It is, doubtless, our duty, my lords, to guard both the rights of the people, and the prerogatives of the throne, and with equal ardour to remonstrate to his majesty the distresses of his subjects, and his own danger. We are to hold the balance of the constitution, and neither to suffer the regal power to be overborne by a torrent of popular fury, nor the people to be oppressed by an illegal exertion of authority, or the more insupportable hardships of unreasonable laws.
By this motion, my lords, the happiness of the people, and the security of his majesty, are at once consulted, nor can we suppress so general a clamour without failing equally in our duty to both.
To what, my lords, is the untimely end of so many kings and emperours to be imputed, but to the cowardice or treachery of their counsellors, of those to whom they trusted that intercourse, which is always to be preserved between a monarch and his people? Were kings honestly informed of the opinions and dispositions of their subjects, they would never, or, at least rarely, persist in such measures, as, by exasperating the people, tend necessarily to endanger themselves.
It is the happiness of a British monarch, that he has a standing and hereditary council, composed of men who do not owe their advancement to the smiles of caprice, or the intrigues of a court; who are, therefore, neither under the influence of a false gratitude, nor of a servile dependence, and who may convey to the throne the sentiments of the people, without danger, and without fear. But, my lords, if we are either too negligent, or too timorous to do our duty, how is the condition of our sovereign more safe, or more happy than that of an emperour of Turkey, who is often ignorant of any complaints made against the administration, till he hears the people thundering at the gates of his palace.
Let us, therefore, my lords, whatever may be our opinion of the conduct of the minister, inform his majesty of the discontent of his subjects, since, whether it is just or not, the danger is the same, and whenever any danger threatens the king, we ought either to enable him to oppose, or caution him to avoid it.
Lord CHOLMONDELEY spoke next, to the following effect:—My lords, I cannot but observe in this debate an ambition of popularity, in my opinion not very consistent with the freedom of debate, and the dignity of this assembly, which ought to be influenced by no other motive than the force of reason and truth.
It has been a common method of eluding the efficacy of arguments, to charge the opponent with blind adherence to interest, or corrupt compliance with the directions of a court; nor has it been less frequent to prevent inquiries into publick measures, by representing them as the clamours of faction, the murmurs of disobedience, and the prelude to rebellion.
So necessary, my lords, has it been always thought to be uninfluenced in our examinations by dependence or interest, that the most irrefragable reasons have lost the power of conviction, by the condition and characters of those by whom they were produced; and so much is it expected from innocence and justice to despise all foreign assistance, and to stand the test of inquiry without asking the support of power, that every man has been concluded guilty that has fled for shelter to the throne.
And surely, my lords, if that man's suffrage is of little weight, who appears determined to subscribe to the dictates of a minister, no greater credit can be assigned to another, who professes himself only the echo of the clamours of the populace. If it be a proof of a weak cause, and consciousness of misconduct, to apply to the crown for security and protection, it may be accounted an acknowledgment of the insufficiency of arguments, when the people is called in to second them, and they are only to expect success from the violence of multitudes.
That all government is instituted for the happiness of the people, that their interest ought to be the chief care of the legislature, that their complaints ought patiently to be heard, and their grievances speedily redressed, are truths well known, generally acknowledged, and, I hope, always predominant in the mind of every lord in this assembly. But, that the people cannot err, that the voice of fame is to be regarded as an oracle, and every murmur of discontent to be pacified by a change of measures, I have never before heard, or heard it only to disregard it.