But Fox instantly opposed it with extreme vehemence, declaring that the appointment of such a committee would be a pure waste of time. It was notorious, he affirmed, that no precedent existed which could have any bearing on the present case, since there was in existence a person such as had never been found on any previous occasion, an heir-apparent of full age and capacity to exercise the royal authority; and he declared it to be his deliberate opinion that the Prince of Wales had "as clear and express a right to assume the reins of government, and to exercise all the powers of sovereignty, during the illness and incapacity of the sovereign, as if that sovereign were actually deceased." Such an assertion of indefeasible right was so totally at variance with the Whig doctrines which Pitt, equally with Fox, regarded as the true principles of the constitution, that Pitt at once perceived the advantage which it gave him, by enabling him to stand forward as the supporter of the supreme authority of Parliament, which Fox had by implication denied. He instantly replied that to assert an inherent indefeasible right in the Prince of Wales, or any one else, independently of the decision of the two Houses, fell little short of treason to the constitution; but, at the same time, to prevent any one pretending to misconceive his intentions, he allowed it to be seen with sufficient plainness that, when once the right of Parliament to appoint the Regent had been established, he should agree in the propriety of conferring that office on the Prince of Wales. The committee was appointed; but, even before it could report the result of its investigations, the doctrine advanced by Fox had been the subject of discussion in the House of Lords, where Lord Camden, who had presided over the meeting of the Privy Council a few days before, on moving for the appointment of a similar committee of peers, had taken occasion to declare that, if Fox had made such an assertion as rumor imputed to him, it was one which had no foundation in "the common law of the kingdom." He had never read nor heard of such a doctrine. Its assertors might raise expectations not easily laid, and might involve the country in confusion. And he contended, as Pitt had done in the Commons, that its assertion was a strong argument in favor of the appointment of a committee, that it might be at once seen whether it were warranted by any precedent whatever. The reports of the two committees bore out Fox's statement, that no precedent entirely applicable to the case before them had ever occurred. But by this time Fox had learned that the argument which he had founded on it was in the highest degree unpalatable both to Parliament and to the nation; and for a moment he sought to modify it by an explanation that, though he had claimed for the Prince "the naked right, he had not by that expression intended to maintain that that right could be reduced into possession without the consent of Parliament;" an explanation not very reconcilable to common sense, since, if a right were inherent and indefeasible, Parliament could not, without absolute tyranny, refuse to sanction its exercise; and, in fact, his coadjutor, Sheridan, on the very same evening, re-asserted his original doctrine in, if possible, still more explicit terms, warning the minister "of the danger of provoking the Prince to assert his right," while a still greater man (Burke) declared that "the minister had taken up an attitude on the question tantamount to that of setting himself up as a competitor to the Prince." Such inconsiderate violence gave a great advantage to Pitt, one of whose most useful characteristics as a debater was a readiness and presence of mind that nothing could discompose. He repelled such menaces and imputations with an equally lofty scorn, and, after a few necessary preliminaries, brought forward a series of resolutions, one of which declared the fact of the sovereign's illness, and consequent incapacity; a second affirmed it to be the right and duty of the two Houses of Parliament to provide the means for supplying the defect in the royal authority; and a third imposed on the Houses the task of deciding on the mode in which the royal assent necessary to give their resolutions the authority of law should be signified. It was impossible to object to the first; but the second was stubbornly contested by the Opposition, the chiefs of the Coalition Ministry once more fighting side by side; though Lord North contented himself with arguing that the affirmation of the right and duty of Parliament was a needless raising of a disputable point, and moving, therefore, that the committee should report progress, as the recognized mode of shelving it. Fox, however, carried away by the heat of debate, returned to the assertion of the doctrine of absolute right, overlooking his subsequent modification of it, and again gave Pitt the advantage, by condescending to impugn his motives for proposing the resolution, as being inspired, not by a zeal for the constitution, but by a consciousness that he did not deserve the confidence of the Prince, and, therefore, anticipated his instant dismissal by the Regent. The re-affirmation of the Prince's inherent right was, indeed, necessary to Fox as the foundation for the objections which he took to other parts of Pitt's scheme. For the minister, while admitting to its full extent the irresistible claim which the Prince of Wales possessed to the preference of Parliament for the Regency, proposed at the same time to impose certain limitations on his exercise of the authority, so long as there was a reasonable hope of his royal father's recovery. He was not to have the power to create peerages, nor to alienate the property of the crown, nor to grant offices in reversion; and, as the Queen was to have the care of his Majesty's person, she also was to have the appointment of all the offices in the royal household. Fox, on the other hand, objected with extreme earnestness to the impropriety of imposing any limitations whatever on the power of the Regent; and then the question whether the Prince was to derive his right to the Regency from the authority of Parliament, or from his natural position and inalienable preceding right as his father's heir, became one of practical importance. If the Parliament had the right to confer authority, it had clearly the right to limit the authority it conferred. If the Prince had an indefeasible right to the Regency, independently of the will of Parliament, then Parliament could have no pretence to limit or restrain the exercise of an authority which in no degree flowed from itself. Fox, indeed, took another objection to the imposing of limitations to the authority to be intrusted to the Regent, contending that this would be to create a power unknown to the constitution—a person in the situation of King without regal power. But, not to mention precedents drawn from the reigns of Edward III., Richard II., and Henry VI., in the twenty-fourth year of the very last reign, George II., on the death of his son, the father of the present King, had enjoined the Parliament to provide for the government, in the case of his own death, while the heir was still a minor, recommending to them the appointment of the Princess Dowager of Wales as Regent, "with such powers and limitations as might appear expedient." And, in conformity with his desire, the Parliament had appointed the Princess Regent, with a Council of Regency to assist her; and had enacted that "several portions of the regal power" should be withheld from the Regent, if she could not obtain the consent of the Council thus appointed.[[118]]
This part of the case was so plain, that when, after the different resolutions proposed by Pitt had been adopted in both Houses, Fox insisted that, instead of proceeding by a bill to create a Regency, and to appoint the Prince of Wales Regent, the only course which could be adopted with propriety would be to present an address to the Prince, to entreat him to assume the government, he failed to induce the House to agree with him; and finally, as if he were determined to find a battle-field in every clause, he made a vigorous resistance to the expedient by which Pitt proposed that the formal royal assent which was necessary to make the bill law should be given. Fox, on one occasion, had gone the length of denying that the two Houses had any right to be regarded as a Parliament while the King, an essential part of Parliament, was incapacitated. But such an objection could have had no force, even in the mind of him who raised it, since the proceedings of the two Convention Parliaments of 1660 and 1689 labored under a similar defect; and yet their acts had been recognized as valid, and ratified by subsequent Parliaments. And now, in reference to the expedient proposed by the minister, that the two Houses should empower and authorize the Lord Chancellor to affix the Great Seal to the bill, Burke, with great, but for him not unusual, violence, denounced both the proposal and the Chancellor, declaring that such a step would be the setting up of a phantom of sovereignty, a puppet, an idol, an idiot, to which he disclaimed all allegiance. A more perilous amendment was one proposed to another clause by Mr. Rolle, enacting that if the Regent should marry a Roman Catholic his authority should cease. Since the Bill of Rights, as we have seen, forbade a sovereign to marry a Roman Catholic without incurring the forfeiture of his crown, it was evidently reasonable that the same restriction should be imposed on every Regent; but it was hard at the moment altogether to dissociate such a clause from the discussions of the preceding year; and Mr. Rolle endeavored to give the clause a more pointed meaning by an amendment to enact that the forfeiture should be incurred by the mere celebration of any marriage ceremony, whether the marriage thus performed were legal and valid or not. His amendment, however, was unanimously rejected. The bill was passed without alteration by the House of Commons; the Prince, while protesting in an elaborate and most able letter, drawn up for him by Burke, against the restrictions imposed by the bill, nevertheless consented to sacrifice his own judgment to the general good of the kingdom, and to accept the authority, limited as it was. And by the middle of February the bill was sent up to the House of Lords. There Lord Camden had charge of it, and his position as a former Chancellor gave irresistible weight to his opinion that the mode proposed to give the final sanction to the bill was strictly in accordance with the spirit and practice of the constitution. The point with which he dealt was the previous one, how Parliament, which was to pass the bill, was to be opened, for, "circumstanced as it was, Parliament could not at present take a single step." The law, as he put it, declared that the King must be present, either in person or by a representative. When he could not attend personally, the legal and constitutional process was to issue letters-patent under the Great Seal. In the present dilemma, therefore, he recommended that the two Houses should direct letters-patent to be issued under the Great Seal, authorizing commissioners to open Parliament in the name of his Majesty. He "must use the liberty to say that those who treated this proposal with ridicule were ignorant of the laws of their country. A fiction it might be termed, but it was a fiction admirably calculated to preserve the constitution, and, by adopting its forms, to preserve its substance." The authority of the Great Seal he explained to be such that, "even if the Lord Chancellor, by caprice, put it to any commission, it could not afterward be questioned;" and he adduced a precedent of a very similar character to the course now proposed, which occurred "at the commencement of the reign of Henry VI., when, the sovereign being an infant of nine months old, the Great Seal was placed in his hand, and it was supposed to be given to him by the Master of the Rolls, whereupon many commissions were sealed by it, and the government was carried on under its authority." That precedent, he reminded the peers, had been followed as recently as the year 1754, when, during an illness of George II., Lord Chancellor Hardwicke affixed the Great Seal to a commission for opening a session of Parliament. And, finally, he concluded by moving, "That it is expedient and necessary that letters-patent for opening the Parliament should pass under the Great Seal."[[119]] The motion was carried, and Parliament was opened in accordance with it; and, if it had been necessary, the same expedient would have sufficed to give the requisite assent to the Regency Bill, a necessity which was escaped by the fortunate recovery of the royal patient, which was announced by his medical advisers a day or two before that fixed for the third reading of the bill in the House of Lords.
Though the question was thus left undetermined for the moment, it was revived twenty-two years afterward, when the same sovereign was attacked by a recurrence of the same disease, and the existing ministry, then presided over by Mr. Perceval, brought forward a Regency Bill almost identical with that which on this occasion had been framed by Mr. Pitt; and the Opposition, led by Lord Grey and Sir Samuel Romilly, raised as nearly as possible the same objections to it which were now urged by Fox and his adherents. The ministerial measure was, however, again supported by considerable majorities; so that the course proposed by Mr. Pitt on this occasion may be said to have received the sanction of two Parliaments assembled and sitting under widely different circumstances; and may, therefore, be taken as having established the rule which will be adopted if such an emergency should, unfortunately, arise hereafter. And indeed, though the propriety of Pitt's proposals has, as was natural, been discussed by every historical and political writer who has dealt with the history of that time, there has been a general concurrence of opinion in favor of that statesman's measure. Lord John Russell, while giving a document, entitled "Materials for a Pamphlet," in which he recognizes the handwriting of Lord Loughborough, and which "contains the grounds of the opinion advanced by him, and adopted by Mr. Fox, that, from the moment the two Houses of Parliament declared the King unable to exercise his royal authority, a right to exercise that authority attached to the Prince of Wales," does not suppress his own opinion of the "erroneousness of this or any other doctrine that attributes to any individual or any constituted authority existing in the state a strict or legal right to claim or to dispose of the royal authority while the King is alive, but incapable of exercising it."[[120]]
The only writer, as far as I am aware, who advocates the opposite view is Lord Campbell, who, after quoting the speech of Lord Camden, from which extracts have been made, comments on it, and on the whole transaction, in the following terms: "From the course then adopted and carried through, I presume it is now to be considered part of our constitution that if ever, during the natural life of the sovereign, he is unable by mental disease personally to exercise the royal functions, the deficiency is to be supplied by the two Houses of Parliament, who, in their discretion, will probably elect the heir-apparent Regent, under such restrictions as they may please to propose, but who may prefer the head of the ruling faction, and at once vest in him all the prerogatives of the crown. On the two occasions referred to in the reign of George III., the next heir being at enmity with the King and his ministers, this was considered the loyal and courtly doctrine; and, from its apparent advancement of the rights of Parliament, there was no difficulty in casting odium on those who opposed it. But I must avow that my deliberate opinion coincides with that of Burke, Fox, and Erskine, who pronounced it to be unsupported by any precedent, and to be in accordance with the principles of the Polish, not the English, monarchy. The two Houses of Parliament would be the proper tribunal to pronounce that the sovereign is unable to act; but then, as if he were naturally as well as civilly dead, the next heir ought of right to assume the government as Regent, ever ready to lay it down on the sovereign's restoration to reason, in the same way as our Lady Victoria would have returned to a private station if, after her accession, there had appeared posthumous issue of William IV. by his queen. It is easy to point out possible abuses by the next heir as Regent, to the prejudice of the living sovereign; but there may be greater abuses of the power of election imputed to the two Houses, whereby a change of dynasty might be effected. I conceive, therefore, that the Irish Parliament[[121]] in 1789 acted more constitutionally in acknowledging the right of the next heir, in scouting the fiction of a commission or royal assent from the insane sovereign, and in addressing the Prince of Wales to take on himself the government as Regent."
Though the sneers at the possibility of Parliament preferring "the head of the ruling faction" to the heir-apparent be hardly consistent with the impartial candor which is one of the most imperative duties of an historical critic, and though the allusion to the principles of the Polish monarchy be not very intelligible, yet no one will refuse to attach due weight to the deliberate opinion of one who won for himself so high a professional reputation as Lord Campbell. But, with all respect to his legal rank, we may venture to doubt whether he has not laid down as law, speaking as a literary man and an historian, a doctrine which he would not have entertained as a judge. For, if we consider the common law of the kingdom, it is certain that, in the case of subjects, if a man becomes deranged, his next heir does not at once enter on his property "as if he were naturally as well as civilly dead." And if, as in such cases is notoriously the practice, the Court of Chancery appoints a guardian of the lunatic's property, analogy would seem to require that the Houses of Parliament, as the only body which can possibly claim authority in such a matter, should exercise a similar power in providing for the proper management of the government to that which the law court would exercise in providing for the proper management of an estate; and that, therefore, the principles of constitutional[[122]] statesmanship, which is deeply interested in upholding the predominant authority of Parliament, must justify the assertion of the ministers that the two Houses had the entire and sole right to make regulations for the government of the kingdom during the incapacity of the sovereign; and that the next heir, even when a son of full age, can have no more right to succeed to his father's royal authority in his lifetime than, if that father were a subject, he would have to succeed to his estate.
The opposite doctrine would seem to impugn the legality of the whole series of transactions which placed William and Mary on the throne. The admission of an indefeasible right of the heir-apparent would have borne a perilous resemblance to a recognition of that divine right, every pretension to which the Revolution of 1688 had extinguished. If, again, as Fox and his followers at one time endeavored to argue, the Houses in 1789 had no right to the name or power of a Parliament, because the King had no part in their meetings, the convention that sat a century before (as, indeed, was admitted) was certainly far less entitled to that name or power, for it had not only never been called into existence by a King, but was assembled in direct defiance of the King. Similarly, it is admitted that the body which invited Charles II. to return and resume his authority was equally destitute of the validity which could only be given by a royal summons. Yet both these bodies had performed actions of greater importance than that which was looked for from this Parliament. The one had abolished the existing and usurping government, and restored to his kingdom a King who had been long an exile. The other had, as it were, passed sentence on the existing sovereign, on grounds which confessedly will not bear a strict examination, and had conferred the crown on a prince who had no hereditary claim to the title. The justification of both acts was necessity. Salus regni suprema Lex. And the necessity was clearly more urgent in the present case than in either of the preceding instances. For, unless the Parliament interfered to create an authority, there was absolutely none in existence which was capable of acting. It should also be remembered that this Parliament of 1789, though not opened for the session by the King, had been originally elected in obedience to his order, and had been prorogued by his proclamation to the day of meeting;[[123]] and, though the opening of a session by a speech from the throne is the usual form for the commencement of its proceedings, it may be doubted whether it be so indispensable a part of them that none of their acts are valid without it.
The breaking out of the French Revolution, and the degree in which, in spite of all its atrocities and horrors, the revolutionary spirit for a time infected a large party in England, prevented Pitt from reviving the plan of Reform which he had framed with such care and genius for organization, and in which, though defeated in Parliament, both before and after he became minister, he had hitherto continued to cherish the hope of eventually succeeding. But when clubs and societies, where the most revolutionary and seditious doctrines were openly broached, were springing up in London and other large towns, and unscrupulous demagogues by speeches and pamphlets were busily disseminating theories which tended to the subversion of all legitimate authority, he not unnaturally thought it no longer seasonable to invite a discussion of schemes which would be supported in many quarters only, to quote his own words, "as a stepping-stone to ulterior objects, which they dared not avow till their power of carrying them into effect should be by this first acquisition secured." But the alarm which the spread of revolutionary ideas excited in his mind was displayed, not only passively in this abstention from the advocacy of measures the expediency of which must at all times in some degree depend on the tone of their introduction, but also in active measures of repression, some of which were not, indeed, unwarranted by precedent, but others of which can hardly be denied to have been serious inroads on the constitution, infringements of the freedom of opinion and discussion to which all Englishmen are entitled, and one of which was, to say the least, a very perilous extension of a law already sufficiently severe, the statute of treason. If the French had been content with the overthrow of their own government and institutions, much as we should have lamented the indiscriminate rashness and abhorred the atrocities with which their design was carried out, we should still have adhered to the unquestionable maxim, that no nation is justified in interfering in the internal affairs of another. But the Jacobin and Girondin demagogues, who had now the undisputed sway in Paris, did not limit their views to their own country, but openly declared themselves the enemies of all established governments in every country; and the Convention passed a formal resolution in which they proffered "fraternity and assistance" to every people which might be inclined to rise against their governments. Their resolutions were officially communicated to the sympathizing societies in England, and emissaries were secretly encouraged to cross the Channel in the hope of gaining converts. Nor were their exertions barren. Two men were convicted in Scotland of a plot to seize Edinburgh Castle, to massacre the garrison, to imprison the judges, and to rise in arms to compel the government to a change of policy. In London the King was fired at on his way to open Parliament, and on his return his carriage was attacked by a furious mob, and was only protected from serious injury by a troop of the Life Guards. Such outrages proved the existence of a new danger, against which no previous government had ever been called on to provide, and such as, in the opinion of the cabinet, could only be met by novel measures of precaution.
The first was directed against the foreign propagators of revolution. The resolutions of the Convention had been promulgated in November, 1792; and at the meeting of Parliament in December, Lord Grenville, as Foreign Secretary of State, introduced in the House of Lords an alien bill, to enable the government to deal in a summary manner with any foreign visitors whose conduct or character might seem to call for its interference. It provided that all foreigners who had arrived in the kingdom since the preceding January should give in a statement of their names and residences; that any one who should arrive in future should furnish an account of his name, his station in life, and his object in visiting England; that the King, by proclamation, order in Council, or sign-manual, might direct all foreigners to reside in such districts as might be thought suitable; that no one might quit the residence in which he first settled without a passport; and that the Secretary of State might order any suspected foreigner to quit the kingdom instantly.
The act was to be in operation for twelve months, and Lord Grenville, in introducing it, though he admitted it to be a measure of "rather a novel nature," explained at the same time that it was so far from being new in the powers which it gave, that Magna Charta distinctly recognized "the power and right of the crown to prevent foreigners from entering or residing within the realm." All that was really new was the defining of the manner in which that power should be exercised, since it had been so rarely needed that doubts might exist as to the proper mode of putting it in action. The bill, which was adopted in both Houses by large majorities, is remarkable, among other circumstances, from the fact that its discussion furnished the first instance of a public display of the difference between the two sections of the Opposition, subsequently described by Burke in one of his most celebrated pamphlets as the Old and New Whigs; those whom he called the Old Whigs (the Duke of Portland, Sir Gilbert Elliott, Mr. Windham, not to mention Burke himself) earnestly supporting it, while Lord Lansdowne, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Grey resisted it with equal zeal. Lord Lansdowne took the ground that it was a suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act; while Fox and Grey denounced it, in more general terms, as a measure "utterly irreconcilable with the principles of the constitution," Mr. Grey apparently referring chiefly to the power given by the bill to the Secretary of State to send any foreigners from the country, which he described as "making the bill a measure of oppression, giving power for the exercise of which no man was responsible." Sir Gilbert Elliott's answer was singularly ingenious. He did not deny that the bill conferred additional power on the crown, though not more than was justified by existing circumstances; but he maintained that the right of giving extraordinary powers to the crown on occasions was so far from being inconsistent with the principles of the constitution, that to grant extraordinary powers in extraordinary emergencies was a part of it essential to the character of a free government. If such powers were at all times possessed by the crown, its authority would be too great for a free government to co-exist with it; but if such could not be at times conferred on the crown, its authority would be too small for its own safety or that of the people.
The arguments of the ministers were, no doubt, greatly recommended, both to the Parliament and the people in general, by the notoriety of the fact that foreign agents were in many of our large towns busily, and not unsuccessfully, engaged in propagating what were known as Jacobin doctrines. But, even without that aid, it was clear that every government must, for the common good of all, be at times of extraordinary emergency invested with the power of suspending laws made for ordinary circumstances. And what would be an intolerable evil, if the supreme magistrate took upon himself to exercise it, ceases to be one when the right to exercise it is conferred by the nation itself in Parliament. If the bill did, as was argued, suspend the Habeas Corpus Act, that statute had been enacted by Parliament, and therefore for Parliament, in a case of necessity, to suspend its operation was clearly within the spirit of the constitution.