at we should not have been troubled with any complaints on the
subject of the Representation, if the House of Commons had agreed to a
certain motion, made in the session of 1830, for inquiry into the causes
of the public distress. I remember nothing about that motion, except
that it gave rise to the dullest debate ever known; and the country, I
am firmly convinced, cared not one straw about it. But is it not strange
that men of real ability can deceive themselves so grossly, as to think
that any change in the government of a foreign nation, or the rejection
of any single motion, however popular, could all at once raise up a
great, rich, enlightened nation, against its ancient institutions? Could
such small drops have produced an overflowing, if the vessel had not
already been filled to the very brim? These explanations are incredible,
and if they were credible, would be anything but consolatory. If it were
really true that the English people had taken a sudden aversion to a
representative system which they had always loved and admired, because a
single division in Parliament had gone against their wishes, or because,
in a foreign country, in circumstances bearing not the faintest analogy
to those in which we are placed, a change of dynasty had happened, what
hope could we have for such a nation of madmen? How could we expect
that the present form of government, or any form of government, would be
durable amongst them?
Sir, the public feeling concerning Reform is of no such recent origin,
and springs from no such frivolous causes. Its first faint commencement
may be traced far, very far, back in our history. During seventy years
that feeling has had a great influence on the public mind. Through the
first thirty years of the reign of George the Third, it was gradually
increasing. The great leaders of the two parties in the State were
favourable to Reform. Plans of reform were supported by large and most
respectable minorities in the House of Commons. The French Revolution,
filling the higher and middle classes with an extreme dread of change,
and the war calling away the public attention from internal to external
politics, threw the question back; but the people never lost sight
of it. Peace came, and they were at leisure to think of domestic
improvements. Distress came, and they suspected, as was natural, that
their distress was the effect of unfaithful stewardship and unskilful
legislation. An opinion favourable to Parl
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