Mr. PITT spoke to the following purport:—Sir, it is common for those to have the greatest regard to their own interest who discover the least for that of others. I do not, therefore, despair of recalling the advocates of this bill from the prosecution of their favourite measures, by arguments of greater efficacy than those which are founded on reason and justice.
Nothing, sir, is more evident, than that some degree of reputation is absolutely necessary to men who have any concern in the administration of a government like ours; they must either secure the fidelity of their adherents by the assistance of wisdom, or of virtue; their enemies must either be awed by their honesty, or terrified by their cunning. Mere artless bribery will never gain a sufficient majority to set them entirely free from apprehensions of censure. To different tempers different motives must be applied: some, who place their felicity in being accounted wise, are in very little care to preserve the character of honesty; others may be persuaded to join in measures which they easily discover to be weak and ill-concerted, because they are convinced that the authors of them are not corrupt but mistaken, and are unwilling that any man should be punished for natural defects or casual ignorance.
I cannot say, sir, which of these motives influences the advocates for the bill before us; a bill in which such cruelties are proposed as are yet unknown among the most savage nations, such as slavery has not yet borne, or tyranny invented, such as cannot be heard without resentment, nor thought of without horrour.
It is, sir, perhaps, not unfortunate, that one more expedient has been added, rather ridiculous than shocking, and that these tyrants of the administration, who amuse themselves with oppressing their fellow-subjects, who add without reluctance one hardship to another, invade the liberty of those whom they have already overborne with taxes, first plunder and then imprison, who take all opportunities of heightening the publick distresses, and make the miseries of war the instruments of new oppressions, are too ignorant to be formidable, and owe their power not to their abilities, but to casual prosperity, or to the influence of money.
The other clauses of this bill, complicated at once with cruelty and folly, have been treated with becoming indignation; but this may be considered with less ardour of resentment, and fewer emotions of zeal, because, though, perhaps, equally iniquitous, it will do no harm; for a law that can never be executed can never be felt.
That it will consume the manufacture of paper, and swell the books of statutes, is all the good or hurt that can be hoped or feared from a law like this; a law which fixes what is in its own nature mutable, which prescribes rules to the seasons and limits to the wind. I am too well acquainted, sir, with the disposition of its two chief supporters, to mention the contempt with which this law will be treated by posterity, for they have already shown abundantly their disregard of succeeding generations; but I will remind them, that they are now venturing their whole interest at once, and hope they will recollect, before it is too late, that those who believe them to intend the happiness of their country, will never be confirmed in their opinion by open cruelty and notorious oppression; and that those who have only their own interest in view, will be afraid of adhering to those leaders, however old and practised in expedients, however strengthened by corruption, or elated with power, who have no reason to hope for success from either their virtue or abilities.
Mr. BATHURST next spoke to this effect:—Sir, the clause now under our consideration is so inconsiderately drawn up, that it is impossible to read it in the most cursory manner, without discovering the necessity of numerous amendments; no malicious subtilties or artful deductions are required in raising objections to this part of the bill, they crowd upon us without being sought, and, instead of exercising our sagacity, weary our attention.
The first errour, or rather one part of a general and complicated errour, is the computation of time, not by days, but by calendar months, which, as they are not equal one to another, may embarrass the account between the sailors and those that employ them. In all contracts of a short duration, the time is to be reckoned by weeks and days, by certain and regular periods, which has been so constantly the practice of the seafaring men, that, perhaps, many of them do not know the meaning of a calendar month: this, indeed, is a neglect of no great importance, because no man can be deprived by it of more than the wages due for the labour of a few days; but the other part of this clause is more seriously to be considered, as it threatens the sailors with greater injuries: for it is to be enacted, that all contracts made for more wages than are here allowed shall be totally void.
It cannot be denied to be possible, and in my opinion it is very likely, that many contracts will be made without the knowledge of this law, and consequently without any design of violating it; but ignorance, inevitable ignorance, though it is a valid excuse for every other man, is no plea for the unhappy sailor; he must suffer, though innocent, the penalty of a crime; must undergo danger, hardships, and labour, without a recompense, and at the end of a successful voyage, after having enriched his country by his industry, return home to a necessitous family, without being able to relieve them.
It is scarcely necessary, sir, to raise any more objections to a clause in which nothing is right; but, to show how its imperfections multiply upon the slightest consideration, I take the opportunity to observe, that there is no provision made for regulating the voyages performed in less time than a month, so that the greatest part of the abuses, which have been represented as the occasion of this clause, are yet without remedy, and only those sailors who venture far, and are exposed to the greatest dangers, are restrained from receiving an adequate reward.