ncy and universality
of which the very existence of liberty consists? Till lately, I think it
has been allowed, that one of those reforms most favourable to
democracy, was an abridgment of the duration of parliaments. But if a
general abridgment be so desirable, must not every particular abridgment
have its value too? Shall the one be acknowledged of a salutary, and yet
the other be declared of a pernicious tendency? Is it possible that the
nature of a part, and of the whole, can be not only dissimilar, but
opposite? But I will quit these general and accurate reasonings. It is
not in them that our strength lies.

They tell us, that the measure of a dissolution is an unpopular one. My
lord, it is not so, that you and I are to be taken in. Picture to
yourself the very kennels flowing with rivers of beer. Imagine the door
of every hospitable ale-house throughout the kingdom, thrown open for
the reception of the ragged and pennyless burgess. Imagine the whole
country filled with the shouts of drunkenness, and the air rent with
mingled huzzas. Represent the broken heads, and the bleeding noses, the
tattered raiment, and staggering bodies of a million of loyal voters. My
lord, will they pretend, that the measure that gives birth to this
glorious scene, is unpopular? We must be very ill versed in the science
of human nature, if we could believe them.

But a more important consideration arises. A general election would be
of little value, if by means of it a majority of representatives were
not to be gained to the aristocratical party. If I were to disadvise a
dissolution, it would be from the fear of a sinister event. It is true,
your lordship has a thousand soft blandishments. You can smile and bow
in the newest and most approved manner. But, my lord, in the midst of a
parcel of Billingsgate fishwomen, in the midst of a circle of butchers
with marrow-bones and cleavers, I am afraid these accomplishments would
be of little avail. It is he, most noble patron, who can swallow the
greatest quantity of porter, who can roar the best catch, and who is the
compleatest bruiser, that will finally carry the day. He must kiss the
frost-bitten lips of the green-grocers. He must smooth the frowzy cheeks
of chandlers-shop women. He must stroke down the infinite belly of a
Wapping landlady. I see your lordship tremble at the very catalogue.
Could you divide yourself into a thousand parts, and every part be ten
times more gigantic than the w