the idea would inevitably cast a heavy gloom over our anticipations for the future. But the truth is, that the electors have little or nothing to do with it; and the great majority of the upstart aspirants after the honours of legislation will, in a month or so, return to their usual avocations, probably not without an imprecation on the folly which induced them, at the bidding of an interested faction, to suspend the humble toils on which their daily bread depended, and expose themselves alike to ridicule and defeat. There are, however, reflections of a very serious nature suggested by the efforts which the Radical party are making for the introduction of organic changes, which ought not to be lightly passed over.
Why is it that certain parties are now, more than heretofore, engaged in getting up a cry for reform and extension of suffrage? Why is it that some men, ostensibly belonging to the Whig party, who, a year or two ago, held such views in utter detestation, have declared themselves favourable to the movement? Has anything been done to curtail the popular privileges—to take away from the people any portion of the power which they previously possessed—to curtail the liberty of the press—or in any way to trench upon the rights which are common to every subject? Has there been any tyranny on the part of the Crown—any audible complaint against the acts of the House of Peers? Nothing of the kind. Has, then, the House of Commons failed in the fulfilment of its duty? That averment can hardly be made, with consistency at least, by any member of the Liberal party, since they have made it their boast that, at the present moment, they are in possession of a majority in the Lower House, and have taken credit to themselves for magnanimity in allowing Lord Derby’s Ministry to exist, as they say, by sufferance, until the ordinary business of the Session is completed. What, then, can be the motive for the change which is now so loudly urged? It is simply this: The Liberal party are aware that they no longer possess the confidence of the country, and they hope, by rousing a new and formidable agitation, to divert the public mind into another channel, and prevent it from dwelling upon the injuries which they have inflicted upon the industrious classes of the nation. How otherwise can we account for this sudden and violent mania for extending the suffrage, which is apparent in the election speeches of most of the Liberal candidates? Mark the inconsistency of these men. They tell us—no matter whether falsely or not—that the country never was in a state of greater prosperity than now, and that such has been the fruit of their earnest and triumphant efforts. Very well. If it be so, what reason can be urged for making any organic change? Are not the prosperity and the welfare of a nation, and that content which, as we are told, reigns among the working-classes, the surest proofs that the Constitution is working admirably; and would it not, in that case, be utter madness to alter its arrangement? Yet such is the dilemma in which the Liberals, including Lord John Russell, are placed. They dare not aver that the country is not prospering, seeing that, for many years, they have had it all their own way, and that any statement of the kind would be tantamount to a censure passed upon themselves. On the contrary, they avow prosperity in the highest degree, and yet they are clamouring for a change, which cannot improve, but may possibly imperil it!
They cannot say that they demand extension of the suffrage because the acts of another Ministry might possibly endanger the prosperity which they assume to exist. Both the Radicals and Lord John Russell had declared for extension of the suffrage long before Lord Derby was summoned to take office. They were quite as keen for organic change at the time when they tauntingly told us that Protection was coffined and buried for ever, as they are now when they behold it in life and motion. Nor can they reasonably suppose that a cry for extended suffrage will be generally acceptable to the great body of the present electors, who are jealous enough of the privileges which they have so long possessed, and are by no means disposed to part with them, or to be swamped by the uneducated rabble. We are loath to suppose that any, beyond the worst and most unprincipled agitators of the Manchester rump, are base enough to hope in their hearts that they may succeed in exciting popular tumult and disturbance. We shall not consult Mr Roebuck’sHistory of the Whig Ministryfor any similar passages in former days—we content ourselves with the assurance that no disposition of the kind exists anywhere. Therefore, after looking at the subject in all its bearings, we are constrained to come to the conclusion, that all this talk about reform on the part of the Liberals has its origin in a sincere and not unnatural desire to mislead the people of this country, and to withdraw their attention from those matters in which they are immediately and most deeply interested.
The advocates of that system which has been dominant for several years, although its introduction is of an older date, are, of course, loud in its praise, and claim for it the credit of full and triumphant success. We do not deny that their system has, in the mean time, had the effect of cheapening commodities, though not in the ratio which they predicted. The price of the loaf, of sugar, and of various other articles commonly termed “of first necessity,” is lowered; and we may fairly acknowledge that to many this not only appears, but is, a valuable boon. For, undoubtedly, if we could procure all the articles which we consume at a far lower rate than before, retaining, at the same time, our incomes undiminished, we should each of us be immense gainers—we might either work less, and continue to live as formerly, or we might work as formerly, and gradually accumulate a capital; but if, in proportion to the cheapness of commodities, our incomes equally diminish, then it is not easy to see wherein the advantage lies.
It is obvious, then, that at least one class of persons—those who are in the receipt of fixed incomes—must profit materially by any system which induces the cheapening of commodities. The mere annuitant can now live more comfortably than before; but as annuitants do not constitute a very large class of the community, and as they necessarily must derive their incomes from the product of internal labour, we apprehend that, in treating of such questions, it is proper to look directly to the working and productive classes. We do not intend to argue over again points which we have repeatedly discussed in previous articles; our object just now is to show that these pretended Liberals have reason on their side in wishing to escape from a calm and deliberate investigation of the consequences of their lauded policy.
We are told by them that the working-classes never were so comfortable as they are just now. If we believed this, and believed also that the comfortcould be permanent—because both points of belief are necessary before any one can be convinced of the excellence of their system—we should submit to the deep degradation of acknowledging, in silence and tears, our conversion to the tenets of the men of Manchester. But, unfortunately, we believe nothing of the kind—nay, we know that the contrary is the fact; and, first, let us try to understand, if possible, the meaning of the Free-Traders.
We need not complicate the question as to what the working-classes are, by insisting that every man who depends for his support upon his own exertions belongs to that order. Heaven knows that the pen is oftentimes a more toilsome implement than the shuttle or the spade; and, although we cannot say that we ever had a fancy to try our hand at the loom, we would have no objection, on occasion, to take a turn at trenching. By the working-classes, we understand those who are engaged in mechanical toil—in tilling the earth, cultivating its products, raising and smelting its minerals, producing fabrics from raw materials, and assisting the operations of commerce and manufactures in an endless variety of ways. They are distinguished from the capitalist in this, that they labour with their hands, and that labour is their sole inheritance.
That it is the first duty of every Government to guard and protect that class, has been our invariable doctrine. In them the motive strength of Britain lies. Machinery is of man’s invention—the human frame is the work of God alone, animated by His breath, and must not be treated as a machine. They may be called upon—as all of us are called upon—to contribute some portion of their labour for the maintenance of our national institutions, which have undeniably exempted us from those terrible calamities by which almost every other state in Europe has been visited. A bad system of the entailment of state debts, commenced more than a hundred and sixty years ago by a monarch who came over to this country as a Liberator, has increased the national burdens, and occasioned a further tax upon labour. Yet, nevertheless, it is undeniable that the condition of the British labourer, in every department of industry, has been for a long time superior to that of his fellow in any other European country. The men of the working-classes are, though they may not know it, possessed of enormous power. Wronged they cannot be, except by their own consent, and as victims of delusion; for the sympathy of the intelligence of the country is with them, and so is that of the higher orders. To all who have true nobility of soul, the rights of the working man are sacred; and when that ceases to be the case, the days of the aristocracy are numbered.
Butwhyis it that the condition of the British labourer has been superior to that of his foreign equal? That is indeed a consideration of the very greatest importance; and it would be well if statistical compilers and political economists had set themselves seriously to consider “the reason why,” instead of simply noting the fact. We have read a good many volumes—more than we care to enumerate—written by gentlemen of that class, but we never have been able to find any intelligible explanation of that phenomenon. Yet surely it is a remarkable one. This country is, in respect of its population, far more heavily burdened than any of the leading states of Europe—it has not the climatic advantages of some of them—and it can scarcely be said to produce the precious metals. Its exports, though undoubtedly large, were, and are, as nothing to the quantity produced, intended for the home consumption. It has been computed, from an investigation of the census taken in 1841, that not much more than half a million of people, the population being then nearly twenty seven millions, were employed in the manufacture of articles for the foreign trade.[33]
It may be useful here to mention that, according to one foreign statistical authority, Schnabel, the proportion of taxes paid yearly by each individual in Great Britain, France, and Prussia, was in the following ratio:—
And the comparative rate of agricultural wages is stated thus by Rau, in hisLehrbuch der Politischen Oekonomie:—
These figures, of course, may be slightly inaccurate, but they are sufficient to show the great variation, both in taxation and wages, which prevails in the three countries which are here specified; and we have no reason to believe that, during the few years which have elapsed since these calculations were made, any material difference in proportion has taken place. A similar discrepancy prevails in wages of every kind. For example, Mr Porter tells us that in Wurtemberg the wages of the artisans in towns are from 1s. 8d. to 4s. 2d. per week; that in Bavaria “labourers are paid at the rate of 8d. per day in the country, and from 8d. to 1s. 4d. in the towns;” and that in Saxony “a man employed in his loom, working very diligently from Monday morning until Saturday night, from five o’clock in the morning until dusk, and even at times with a lamp, his wife assisting him in finishing and taking him the work, could not possibly earn more than 20 groschen (2s. 6d. sterling) per week.” We might have added many other instances to these, but we judge it to be unnecessary. We quote them simply for the purpose of showing that labour in Britain, if heavily taxed, was better remunerated than elsewhere.
Now, why was it better remunerated? That is—after all that has been said and written on the subject, and Eolus-bags of oratory, and hundreds of thousands of reams of paper have been expended on it—the question, upon the solution of which the merit of the rival systems depends. It was better remunerated in this way—because in Great Britain there has been a far greater outlay of capital in every department and branch of industry, than has been made in any other country of the world. With us, land has been reclaimed, and brought under tillage, which elsewhere would have been left in a state of nature. At an immense cost the difficulties of climate have been overcome, and the soil rendered productive, and capable of sustaining an increased number of inhabitants. We must go back farther than the memory of the present generation can reach, in order to appreciate the vast nature of the improvements which were so effected. Since the commencement of the present century, very nearly four millions of acres, in England alone, have been brought into cultivation under the Inclosure Acts, besides all that has been effected by private enterprise—and it is probable that amount immensely exceeds the other—on land held by a simple tenure. Eighty years ago, the greater part of the surface of what are now our best cultivated counties, was covered with heath and ling, and of course wholly unproductive. It was from this outlay of capital in the cultivation of the soil that the rapid growth of our towns, and the great increase of our manufactures, took their rise. The latter cannot precede—it must always follow the other. The country supplied the towns with food, and the towns in turn supplied the country with manufactures. Such being the case, it is evident that the prosperity of either interest depended greatly upon the circumstances of the other. If agriculture was depressed, from whatever cause, there was no longer the same demand as formerly for manufactures; if manufactures were depressed, the agriculturist suffered in his turn. But in reality, except from over-trading, and a competition pushed to an extent which has affected the national interest, it is difficult to understand how a depression in manufactures for the home trade could take place, except through and in consequence of agricultural calamity. The home demand was remarkably steady, and could be calculated upon with almost a certainty of return. It was reserved for the enlightened economists of our age to discover that the interests of agriculture and manufactures were not harmonious. Such, clearly, was not the theory of our forefathers. The Book of Common Prayer contains a form of thanksgiving for a good harvest—it has none for a year of unusual export and import.
We must not, however, pass over without notice, the circumstances which led to the extraordinary development of industry and enterprise in Great Britain, in every department. Without consumers, it is quite evident that agriculture could not have advanced with such rapid strides; and it is important that there should be no misunderstanding on this matter. The possession of a hundred or a thousand acres of land is of little value unless the owner can command a remunerative market for his produce; nor will he cultivate his land to the utmost unless he has the assurance of such a market. It is all very well to say, that, by the expenditure of a certain sum of money, such and such an amount of crops may be reared on each acre;—that is a mere feat of agricultural chemistry, such as Mr Huxtable offered to undertake upon pure sand with the assistance of pigs’ dung; but the real and only question is—will the return meet the outlay? Without some unusual and extraordinary cause to increase the number of consumers, it is clear to us that the progress of agriculture must have been comparatively slow; and accordingly, we find that cause in the Continental war, which continued for nearly a quarter of a century, and which has effected such mighty changes—the end of which is not yet apparent—in the social position of Great Britain.
To maintain that war, the resources of this country were taxed to the utmost. So great were the demands, that they could not possibly have been met but for two things—one being the result of internal arrangement, and the other arising from external circumstances. The first of these was the suspension of cash payments, and the extension, or rather creation, of credit, arising from an unlimited paper currency. The second was the monopoly of the foreign markets, which we engrossed, in virtue of our naval supremacy. No writer on the social state of Britain, even at the present hour, and no political economist who does not specially refer to these two circumstances, are worth consulting. Better put their volumes into the fire, than discuss effects without regard to their antecedent cause.
It may be that the extent to which that unlimited currency was pushed, has since had disastrous results. If unwisely permitted without control or regulation, it was, as we think, contracted in a manner even more unwise; and the practical consequence has been an enormous addition to the weight of the public debt. But without a currency of very large extent—without the credit which that currency created—Great Britain could not have continued the struggle so long, nor brought it to a triumphant issue. It was this that stimulated both agriculture and manufactures, the latter having, in addition, the inestimable privilege of the command of the markets of the world, without any interference of a rival. Reclaimed fields and new manufactories were the products of that period; and unquestionably there never was an era in our history when prosperity appeared to be more generally diffused. If prices were high, so were wages. Employment was plentiful, because improvement was progressing on every side, and no jealousy existed between the manufacturer and the agriculturist. During fifteen years, from 1801 to 1815, the average annual quantity of wheat and wheat-flour imported to this country was only 506,000 quarters.
Perhaps it may be instructive here to quote the words of an acute observer in 1816, regarding the improvements which had taken place, before any check occurred. The writer of the historical summary in theEdinburgh Annual Registerfor that year thus expresses himself:—
“During the continuance of the last war, many things had conspired to stimulate to the highest extent the exertions of every class of the people of England. Cut off by the decrees of Buonaparte from direct intercourse with some of the richest countries of Europe, the policy which England had adopted in revenge of this exclusion, had greatly increased the action of those many circumstances which naturally tended towards rendering her the great, or rather the sole entrepot, of the commerce of the world. In her the whole of that colonial trade which had formerly been sufficient to enrich, not her alone, but France and Holland also, had now centred. The inventive zeal of her manufacturers had gone on from year to year augmenting and improving branches of industry, in which, even before, she had been without a rival. The increase of manufactures had been attended with a perpetual increase in the demand for agricultural produce, and the events of the two years of scarcity (as they were called) lent an additional spring to the motion of those whose business it was to meet this demand. The increase which took place in the agricultural improvements of the island, was such as had never before been equalled in any similar period of time. Invention followed invention, for economising labour, and increasing production; till throughout no inconsiderable part of the whole empire the face of the country was changed. ‘It may safely be said,’ asserted Mr Brougham, ‘that without at all comprehending the waste lands wholly added to the productive tenantry of the island, not perhaps that two blades of grass now grow where one only grew before, but certainly that five grow where four used to be; and that this kingdom, which foreigners were wont to taunt as a mere manufacturing and trading country, inhabited by a shopkeeping nation, is, in reality, for its size, by far the greatest agricultural state in the world!’”
Contrary, perhaps, to the general expectation, the close of the war and the return of peace operated disastrously upon the internal interests of the country. Though the manufacturing energies of the Continent had been checked, its agriculture was ready and available; and accordingly, no sooner were the ports opened than prices fell at an alarming rate. The result was not only immediate agricultural distress in Britain, butthe greatest depression in every branch of manufacture connected with the home trade. The agricultural distress needs no explanation. The vast improvements on land had been made with borrowed money; and when prices went down, the proprietor too often found himself unable from his rents to pay the bare interest of the money expended. Yet, had these improvements not taken place, how could Britain have continued the struggle so long—how could her manufacturing population have been fed? These are questions never considered now, especially by those agitators who revile the landlords, or rather the Legislature, for the imposition of the Corn Laws; but the truth is, that, unless the corn duty had been then imposed, England must, within a very few years, either have exhibited the humiliating spectacle of a bankrupt and ruined state, or been plunged in revolution. The distress rapidly spread to the manufacturers—for example, those engaged in the silk trade, and the iron and coal-workers of Staffordshire and Wales. The fall in the price of corn produced its natural effect by limiting the consumption of everything else; and, as if to crown the calamity, the exporting manufacturers, in their eagerness for gain, committed precisely the same blunder, from the effects of which they are now suffering so severely; and by creating a glut in the Continental markets, they both annihilated their own profits, and excited such an alarm in foreign governments as to give rise to a system of prohibitory duties, which continues to the present hour. Then followed the resumption of cash payments, with all its train of ruin—a measure which, whether necessary or not in principle, could not have been carried but for the existence of a corn law, which in some degree mitigated its pressure.
In a country so loaded with debt as ours, it is in vain to talk, as Lord John Russell lately did, of a “natural price.” The term, indeed, has no kind of significance under any circumstances; and we are perfectly certain that the noble lord, when he employed it, was not attempting to clothe a distinct idea in words. He found the phrase somewhere—perhaps borrowed it from theEconomist—and used it, because he thought it sounded well. If he could reduce the price of all commodities here to the level of that which prevails in a Continental country—a consummation which appears to be contemplated and desired by the Free-Traders—the result would necessarily be a like decadence of our wealth—not accompanied, however, by a relaxation of our present burdens. The high wages which the working-classes receive in this country, contrasted with the low wages which are given elsewhere, depend upon the return which is yielded to the capitalist who calls their labour into being. Now, let us see what effect depression in any one great branch of industry exercises upon the working-classes, who are not immediately dependent upon it for their subsistence.
This involves one of the most curious phenomena in economical science. When an interest is depressed, it does not always happen—especially in the first stage of depression—that the labourers attached to that interest feel immediately the consequences of the decline. Agricultural wages, for example, do not fluctuate according to the price of wheat. The retrenchment which becomes necessary in consequence of lessened returns is usually effected, in the first instance at least, by curtailment of personal expenditure on the part of the cultivator—by abstinence from purchases, not necessary indeed, but convenient—and by that species of circumspect, but nameless thrift, which, at the end of a year, makes a very considerable difference in the amount of tradesmen’s bills. This kind of retrenchment is the easiest, the safest, and the most humane; and it is not until the depression becomes so great as to render other and more stringent modes of economising necessary, that the agricultural labourer is actually made to feel his entire dependence upon the land, and the interest which he has in its returns. The small tradesmen and dealers in the country and market towns are usually the first to discern what is called the pressure of the times. They find that the farmers are no longer taking from them the same quantity of goods as before; that their stocks, especially of the more expensive articles, remain on their hands unsold; and that there is no demand for novelties. If the depression goes so far as to necessitate a diminution of rental, then the same economy, but on a wider scale, is practised by the landlord. Expensive luxuries are given up, establishments contracted, and the town’s-people begin to complain of a dull season, for which they find it impossible to account, seeing that money is declared to be cheap. All this reacts upon the artisans very severely; because in towns labour has a far less certain tenure than in the country; and when there is a cessation of demand, workmen, however skilled, are not only liable, but certain to be dismissed. If the shopkeeper cannot get his goods off his hands, the manufacturer need not expect to prevail upon him to give any farther orders. The demand upon the mills becomes slack, and the manufacturer, finding that there is no immediate prospect of revival, considers it his duty to have recourse to short time.
This is precisely what has been going on for the last two years. Landlords and farmers have curtailed their expenditure in consequence of the great fall of prices; and the parties who have actually suffered the most are the tradesmen with whom they commonly deal, and the artisans in their employment. It is impossible to affect materially the gigantic interest of agriculture without striking a heavy blow at the prosperity of home manufactures; and unfortunately these manufactures, or at least many branches of them, are now liable to foreign competition. If it should be allowed that this is a true statement of the case—and we cannot see how it can be controverted—then it will appear that the working-classes, the vast majority of whom are engaged in producing for the home market, have lost largely in employment if they have gained by cheaper food.
And it is most remarkable, that in proportion as food has become cheap in this country, so has emigration increased. That is apparently one of the strangest features of the whole case. What contentment can there be in a nation when the people are deserting their native soil by hundreds of thousands? They did not do so while the other system was in operation. Whatever were the faults of Protection, it did not give rise to scenes like the following, which we find quoted in theEconomistof 17th April, as if it were something rather to be proud of than otherwise. The pious editor entitles it “The Exodus.” Certainly he and his friends have made Ireland the reverse of a land flowing with milk and honey:—
“The flight of the population from the south is thus described by theClonmel Chronicle:—‘The tide of emigration has set in this year more strongly than ever it has within our memories. During the winter months, we used to observe solitary groups wending their way towards the sea-coast, but since the season opened, (and a most beautiful one it is,) these groups have been literally swelled into shoals, and, travel what road you may, you will find upon it strings of cars and drays, laden with women and children and household stuffs, journeying onward, their final destination being America. In all other parts of the country it is the same. At every station along the rail, from Goold’s Cross to Sallins, the third-class carriages receive their quota of emigrants. The Grand Canal passage-boats, from Shannon harbour to Sallins, appear every morning at their accustomed hour, laden down with emigrants and their luggage, on their way to Dublin, and thence to Liverpool, whence they take shipping for America.’”
And yet this wholesale expatriation is so far from appearing a disastrous sign, that it does not even excite a word of comment from the cold-blooded man of calculations. Truly there are various points of similarity between the constitution of the Free-Trader and the frog!
Remarkable undoubtedly it is, and to be remarked and remembered in all coming estimates of the character and ability of the men, styling themselves statesmen, whose measures have led to the frightful depopulation of a part of the British Empire. Remarkable it is, but not to be wondered at, seeing that the same thing must occur in every instance where a great branch of industry is not only checked, but rendered unprofitable. Succeeding generations will hardly believe that it was the design of the Whigs and the Free-Traders to feed the Irish people with foreign grain, and so promote their prosperity, at a time when their sole wealth was derived from agricultural produce. Just fancy a scheme for promoting the prosperity of Newcastle by importing to it coals to be sold at half the price for which that article is at present delivered at the pit-mouth! Conceive to yourselves the ecstasy which would prevail in Manchester if Swiss calicoes were brought there to be vended at rates greatly lower than are now charged by the master manufacturers! Undoubtedly the people of Newcastle and the operatives of Manchester would in that case pay less than formerly both for fuel and clothing—both of them “first articles of necessity;” but we rather imagine that no long time would elapse before there were palpable symptoms of a very considerable emigration. And lest, in their grand reliance in a monopoly of coals and cottons, the Free-Traders should scoff at our parallels as altogether visionary, we challenge them to make a trial in a case which is not visionary.Let them take off the manufacturing protective duties which still exist, and try the effect of that measure upon Birmingham, Sheffield, and Paisley.Of course they know better than to accept any such challenge; but we warn the manufacturers—and let them look to it in time—that the day is rapidly drawing near when all these duties must be repealed, unless justice is done to the other suffering interests. If they persist in asking Free Trade, and in refusing all equivalents or reparation for the mischief they have done,they shall have Free Trade,BUT ENTIRE. Then we shall see whether they—with all their machinery, all their ingenuity, and all their capital—with all their immunity from burdens which are imposed upon other classes—with all the stimulus given to them by the income-tax, now levied since 1842, in order that taxes weighing on the manufacturing interest might be repealed—can compete on open terms in the home market with the manufacturers of the Continent. Do not let them deceive themselves; that reckoning is nigh at hand. They must be content to accept the measure with which they have meted to others; and we tell them fairly, that they need not hope that this subject will be any longer overlooked.Not one rag of protection can be left to manufactures of any kind, whether made up or not, if Free Trade is to be the commercial principle of the country. If so, the principle must be universally recognised.
What is now taking place in Ireland, must, ere long, we are convinced, take place in Britain. Nay, in so far as Scotland is concerned, the same symptoms are exhibited already, almost in the same degree. In one point of view, we cannot deplore the emigration. If it is fated that, through the blindness and cupidity of men whose religious creed consists of Trade Returns, and whose sole deity is Mammon, the system which has contributed so much to the greatness and wealth of the nation, and which has created a garden out of a wilderness, is to be abandoned for ever, it is better that our people should go elsewhere, and find shelter under a government which, if not monarchïcal, may be more paternal than their own. It is a bitter thing, that expatriation; but it has been the destiny of man since the Fall. They will find fertile land to till in the prairies of the West—they will have blue skies above them, and a brighter sun than here; and, if that be any consolation to them in their exile, they may still contribute to the supply of food to the British market, without paying, as they must have done had they continued here, their quota to the taxes of the country. But we must fairly confess that we feel less sympathy for those who go than for those who are compelled to linger. Until the home demand is revived—which can only be in consequence of the enhanced value of home produce—we can see nothing but additional misery in store for all those artisans and operatives who are unconnected with the foreign trade. With regard to that trade, we have yet to learn how it has prospered. Those who are engaged in it admit that, in spite of increased exports—which, be it remembered, do not by any means imply increased demand—their reasonable hopes have been disappointed; and that in regard to the countries from which we now derive the largest supply of corn, their exports have materially decreased. That is a symptom of no common significance; for it shows that, simultaneously with the increase of their agriculture, those countries are fostering and extending their own manufactures. As for the other—the home trade—it is, by the unanimous acknowledgment of our opponents, daily dwindling; and the income of the country—as the last returns of the property-tax, which do not by any means disclose the whole amount of the deficit, have shown us—has fallen off six millions within the last two years. Were we to add the diminution on incomes under £150 per annum, we have no doubt whatever that the loss would be found to amount to more than three times that sum. All that is so much lost to the retailer and home manufacturer. For a time, even yet, cheapness may serve to palliate and disguise the evil; but it cannot do so long. Many important branches of industry, such as the iron trade, are in a state of extreme depression. The evil is not confined to the mother country; it is impoverishing the fairest parts of our colonial empire. Some of the sugar-growing colonies are on the verge of abandonment. Unless a very different policy from that adopted by the Liberals is pursued and sanctioned by the people of this country, the catastrophe cannot long be delayed; and then, perhaps, the British public, though too late, may be instructed as to the relative value of colonial possessions of our own, and those belonging to states which do not recognise reciprocity.
Years ago, when the Free-Traders were in the first blush of their success, and the minds of men were still inflamed with the hot fever of speculation, the advocates of the new system were requested to state in what way they proposed to employ that mass of labour which must necessarily be displaced by the substitution of so much foreign produce instead of our own. They answered, with the joyousness of enthusiasm, that there would be room enough and to spare in the factories for every man who might so be thrown out of employment. It was not until an after period that the stern and dreary remedy of emigration was prescribed and enforced—not until it had become apparent from experience that all their hopes of increased profit from foreign trade and expected reciprocity were based upon a delusion. Then indeed the misery which had been created by reckless legislation was exalted into a cause for triumph, and the Exodus of the poor from the land of their birth, wherein they no longer could find the means of labour, was represented as a hopeful sign of the future destinies of the country.
We are very far, indeed, from blaming those who, at the present time, declare themselves averse to any violent changes, and who think that some remedy and redress may be given, without having recourse to an entire alteration of the principle upon which our present commercial policy is based. It may be that time is yet required before the effects of Free Trade can be fully felt and appreciated by some of the classes of this country; and, certainly, the first step which ought to be taken in the new Parliament, should be a readjustment of taxation, corresponding to the altered circumstances of the community. Of course, as this demand is founded strictly upon justice, it will be opposed strenuously by many of those who glory in their Liberal opinions; but we believe that the great bulk of the British people, whatever may be their thoughts on other points, have that regard to justice, that they will not countenance oppression. It may be that the agricultural classes cannot yet expect to receive that measure of relief which they have waited and hoped for so long. The partial failure of the last harvest on the Continent, though it has not brought up prices to a remunerative level, has had more than the effect of checking their further decline; and that circumstance, we are bound to admit, may have some influence on the minds of many who are slow to believe that foreign importations can really affect the permanence of British agriculture. The experience of another season may be necessary to open their eyes. So far as we can gather from the opinions of men who are engaged in the trade, and who are best qualified to form a judgment upon such subjects, we may look almost immediately for a great increase of importations, and a rapid decline of prices. The failure on the Continent did not extend to the wheat crop—it was limited to the rye and potatoes, the customary food of the peasantry; and it is now ascertained that there is a large surplus of wheat ready to be thrown into our ports. But it would be out of place to discuss such points just now. The verdict lies with the country, to which Lord Derby has appealed. If that verdict should not be of a nature to enable him at once to apply a remedy to agricultural distress, by the reimposition of a duty on corn, then we must look in the first instance to such a readjustment of burdens as shall at least give fair play to the cultivator of the soil. But there is much more than this. The strength of the Protective case lies in its universal application to all classes of the community; and it is not we, but our opponents, who affect to regard it as a question in which no one is interested beyond the landlord and the tenant. We look upon it as of vital importance to the retailer, the tradesman, the artisan, and the home manufacturer, and to all who labour for them; and it appears to us that the time has now arrived when a full and searching Parliamentary inquiry should be made on the subject of the cheap loaf in connection with the rate of wages, and the prosperity of the home trade. Surely the Free-Traders can have no reason to object to this. They ground their case on philanthropy and regard to the interest of the poor and labouring man, and in that respect we are both agreed. Well then;—if, as we think and say, agricultural distress, occasioned by the low prices which have prevailed in consequence of the large importations of foreign corn, has had the effect of lessening employment generally throughout the country—a position which, in our mind, is much strengthened by the enormous and unprecedented increase of emigration—surely that proposition is capable of tangible proof or equally distinct refutation. Let us know, from authentic sources, not from partial or interested assertion, whether, along with the cheap loaf, the people have had full and remunerative employment—whether the condition of the working-classes and of the home interests has been improved by the change or not. The inquiry undoubtedly would be an extended, but at the same time a most valuable one. It would necessarily, in order to arrive at a fair and thorough understanding of the subject, embrace the present state of every trade as contrasted with that of former years—it would show us in what way the home market has been affected by what we must still be allowed to term a diminution of the means of the purchaser. Surely such a subject as this is well worth the pains of inquiry. Parliament cannot be better occupied than in receiving evidence upon the condition of the people. And we cannot rate too highly, either for the present or the future, the importance of such an investigation in checking and correcting, or, it may be, in confirming the doctrines of political economy, as they are usually quoted and received.