wished to know whether there was any truth in the report, that the son of the chief baron of the court of exchequer in Ireland, had already been sworn into the office of chief clerk of that court, by his father?

had no objection to state, that he had reason to believe that the chief baron had so sworn in his son.

could not avoid expressing his feelings with which he thought every person must be impressed—on being apprized of this fact. The House, he thought, must feel the propriety of taking some step to mark their sense of this extraordinary proceeding on the part of the chief baron—of a common law judge.

said, there could be no doubt that the House had a right to regulate the office, in any manner they might think proper. With respect to the delay that had taken place in proposing any measure, it was occasioned by a wish to ascertain what the legal fees of the office were. Before this was fully known, it was not possible to bring forward any plan for regulating the situation.

said, that no man could feel more strongly than he did, the necessity of delay for the purpose mentioned by the right hon. gentleman. He merely rose to express his astonishment at the very extraordinary conduct of the chief baron—at the extreme readiness which he displayed to fill up this office, before any regulation of it had taken place, and absolutely swearing in his son, without any previous notice whatever.

said, it would be in the recollection of the House, that a right hon. friend of his (Mr. Tierney) had on a former night impressed on the House the necessity of economy in every department, without which it would be impossible for the country to proceed. Some doubts were then expressed, whether his Majesty's ministers attended sufficiently to this principle, and the consequence was, that a hon. gentleman opposite expressed great indignation at the suspicion which was thus thrown out. He was of opinion, that this suspicion was justly founded. The House and the country must bear in mind the expressions relative to economy, which were contained in the speech from the throne. Ministers, with the word "economy" in their mouths, but with extravagance in their hearts, had paced a falsehood in the speech of the Prince Regent. They had put a pledge of economy in his royal highness's mouth, which they afterwards deliberately falsi- fied. Under these circumstances, it was necessary that every part of the peace establishment should be scrupulously examined. With a view to this object, the hon. gentleman moved, for "An account of all offices, civil and military, under the influence of the Crown, in the island of Malta, the Ionian Islands, the Isle of France, the islands of St. Lucia, Tobago, &c. and the emoluments connected with the same; also for an account of all places, the appointment to which was vested otherwise than in the Crown, together with the salaries thereof."—Agreed to.

requested to know, whether there was any truth in the report circulated in the course of the morning, that it was the intention of the chancellor of the exchequer to withdraw his measure respecting the renewal of the property tax.

stated that this was the first time the report had reached his ears, and that it was totally without foundation.

moved, "That there be laid before this House, an account of the number of persons in the city of London assessed to the income tax, and the number of surcharges and assessments, distinguishing those for the year ending the 6th of April 1816, and those for the three quarters ending the 5th of January 1816, the number of appeals, and the number of such appeals as have been successful."

thought it an objection, that the motion did not distinguish the different shapes of the property tax. Most of the appeals for 1816 were not yet decided, and therefore could not be returned. Those up to the 5th of April last, however, might be produced, but perhaps they would not answer the object of the learned gentleman.

was aware that those difficulties existed, and had framed his motion accordingly. He only wished to know how many appeals had been successful or had failed. Those that were not yet decided would of course not be returned. He had so couched his motion as to render compliance with its request easy. He had not confined it to persons subject to the property tax for commercial income, but to all descriptions of revenue.

observed, that he had applied it to the income tax solely, while he seemed to wish to embrace the property tax.

said, that he meant the union of those two taxes. He had chosen the name as more descriptive of the whole, as it was, in fact, a; tax upon income, and not a property tax.

The motion was then agreed to.

rose, and observed, that if the information contained in the treaties which his royal highness the Prince Regent had ordered to be laid before that House was of a less complicated and extensive nature, and if the peace which had attracted the attention of parliament and the world had been less bound up and mixed with other treaties and negociations, it would have been his wish on that, as on other occasions, to leave to some other member of the House the task of moving an address to the throne upon the subject of them. He thought, however, that he should best consult the course of his public duty, and the course which would be most acceptable to the House, if, under the peculiar state of those multifarious transactions, he took upon himself the task of submitting the question, in such a way as would be best calculated to bring it under the view of parliament. There were certainly many points of view in which those transactions might be considered; and he apprehended it would be equally unsatisfactory to any individual, or to parliament generally, to offer any opinion upon them, without receiving from some responsible member of the government, a statement of those various arguments and grounds upon which the ministers of this country had advised his royal highness to adopt that line of policy which had been pursued. That was the exclusive principle which induced him, on the present occasion, to open the discussion upon the treaties before the House; and he trusted that he should receive their indulgence in the prosecution of his task. It certainly was his anxious wish to occupy as small a portion of their time as might be compatible with a full and distinct elucidation of the complicated subjects which they had to consider; but he was sure he should very ill consult the discharge of his duty to that House, and to the country, if he were to sacrifice it to their convenience, by abstaining from that ample and complete survey of the whole matter, which alone could en- able parliament to pronounce a satisfactory and conclusive opinion. He should, therefore, endeavor to place the question before them, with those hearings, and with those explanations, which would be best calculated to accomplish that object; and he hoped, if he should omit any material point, he would be permitted to correct such error during the discussion, and to enter into such further explanations as might be necessary in support of what he had to bring forward.

Having thus stated those general principles, his next wish was, at the outset to narrow as much as possible the scope and tendency of the particular vote which he should call upon the House that night to adopt. A hon. and learned gentleman had asked on a former night, in what view it was intended by his Majesty's ministers to take the sense of parliament upon those negotiations and treaties, and he then stated what the intentions of ministers were. Conformably to those intentions, he should include in the scope of the vote that night, not only the course of arrangements which took place at the Congress of Vienna, but also the whole course of measures which led to the commencement, the prosecution, and the conclusion of the war, as well as the subsequent negotiations of Paris. Though, however, the treaty of congress would thus be included in the vote, it would not prevent parliament from entering upon a separate and exclusive consideration of that great measure. He had no wish to abridge or narrow the discussions upon that subject. Certainly, if this country and Europe had never had the misfortune of being involved in the war excited last year by the usurpation of Buonaparté, he should not have conceived himself called upon, according to his conception of his duty, to submit any motion to parliament respecting the negotiations at Vienna. Whatever degree of merit or demerit attached to the proceedings of that congress in the opinion of others, he, for his own part, should always be disposed to consider them as wise and salutary measures, taken in pursuance of the treaty concluded at Paris in May, 1814. In the general course of parliamentary practice, it never, he believed, occurred, that government having submitted to parliament a preliminary arrangement, and parliament having pronounced a favorable decision, they afterwards took the sense of parliament again upon any definitive engagements which grew out of those preliminary ones. As an instance, he would remind the House of what took place at the peace of Amiens in 1801. The preliminary treaty was submitted to parliament, and approved of; and Lord Cornwallis negotiated the definitive treaty upon its basis. The then chancellor of the exchequer, now lord Sidmouth, laid that definitive treaty upon the table of the House, but observed, that as it was only the conclusion of those stipulations recognized in the preliminary one, to which the concurrence of parliament had been already expressed, he did not mean to take the sense of the House upon it. Afterwards, indeed, Mr. Windham, for reasons which he stated brought that definitive treaty under the consideration of the House, in reference to some particular provisions contained in it. He only meant, by citing that example, to show that it was not the customary practice to call the attention of parliament to any definitive arrangements, concluded merely in execution of preliminary ones, already sanctioned by its approbation. He, therefore, wished to have it distinctly understood, that the proceedings of the congress at Vienna were only a definitive arrangement of the treaty of peace concluded at Paris in May, 1814.

The House would permit him to observe, that in not taking its sense as to the measures adopted by the congress, he did not wish to embarrass its independence, or to consider any honourable member as pledged to give to the treaty of Vienna any countenance or approbation beyond what it might be supposed to deserve as completing the arrangements comprehended in the treaty of May, 1814. The House would recollect, that the same technical distinction was observed upon the renewal of the war in March, 1815. When they were called upon to support that war, it was not understood that by so doing they supported any of the principles developed in the congress, or that by voting for the address which was carried to the foot of the throne on that occasion, they necessarily stood bound to approve of the treaty of congress. That subject was still left open to be examined, in any way parliament might think fit. In like manner, though the House would be called upon to express an opinion upon the general scope of the negotiations, which terminated with those concluded at Paris last year, it would not be expected that, by so doing, they should be bound to approve of all that was done at Vienna. But, in a complicated and extensive question like the presents, it was necessary to start from some great and distinguished point, and none was so obvious and so natural as the Congress at Vienna, which might be considered as an arrangement in which all the powers of Europe had unanimously concurred, and as one upon which the present system of European affairs was established. He was sure the House would feel upon this, as upon all great transactions, the necessity of fixing upon some acknowledged basis as the ground-work of general proceedings. In former times it was usual, when concluding any particular treaty, to recite the provisions of former treaties, such as that of Westphalia, Utrecht, Aix-la-Chapelle, or the treaty of Paris in 1763. The congress at Vienna was now the great point of diplomatic reference; and he wished, in the largest sense of the word, to leave the House perfectly free in their judgment upon that measure. It could not, however, be expected, that any other basis should have been adopted for the negotiations at Paris last year, than that of the congress; for even those who might not wholly approve of all that was done at that congress, would scarcely desire that we should have re-negociated at Paris, all that was settled at Vienna.

Having made these preliminary observations, he should next wish to direct the attention of the House, before entering upon the general consideration of the whole subject, to that course of policy which had guided the councils of the Prince Regent both with regard to the military and pecuniary transactions of the preceding year. He meant in a diplomatic sense alone, for he was quite satisfied, that no difference of opinion, existed as to the military glory resulting from the confederacy, or the eminent success which attended all its operations. He conceived that his Majesty's government owed to the House some explanation of the system of policy upon which it had acted. From the very nature of the war, and the character of the enemy with whom they had to contend, the contest was one of that description in which all restricted efforts would have been equally unwise, whether with respect to a sound policy or to economy. Marty honourable gentlemen had formed an erroneous opinion of that con- test, as if the mass of the French nation were embarked in the cause of Buonaparté but though that view was erroneous, one general and unanimous feeling pervaded Europe, that it would prove one of the most arduous contests in which the alliance had ever engaged. Whatever doubts existed as to the desperate character of the struggle, they only constituted an additional reason why the government, in any arrangements it might make for carrying on the war, should make them upon the largest and most comprehensive scale. The country certainly was not in a condition to be able to afford the expenses of a protracted war, and therefore it became the wish of government to make the confederacy as comprehensive as possible, not only with respect to the powers included in it, but as to the efforts which each was likely to bring into the field. With that view of the contest, it would have been most unwise to have starved it in any of its parts, or to have abstained from throwing into the alliance all that vigor and energy of exertion, which the liberality of the House had enabled ministers to produce.

The House would see upon examining the great mass of treaties before it, the extent to which all Europe combined. With the exception of Sweden, who was by no means indisposed to unite with the other powers, but who was prevented from so doing by motives of economy, which the other members of the alliance allowed to be a sufficient ground of exemption, there was not a single power on the East of France who was not comprehended in the general league. On the other side of France, also, although Portugal was prevented from immediately joining in alliance, on account of the distance of the Prince Regent from his dominions, there was no power except Spain who was not bound up in that confederacy. The reason why the name of that power was not found affixed to the treaty of the 25th of March (respecting which a question had been asked by an hon. member on a preceding evening) was, because she objected to the form of that instrument, and from a point of etiquette. Not being one of the four principal powers who signed the Declaration of the 13th of March, she declined, from a dignity of feeling, which perhaps ought not to have operated at that moment, to become an acceding party to the treaty of the 25th of March. But, at the same time, she rea- dily made an offer of her assistance to the full extent of her means. With respect to the amount of subsidies which had been paid, he trusted government had pursued that course of policy which essentially contributed to the consolidation of that vast force which was arrayed against France. The general mass of the subsidies paid to the four great powers, as well as to those who afterwards acceded to the alliance, amounted originally to five millions. We, on our part, stipulated to bring into the field 150,000 men, or to pay au equivalent in money equal to the amount or force not actually supplied. During the course of the war, we have kept up, including the Hanoverians, and the corps in Italy and Flanders, between eighty and ninety thousand men, so that we had to pay, in money, for a proportion of troops amounting to about sixty thousand men. The powers of Europe were agreed in opinion, that that sum had better be employed towards the general system of alliance, by subsidizing all the minor powers. The king of the Netherlands received no subsidy, for reasons which were sufficiently obvious, nor did the troops of Switzerland receive any, because they were not actively employed against France. The general rate of subsidy was upon the calculation of eleven pounds two shillings per man. The fourth of the whole subsidies was saved, and the gross amount. Of them did not exceed six millions.

The House had seen what the effect of that policy was. It had contributed to unite and consolidate a confederacy so immense, that no extent of disaster could have altered the ultimate issue of the campaign, though certainly it might have been protracted. Even if the battle of Waterloo had been as fatal and disastrous to the allied troops, as it proved to the army of France, yet the means which were brought into active operation were so prodigious and so powerful, that the final result of the contest would unquestionably have been the same. It was a general impression felt by every member of the alliance, that no delay should take place which might be avoided. Delay would have given to the character of the war a feature of aggravation and difficulty, which was most anxiously to be deprecated. It was in fact, of the last importance, not only that the success should be early, and that it should be decisive, but that Europe in the prosecution of that great cause, which was the cause of Europe against usurpation and an attempt to renew military despotism, should act with that strength, power, and unity, which might undeceive the French nation upon a point in which their national re vanity was most likely to delude them. Whatever might have been the success of did the campaign, if they could flatter themselves that it arose out of any particular concurrence of circumstances, and not of from the magnitude and controlling force of the powers assembled against them, there would still have existed a disposition, connected with that national pride which belongs to them, to indulge in those military feelings which never can be compatible with the general repose of Europe. But certainly the character of the battle of Waterloo, together with the arrangements consequent upon that battle, would leave no ground to question what were the motives that brought the whole of Europe against them. It was of great importance to teach France that lesson of wisdom, and there was no Frenchman now who could have a doubt upon the subject. In the last campaign, at the battle of Waterloo, they had had an opportunity of trying their military skill in its highest perfection, against that of England and Prussia, assisted by the troops of some of the minor states. There never was an army which took the field more I ample in all the resources and equipments which could give vigor and efficiency; there never was an army which went to battle with a Lore desperate determination to conquer or to die, than that which Buonaparté led to the frontiers of the Netherlands; and yet, he apprehended, there was no instance in the annals of war (speaking it without any derogation, from the prowess or skill displayed by the French on that memorable day), that could be compared to the manner in which the army of the duke of Wellington, aided by that of Prince Blucher, defeated that army, with such a character of success as could not be found in the most brilliant victories upon record, in any age or country. He should be glad to know what single victory ever led to results as vast and important in a political and military point of view as the battle of Waterloo. The enemy, by that one victory, was absolutely precluded from again appearing in the field, while the victors approached, in a triumphant march of fourteen days, to the capital of the enemy which they reduced to submission. That battle decided the character of the war, and the fate of the government, and compelled the individual by whose lawless aggression it had been excited, to seek a refuge from destruction in the very country which he had designated to ruin. He did not think that he indulged in any excess of national exultation, when he thus described the unparalleled character of the battle of Waterloo.

Having stated these grounds of the policy upon which his majesty's government proceeded, the noble lord trusted the House would feel upon that branch of the question little or no difficulty in coming, to such an opinion, as would enable them to go to the foot of the throne with an unanimous expression of sentiment. There never, perhaps, existed an instance of a confederacy to such an extent of military strength combined with so much military order. It appeared, from the circumstance of a return which was made of the effective force, in consequence of an arrangement made with the French government who were to furnish the necessary equipments and clothing, that there was actually an allied force, concentrated within the territory of France, lifter the battle of Waterloo, amounting to 1,240,000 men. He could assure the House, that the numbers were not overrated, for the returns were most scrupulously checked by the duke of Wellington, who was appointed to conduct the arrangements in question. In addition, however, to that force there was also in movement against France different corps of large magnitude. There were 100,000 Austrians marching towards the Rhine, and 150,000 Russians, the head of which column was already advanced beyond the Elbe in Franconia. There was a point to which he wished to allude, while mentioning the co-operation of the latter power; and he was the more bound to mention it in honour of that power, because there seemed to exist a disposition on the part of this country to view its general character and proceedings with jealousy. For his own part, he certainly saw nothing which could justify that jealousy; on the contrary, in some points of policy which were almost cardinal in the system of Russia, he had observed a strong disposition to consult and promote the interests of Great Britain. The conduct of Russia, with regard to the Ionian islands for instance, was an instance of that disposition which he had mentioned. He could not indeed, but consider it as an unfair degree of jealousy which we attached to that power, because of its vast resources, its numerous population, and its extensive territory, as if therefore it was necessarily disposed to play a game of ambition, which threatened the permanent interests and security of Europe. It became him, however, to pay a fair tribute of acknowledgment to the eminent services which it performed towards promoting the general objects of, the confederacy. Eye the stipulations of the treaty of the 25th of March; she was under no further obligation than that of bringing into the field 160,000 men, a number which the emperor in the first instance increased, and ultimately augmented to not less than 260,000. The duke of Wellington saw 160,000 Russians reviewed in the plains of Versus, all under arms; and his grace declared that he had never seen an army better equipped, more perfect in discipline, or exhibiting altogether a more martial and soldier-like appearance. It was his duty to state that that increased and most important force was brought into active service by the emperor of Russia without even an attempt on the part of this country or that of his Imperial Majesty, to establish any pecuniary negotiation. He had actually put 100,000 men in motion, and they were considerably on the advance towards the French frontier before any arrangements were made to give him that subsidiary assistance which had already been bestowed upon the lowest of the Liner powers embarked in the general confederacy. Ilea must say, therefore, that it was not good policy to anticipate imaginary dangers from the military strength and resources of Russia, when they had hitherto been employed only in the public cause of Europe. It was not wise to provoke the suspicions of that power by such imputations upon its views.

With respect to the combined efforts made by all the members of the alliance, he should not overstate them when he said, that if the war had continued two months longer, there would have been a million and a half of soldiers in France to carry on the contest. So large a host, composed of the military of various nations, might be supposed to have a tendency to produce those evils inseparably attendant upon the movements of hostile armies but it was not among the least of the objects which occupied the attention of the allied sovereigns to introduce into their corps a strict and rigorous discipline, which might restrain all excesses. It was impossible, perhaps, to do that in the early stage of the transaction, in such a way as should prevent all just grounds of complaint in the districts where they happened to be; but even in those districts the evils complained of arose principally from the circumstance that the peasantry were alarmed at their approach, and did not remain in their houses to administer those supplies which were required. After some time, however, a degree of order was introduced, no less creditable to the armies themselves than to the lasped times in which we live. There was no instance in history of ten or eleven hundred thousand men being thrown into a country as they were in France, living at the expense of that country, and yet without any marked instance of indiscipline occurring; on the contrary, though there existed many powerful feelings of resentment in some of the troops, arising out of the circumstances under which the spoliations and subjugations of France throughout Europe had been carried on, a general spirit of benevolence and clemency animated the whole confederacy towards their vanquished enemy.

Not, however, to detain the House longer with that subject, he wished to draw their attention more pointedly to that particular point on which, he apprehended, whatever difference of opinion might arise, it would be found principally to turn. In adverting to the line of policy which was pursued, it was necessary he should observe, that a great distinction existed between the peace of the preceding year, and that which was afterwards. Concluded. For his own part, he should never forget the generous and disinter; bested conduct of the allies towards France: in the year 1814, though, perhaps, if looked at in conjunction with the events; that afterwards occurred, it might be, wished that it had never been adopted. But what human transaction would bear to be so considered, or would endure the applications of after currencies in determining its abstract wisdom or prudence? If the allies, when they conquered the peace of 1814, when the French nation seemed ready to leap into their arms, and into the arms of their legitimate king; when only one strong and electric feeling appeared to be entertained throughout the whole country, a feeling of joy and gratitude at being delivered from their tyrant;

if at that moment they had refused to meet the general enthusiasm of the nation, and pursued a stern and angry policy; if they had carried on the war with the determination of destroying Buonaparté and his adherents, instead of accepting his submission and permitting his departure, he was confident they would have been accused of interested and narrow views of policy, and of having clouded that horizon which looked so calm and beautiful to all who observed it. It was, on the contrary, mad always ought to be, the chief policy of a great confederacy to act upon large and liberal principles in every part of its career, and upon those principles in the most extensive sense of the word, the confederacy of last year unquestionably acted. If indeed, every member composing that confederacy had not so acted, the very elements of which the confederacy consisted were of such a character, that hardly any attempt at violence, or any effort at spoliation, could have been made which would not have found, in the principles that bound them all together, its own corrective and remedy. It was a confederacy formed to resist oppression, and not to inflict it. That was its true and legitimate character, and never was its character shown in a more imposing point of view than in the campaign of 1814. After such a war as was then waged against France, they retired from her territory without claiming any other tribute or reward than that peace which appeared to leave France happier, and Europe more secure than they had been for a long series of years. If the allies had pursued a more doubtful course of policy, if they had adopted towards France or Buonaparté a course of measures partaking of more severity and rigor, perhaps the consequence would have been to involve that country and the confederates in a protracted and intestine warfare. It was obvious, however, that whatever motives of wisdom or discretion dictated that forbearance and generosity in 1814, it would have been childishness in the extreme, if at the close of the last campaign, they had indulged in the same feelings to the same extent, and not have founded the peace upon fundamental principles, more calculated to correct any new mischief's that might arise.

In examining that question in a diplomatic point of view, he wished first (assuming it as a wise and necessary plan to adopt some principle of precaution, be- cause it had been contended by an hon. and learned gentleman on a former evening, that we had no right to form any system of precautionary measures that interfered with the internal affairs of France, a position which he should argue afterwards), to examine the two modes in which the principle could be applied. First the general principle, and the general ground of political necessity, upon which interference could be justified; and secondly, a more partial view of the particular situation in which the allies stood with respect to France. He was the more anxious to meet that branch of the discussion fairly, because it was one which had been much pressed by the hon. gentleman on the other side of the House. A reference had been made on a former evening to a letter written by lord Clan arty, from a single sentence of which it was attempted to be adduced, that we entered upon the late war for the single and exclusive object of deposing Buonaparté, and, that provided he did not reign, it would be a matter of perfect indifference to us who was at the head of the French government. He apprehended, however, if the hon. and learned gentleman, who referred to that dispatch of lord Clanarty,^* had read the sentence which he quoted in connation with the next sentence, he would have found the principle distinctly avowed, that though we never declared the object of the war to be for the purpose of imposing on France any form of government, or that the restoration of the Bourbons was the sine quâ non upon which we were prepared to treat for peace: yet other views entered into our calculations, if they could be accomplished by just and lawful means. We certainly objected to Buonaparté as the sovereign of France; but did it therefore follow that we had no choice as to who might be sovereign, or that we were so blind as not to prefer the establishment of a government in the person of that individual with whom relations of amity could be most securely maintained, to the erection of any other government, at the head of which perhaps might be placed a person growing out of that military system, to abate the nuisance of which had been the primary objects of the alliance? The noble lord denied that there was any thing in the letter of Lord Clan arty which gave even a shadow of authority for such a construction to be put upon it: and he would refer the House to the declaration made by his majesty's government, in the ratification of the treaty of the 25th of March. Although it was declared in that treaty, that the deposition of Buonaparté, and the exclusion of his dynasty were the specific objects of the confederacy, and it was admitted that the restoration of the legitimate sovereign, Louis 18 was a point most desirable to be accomplished by any justifiable means, we guarded expressly against being understood as pledged to bring about that restoration. He begged the House would distinctly understand the grounds upon which that declaration went. It was not that we were indifferent as to who should be sovereign, provided Buonapart6 was excluded, but that we should not bind ourselves to support any particular person in obtaining the throne of France. A strong preference undoubtedly existed in the councils of all the allies in favor of Louis 18, not merely from personal considerations, but urn political grounds; and in affording legitimate assistance towards his restoration, this country and Europe in general, would be securing their own permanent interests and tranquility. In all the state documents of that period, if they were collated he would venture to say, that they would all present one general and identified course of principles upon that subject. Above all, it was least probable that lord Clan arty, in a letter dated the 6th of May, should drift into it a doctrine expressly contrary to those principles; because, not only his perspicuity of mind and general soundness of reasoning, would have prevented such an anomaly, but, in point of fact, his letter was only an explanatory dispatch, growing out of the treaty of the 25th of March. He would rest the question therefore upon the whole of those documents, the declaration issued at Vienna on the 13th of March, the treaty signed on the 25th of March, and the declaration issued at home on the 13th of April, when we ratified that treaty.

^* See Vol. 31, p. 311.

He would now proceed to consider the general principle asserted the other evening by a hon. and taught gentleman that no country had a right to interfere in the internal government of another country. If the hon. and learned gentleman intended merely to support the abstract principle, that all wanton interference of such a nature was unjustifiable, he perfectly coincided with him. But, on the other hand, if the hon. and learned gentleman contended, either on general reasoning or on the political practice of nations, that any country was tied up from interfering in the state of a foreign country when that state had an influence on its own interests and its own security, he (lord C.) denied the validity of such argument. If it were admitted, it would indeed open the door to the greatest dangers. It had always been the recognized usage of nations, that any great principle affecting not only one country but other countries was the legitimate object of foreign interference; and in no case had this principle been more distinctly allowed than in questions of succession. Let the House reflect on what had been the former practice of this country on the subject. In order to satisfy the honourable gentlemen opposite he would adduce Whig authority to show that this principle of foreign interference had been decidedly recognized in this country; and he should be happy if, by so doing, he could persuade the whigs of modern times to abate the violence of their hostility to any such transaction, and induce them to return to the better opinion of their ancestors. If he wanted a precedent which more strongly than another established this fact, he would refer to that most pure period of Whig ascendancy in politics 1717, when the triple alliance was formed. This was a more pregnant precedent than perhaps the honourable gentlemen were at first aware of. The objects of those treaties were to establish and maintain the Protestant succession within these realms, and the succession to the throne of France and Spain as established at the peace of Utrecht. Those two great objects were as important in those days, as the destruction of Jacobinism in general, and of military Jacobinism in particular were in ours. By the 7th article of the treaty of the triple alliance it was stipulated, "that if the kingdoms, countries, or provinces of any of the allies are disturbed by intestine quarrels, or by rebellions, on account of the said successions, or under any other pretext whatever, the ally thus in trouble shall have full right to demand of his allies the succors above mentioned." By the 4th article of the treaty of the quadruple alliance the contracting parties bound themselves to succor each other against all attempts to disturb the established succession. An additional proof of the force of this principle would be found in the conduct of the whigs after the Revolution, who made two treaties with the states-general to support the succession to the throne of England, not only against foreign states, but against internal opposition. Whatever might be thought of the great advantage which this country had unquestionably obtained by the Revolution, it ought to be observed, that if the modern notion of a numerical superiority of a people having the right to influence the choice of a government had existed in those days, it would have been a very difficulty matter for the statesmen of the time to ascertain on which side the numerical superiority actually lay.

Repeating, that he did not bring any precedent from a tory administration, but, on the contrary, from the purest whig ministry, the noble lord reverted to the treaty of 1709, and read the article in which the states-general promised to assist the succession established by law in England, to take possession of the throne, if not already obtained, or to oppose those who wished to disturb that succession, if actually in possession. The Whigs, therefore, did not think it necessary, that a monarch should be so de, facto, as well as de jure, in order to entitle his claim to support from foreign interference. In the treaty concluded at Utrecht, in 1713, between the same parties was an article of a similar spirit. All this was pretty sufficient proof of the opinion of the ancient whigs on this subject. [Hear, hear! from the opposition benches.] He thought the principle had been denied by the honourable gentlemen opposite. He should be happy if it were not so; for although there would still remain pretty strong marks distinction between the ancient and modern whigs, he should be glad to see the honourable gentlemen recall this principle, at least of their progenitors. As it was, the modern Whigs denied the right of interfering with the internal government of a country, with this exception—that they allowed to a people, that which they refused to a state. The modern whigs always thought that innoxious, or even useful, which was done in that way by an in individual, or by clubs or societies, with a view to advance what they chose to call moral influence in the world. But if a state ventured to interfere on the brood ground of public security, and on the danger of threatening other countries in the establishment of a dynasty, such interference was at once pronounced to be contrary to all the rights of independent countries, and destructive of the interests of mankind. What was done by a single discontented man was within the pale of modern haggis; what was done by a government was without it. He should be glad to find that night, that whatever might be the opinion of the wings out of doors, on the interference in a case of general danger with the internal state of a foreign country, the Whigs within doors would declare their approbation of it. His Majesty's government had acted on the principles of the Whigs of the Revolution; he supposed, that the honourable gentlemen opposite would not allow him to call those Whigs their illustrious allies, but they had certainly followed in their wake, and pursued their system of policy.

As an advance to an exposition of the precise diplomatic relations that existed at present in Europe, he would proceed to consider the course which had been pursued by the allied powers. And first, he wished to purge the conduct of the allies from the imputation which by some (for extreme views on all sides would no doubt be entertained) might be cast on them, of pushing the object of the safety of Europe too far, and of sacrificing to it the interests and character of the French people and the French monarch. As some would contend that enough had not been done, others would, no doubt, be as well prepared to maintain that too much had been done, and that the allies ought to have adhered to the terms of the treaty of Paris. This was certainly a subject open to argument. If the stipulation alone of the treaty of the 25th of March were considered, it might appear, as the king of France was invited to accede to it, that he ought to have been protected against any evil effects of the irruption into his dominions. Certainly, if Louis 18 had remained in France, and de facto had been able by his own power and authority to expel the invader, then the allies would have been bound to execute the treaty of Paris in all its provisions. He would go further: even if after the king had been driven out of France by his rebellious subjects, or rather by his rebellious army, (for his subjects in general, he believed, were never rebellious); if after he had ceased de facto to be king, it would have laid on the good faith of the confederate powers, in the event of his majesty having been restored by the act of his own subjects, in the event of the nation's having risen against Buonaparté and his army, in imi- tation of the energetic example of the Dutch, and having replaced Louis on the throne, strictly to adhere to the conditions of the treaty of Paris, and to the subsequent arrangements Lade at Vienna. But the case that occurred was widely distinguishable from that which he had just imagined. The king left France. He ceased to exercise the authority of government. The French nation was so supine, so unmindful of their true interests, as to sublet to have a constitution imposed on them under the semblance of election, and to allow an unfaithful army to wield all the military strength of the country against the allied powers. Even the royalists of La Vendèe retired from the contest in favor of their sovereign. Here was a case not in the contemplation of the treaty of the 25th of March; and although the allies were disposed to act liberally and honourably towards Louis 18, they were entitled, and indeed it was imposed upon them by their duty to their respective people, to adopt precautionary measures, and to require from the French king and from the French nation both, some satisfaction in mitigation of the charges to which they had been rendered liable, and some security against the recurrence of similar evils. As to the treaty of the 26th of March, technically speaking, the king of France was no party to it. At the time it was concluded by the four allied powers, it was not known that his majesty had left Paris. It was true, that the French minister signified the royal accession, but nevertheless, in point of fact, there had been no actual accession on the part of France to the treaty. Looking, therefore, simply at the diplomatic law, there was nothing which precluded the allies from taking such a view of their policy as the new circumstances appeared to require. But, nevertheless, be protested against its being inferred, that the allied powers imagined they stood either in justice or in policy in the same situation in which they would have been, had no engagement whatever with the king of France taken place, and that they therefore supposed themselves warranted in abstaining from all indulgence. Enough of the original character of the alliance remained to prevent this. All the parties concerned were contending for the same cause; namely, to relieve Europe from the military domination of France. This imposed on the allies an equity towards Louis the 18th; a disposition not to carry the principle of indem- nity and security beyond the strict necessity of the case; but to endeavor to combine the general interests of the king of France and the French nation with those measures of precaution which were indispensable for the safety of Europe.

In considering the course of policy which had been adopted by the allies, therefore, it became necessary to look at the elements of which France was corn., posed; for on that view alone could the arrangements which had been concluded be pronounced wise or otherwise. The French nation was separable into three great fundamental divisions. In the first place, the allies had to consider what course of policy was due to the king as a sovereign, having long suffered by the events of the revolution, and having invested ratably manifested a spirit of conciliation, eminently calculated, as far as his majesty's power extended, to secure the best hopes and wishes of Europe. Secondly, they had to look at the collected Lass of the nation which, although some Liner parts of it had lent themselves to the usurpation of Buonaparté, as a whole had maintained its loyalty and good disposition. Thirdly, they had to comprehend in their deliberations that branch of the French system which had invariably shown itself hostile to the repose of Europe, without the utter subduing of which any prospect of peace with France, either under Louis or any other dynasty must prove illusory and transient. They felt that if the army of France, organized as it was on the principles of military Jacobinism, was still permitted, as in recent times it had constantly been permitted, to hold its ascendancy over the people, and to Maintain its influence in the councils of that nation, nothing was gained for the tranquility of Europe; but that the French government, of whomsoever composed, must continue to be impelled by its impetuous and unprincipled dictates. The allies were satisfied, that if the war should not prove fatal to that body, though peace might be restored, yet that it would be restored only for a short period, and would presently terminate in a renewal of hostilities.

He would not call for the approbation of that House of the course which had been pursued, if he was not prepared therefore to avow, that the allies made the dissolution and extinction of that army the main object of their policy. Many of them had fallen in the field by the bravery and skill with which they had been en- countered. But after that signal defeat of the French army, the allies would have been justly chargeable with their resurrection, if they had not followed up the blow, and extinguished, as far as it was possible, the power so dangerous to all Still, however, it was necessary to be vigilant. If the governments of Europe were to allow themselves to be lulled into security by supposing that the French army had ceased to exist because it had ceased to appear on the parade, they would soon witness a revival of that scourge which had so long desolated the world. He had no hesitation therefore, nay; he prided himself in avowing that it was distinctly declared to Louis 18, that if he did not dissolve the French army, the allies must charge themselves with that indispensable task. In order to give effect to this representation, 300,000 men were assembled on the Loire with the intention of denouncing the armistice on a particular day, if arrangements were not made by the local authorities of France to dissolve that army, the existence of which was incompatible with the general repose. Under these circumstances, he put it to the feelings of every Englishman, whether our further interference was not only natural and just, but whether it was not imperiously demanded by the state in which this requisition left the king. What right had we to call in the king to dissolve what was called the royal army, if after having done so, we meant to leave him to their mercy? Were we not bound to defend him from them in their disbanded as well as in their collected state—in their character of conspirators as well as in their character of soldiers? He, for one, had never been disposed to depreciate the abilities of Buonaparté; but the comparison of the danger arising to society from the talents of that individual, and from the disposition of the French army itself, was as the comparison between a drop of water and the sea. If the moral, or rather the immoral, principle woven into the constitution of the French army, had been suffered to exist, the confinement of Buonaparté in the place to which he had been sent was almost an unimportant consideration, for such an army would not find it difficult to discover some man capable of leading it with courage and ability. The simple question for the allies to consider was, whether moral and civil principles should govern the world, or whether it should be ruled by a military despotism, interweaving itself by degrees into all the states of Europe. Let those who were for pushing to an extreme the opinion of popular authority, reflect on what this military despotism had been founded. It had grown out of that state of social disorganization which modern philosophy and modern Haggis tended to produce. It had been the sad refuge from the evils of anarchy. Fortunately, the rashness and intemperance by which it was characterized had prevented its perpetuation. Every effort to that effect, however, had been made by its great leader. In France, under Buonaparté, every thing had been rendered subordinate to the army. One of the last acts of Buonaparté was to call on the prefects of France to deliver to him descriptive lists of the females, their property, &c. in their respective districts, evidently intending to sacrifice them to the lust and rapacity of that army with which, operated upon by so powerful a stimulus, he vainly hoped to maintain himself on the throne of France, and to carry desolation in to the surrounding states.

So far was the interference of the allied powers to put down the French army from being unpopular in France, that he had never talked with a single well-informed man in that country who had not spoken of the tyranny of the military despotism as that from which it was desirable to escape. Even those who had run through the whole course of the revolution denounced the military system as a monster in government, which triumphed over the law, and which rendered the state a mere instrument for the gratification of its own detestable wishes. Not only were the steps taken by the allies to guard against the return of this military despotism gratefully acknowledged in France, but a strong and very general solicitude was shown that they would take into their protection the civil constitution of that country—a step which, according to the established relation between nations, it was impossible to take. With respect to the great body of the French nation, whatever levity they might have exhibited, with whatever facility they might have lent themselves to different usurpations, it was the anxious desire of the allied powers not to pursue towards them a resentful or revengeful policy, but if passable to combine the system of security for Europe with such acts as would mark this great distinguishing character of their proceedings, namely, that their hostility was di- rected not against France as a nation, not against France in a royal sense, but against France in a revolutionary sense, and most especially against France as the concentration of military Jacobinism. Nor did the allies proceed on this principle alone. They acted on a very broad policy. If they had spoiled the game which they had been playing by mixing it up with any ordinary question between state and state—if instead of endeavoring to reinsure France in the pale of social nations, they had attempted to degrade her, they would have combined all France against them, instead of having the great mass of the people on their side.

There were some people who might have supposed that this was a favorable moment far depriving France of the encroachments which she had made under Louis 14, and for making her return to her old limits. But however specious this supposition, the reasoning on which it was founded appeared to him to be extremely fallacious. If France had grown since the period alluded to, other states had also risen. The power of the British empire, for instance, had increased so much of late years, as to render the redaction of the power of France less necessary. The power of Russia, also, had increased so much, that with every confidence in its moderate exercise, it rendered impolitic a reduction of that of France. And above all, nothing could have been more fatal to the policy and object of the great confederacy, which was to keep their general principle distinct from any petty arrangement between state and state. Having embarked with every thing wise and loyal in France, against a danger common to all Europe, it would have been most injurious had they made an indirect advantage of existing circumstances, and failed to preserve to France her character as a nation. From the king to the meanest peasant in the country, not a man but would have united against them had they pursued any other policy. What the confederates were especially charged with was, to tranquillize the world—not to carve out the different states according to their own notions; which, although they might be abstractedly right, would, if indulged, lead them from that which was their great and important object.

Coming to the consideration of the subject with this view of it, various lines of policy offered themselves for their adop- tion. There was the course of calling on France for a severe contribution of money, and there was the course of calling on her for an extensive dismemberment of territory. A false impression was, he believed, very prevalent on this part of the question. It was supposed by some, that it would be wiser to have made a substantial demand on France for territory, leaving the French government in possession of all their resources; and it was imagined, that of all cessions a pecuniary cession was most revolting to the feelings of the French. He could assure the House that nothing could be less true than this proposition. With the exception of the natural repugnance which all men had to part with their money, there was hardly any indisposition in France to this measure. Indeed, the state of the French finances admitted it. Out of the nature of its situation, and the profligacy of its conduct, had grown this advantage. While all the rest of the world was straining their exertions, France had scarcely a burthen; for as soon as they had created armies they turned them loose to prey on mankind. He believed, therefore, that France was in a state of greater financial affluence than any other country in Europe; and more especially with reference to the two neighboring states, Prussia and Austria. He would take this opportunity of saying, that under the existing circumstances of those two countries, it had not been deemed prudent or wise by the British government to press the repayment of the imperial loan. They really were not in a state at present to make the exertion which that repayment would require. In the last two campaigns Prussia had expended twelve hundred millions of livers, or fifty millions sterling; and the expenses of Austria had been still greater. In consequence, the finances of those two countries had been so reduced, that had his Majesty's government insisted on the repayment of the imperial loan, they would actually have been unable to put their armies on a peace establishment, and would have been put to other inconveniences which, in every point of view, it was most desirable that we should, if possible, prevent them from enduring.

As to the cession of territory by France instead of the contribution of money, there was not a man in the kingdom from the monarch to the lowest individual, who did not entertain for such a proposition that which might justly be called national repugnance. So abhorrent was it to the feelings of the whole French people, that he really believed it would not have been in the power of the allies to persuade his most Christian majesty to accede to such a stipulation. Besides, it ought to be considered, that unless the demand of a cession of territory went far, it would be much wiser not to make it at all. On some parts of the multifarious questions before them, there had of course been strong differences of opinion among the allied powers, but on that of the cession of French territory none. They all dies, avowed the right of treating France as a conquered nation in that respect, or of dismembering it with a view to alter its military character and resources as a nation. All that they held themselves entitled to consider was the more or less—the modification of the frontier; but not one of the confederated powers imagined that it was within the functions of the confederacy to dismember France itself. It should also be considered, that what was taken from France must have been given to some other nation. There was the two-fold danger of taking down one power, and of rising up another. Unless a third or a half of her territory had been taken from France, no effect could have been produced; and did the House calculate on the wounded pride and honour that such dismemberment would necessarily excite? Where was an Englishman to be found who would not fight for any of the ancient possessions of our crown? And he must say, that he would not respect that Frenchman who did not feel that the state of his country, before the revolution, was that in which his honour was bound up, and that he could not allow that state to be diminished without degradation worse than death. He therefore begged leave to contend, that in point of justice no proceeding of dismemberment could take place, and that in point of policy the very nature of the contest, which was for. The establishment of a general principle, of security, rendered such a step unwise, and the last remedy to which Europe ought to look as a defense against the evils that surrounded her.

There was another principle of action which should not pass unnoticed. Whatever it was wise to do at all, it was important should be done, not by any particular state, but by Europe as a whole. It was highly important that Europe, in its pre- sent allied state, should act as a body; and that nothing should occur to reduce that body to its original element. If a fragment only had been taken from France, and if that fragment had been delivered over to the power to whom, from local circumstances, it would have proved the greatest advantage, the maintenance and defense of the acquisition would have necessarily devolved on that single power and that at a period of the greatest agitation and difficulty. It was a fundamental maxim of France to be involved in war with the Low Countries, and whenever this was the case, the burthen always fell upon the shoulders of this country. We had therefore taken care to secure the dominions of the king of the Netherlands as much as possible against any attack from France. By the precautionary measures, however, that were adopted, there was every reason to hope and believe that France would not make any hostile attempt. We had 150,000 of the best troops in the world, under a man who was justly and universally admitted to be the greatest general in the world; and as France had created the danger, it was but right that she should pay the price for watching over her tranquility On the whole, he had good reason to believe, that the peace would prove secure, even though some show of hostilities might be made by France in so long a space of the life of man as five years. It would by no means have been wise to have taken the line of fortresses from France, and annexed them to the countries to which they were contiguous. Such a measure would have been of no advantage to those countries; it might have been resisted by the French government, and might have created more danger of a new war, than the leaving of them in the possession of France, after the allied troops should be withdrawn. It was the general opinion in France that she had never erred more than in extending her territory. As to the territory of the king of the Netherlands, he would say, that he was stronger within his own frontiers, and by the improvement of his fortresses, than he would have been by the possession of those fortresses that might have been taken from France. The future state of Europe depended on things being permanently settled in France; and they would be so by not suffering her government to be thrown backwards and forwards as it had been. The allies had preferred the government of the king, because it seemed to offer nothing that was likely to shake the peace of Europe. It was therefore a deliberate purpose of the allies, when they concluded the treaty of the 20th of November, to do away all cause for jealousy, and they bound themselves to restore the fortresses, with the few exceptions specified in the treaty, at the end of five years. But they did not bind themselves to restore them to any but the king, or his lawful heirs and successors; so that if the present dynasty should by any means be subverted, we had not pledged ourselves to the folly and absurdity of giving them up to any person who might be at the head of the government at that time; but to look at what might take place, and judge whether it would be necessary to impose seine new restrictions. We were pledged to support the king of France, but not to support any new revolutionary government.

He was satisfied that greater securities for the durability of the peace had been obtained by the course pursued in the late negotiations, than could have been obtained if France had been pushed into concessions with a more violent hand. If the king had not re-ascended the throne on the principle that the virtual integrity of France should be preserved, he (lord Castlereagh) would have had most serious doubts of the continuance of peace. He felt that in that case it would have been much endangered by the irritated feelings of the French nation. But while due attention had been paid to this consideration; the allies had not failed to require what they thought adequate securities for the future repose of Europe. These, he trusted, it would be the opinion of the House they had obtained, when it was recollected that five fortresses of considerable local importance had been ceded by France to the king of the Netherlands, and that the destruction of one which was of some importance had been insisted upon.

Had the arrangement made for the future repose of Europe stopped here; he should have thought it incomplete. In his opinion, however, the other conditions which had been made, combined with those to which he had just referred, would place the balance of power in Europe on a better footing than it had obtained since the time of Joseph 2. France was to pay to the allies 700,000,000 of livers. Out of this sum, 300,000,000 was to be expended for the erection of strong places to defend the Low Countries, which would thus be placed in a better state than they had been in for the last fifty years; and he had no hesitation in saying, it was a much better game for England to play, to support the king of the Netherlands in his own territories, than it would be to main, tam his authority in places taken from, France, which that nation might reclaim whenever she felt her military power sufficiently revived to enable her to venture on such an undertaking. He was anxious that the question should rest on this principle, that England should rather take upon herself to defend the Netherlands than to hold the strong places taken from France, some of which it must be difficult to maintain, and some (Lisle for instance), it must be obvious to every person who looked at their military situation, would be rather an encumbrance than an advantage.

He would now say a few words on the subject of the sacrifices of a pecuniary nature imposed upon France, in satisfaction of the views of the allies. Looking at the operation which these would have upon the French government, he certainly considered that what had been done in this respect was politically the most expedient course—to neutralise in the first instance, and ultimately to remove that military spirit which had proved so fatal to the repose of Europe. If we drew from the French those resources which might sustain a military force, and apply it to the support of our own, kept there for the purposes of surveillance, we took the best means for preventing the recurrence of those evils against which it was the object of the allies to guard. This he thought the wisest policy that could be pursued to accomplishes the end in view, and that which would be the least offensive, as it would be the least injurious to France herself. This persevered in for five years, he entertained sanguine hopes would establish the tranquility of France, and with it that of the rest of Europe. But he was aware that it was common for gentlemen to say, that the contributions which had been imposed, France could not and would not pay. In answer to this he had in the first place to state, that she had already made very considerable payments, and these under circumstances of peculiar difficulty and embarrassment; in the second, he would observe, that she must pay them or become bankrupt in national credit;

and thirdly, it was to be remembered, that if she failed to do this, we should then stand in the same situation in which we had stood when in the opinion of some gentlemen we ought to have insisted upon other terms, founded upon permanent cessions of territory to be made by France.

It was now to be considered how the payments could be made by France, and what would be the effect of them on her trade and resources? In speaking of the arrangements, which had been made, he wished it to be distinctly understood, that when he spoke of them as being wise, he did not give them that character because he thought them ruinous to France. He protested against this doctrine altogether, as he was satisfied no arrangement could be wise, that carried ruin to one of the countries between which it was concluded. He believed if both parties had not an interest in carrying any treaty negotiated into effect, it must eventually fail. In mis-calculating the point on which it could be acted upon with mutual benefit, the advantages contended for on either side were lost. He believed France could pay the contributions which had been demanded, and that she intended paying them. France, he maintained, was as greatly interested in seeing that military spirit subside which had prevailed within her territories so long, as it was possible the rest of Europe could be. If at the end of five years she should find this to have been materially abated, and her civil energies increased in proportion, the change thus produced would be not less beneficial to her, than it would prove to her neighbors. The contributions demanded could be met by the revenues of that country—by the sale of crown lands, by the augmentation of the capital of her national debt; she might be enabled honourably to fulfil her engagements without bringing on the state any extraordinary calamity. France, it had been stipulated, should pay as an indemnity to the allies the sum of 700,000,000 livers (28 or 29,000,000l. sterling), but this was, comparatively speaking, a very inconsiderable payment, when put by the side of the other expenses which the late war had thrown upon her. In addition to this 29,000,000l. France had engaged to maintain an army of 150,000 men belonging to the allies for five years. The expense of each 1000 men could not be estimated at less than 1,000,000 of livers per annum; this army therefore would cost France yearly the sum of 150,000,000 livers. From this it would be seen, the sums which France would have to pay in five years, for the maintenance of this army, would be 750,000,000 of livers, making, with the 700,000,000 given to the allies as an indemnity, a total of 1,450,000,000 livers. By a convention concluded, the French government had engaged to pay 120 livers a man (about 5l.) on the whole force which had marched into France to conquer peace, and the last payment due on this account had been made. The expense of this vast force had been borne by France for five or six months, and this, added to the sums which he had already named, and other charges which had been thrown on her, brought the total expense of the invasion which she had sustained up to a sum of not less than 2,000 millions of livres—about 80,000,000l. sterling. At first many had been disposed to say that such a burthen was more than France could bear. For this idea there was no good foundation. She had already made very considerable advances, and he doubted not she would be able to pay the whole; and in doing this he believed there would be as little reason for regret on the part of France as there was on that of England; the exertions which this would call for would not destroy the resources of the country, though for a considerable period it would put it out of its power to make any great military effort.

He thought it was not necessary for him to go into any lengthened argument to induce the House to look with favor on that system which had brought the late contest to so desirable an end. The House could not feel a little astonished, when they compared the question brought before them that night, with those which they had frequently had to discuss from time to time, through many a melancholy year. When they recalled the many debates which had taken place on the evils with which this country had been menaced from the successes of France, it was a proud and gratifying reflection, that on this day they were occupied in considering how far the preservation of that nation, among the great powers of Europe, was political or just. The House would also feel it to be an auspicious circumstance, that that great alliance which had been formed by the four great powers of Europe most opposed to the politics of France, that that union of their councils which had so long been a desideratum, which so many efforts had been made to accomplish without success, and had at last been brought to bear with such happy effect, now, at the conclusion of the struggle, existed in all its former strength. He firmly believed that had the sovereigns been separated instead of being together on the field of action, the great business of the war could not have been so happily conducted to its termination. On this in a great measure he was convinced the salvation of Europe had depended. Circumstances would have occurred from day to day, which, in all probability, would have shivered the confederacy to atoms, had not the sovereigns been on the spot to meet, and by conciliating opposite interests, to overcome them.

Another grand feature in this confederacy, which must be contemplated with feelings of general satisfaction, was the spirit of moderation and temper which had distinguished it, and which, on every great question, had enabled them to carry with them the general feelings of Europe. This character, which it had so well deserved, gave the world confidence to look up to it still for protection, and discountenanced the apprehensions which had been too readily taken up by the hon. gentleman opposite, of their having it in contemplation, to make an attack on the civil or religious liberty of any country not in alliance with them. He deprecated that disposition to arraign the intentions of the allied powers, which had recently been manifested, and contended that these efforts to create au alarm, unfounded in the first instance, were likely (if any thing could be expected to produce such an effect) to originate the evil, the existence of which those to whom he referred affected to deplore. The friendly disposition of the emperor of Russia towards this country had been particularly manifested in the course which he had recently taken with respect to the Ionian Islands. This supplied a refutation of all the statements which had been circulated to awaken a jealousy against Russia on the part of this country. The noble lord said, be was not an advocate for confidence in the goodwill of any great power, so far as to dismiss vigilance on the part of ministers, but at the same time he felt it necessary to throw back the charge which had been advanced, lest it should lead to that state of things which had been (without foundation) supposed to exist. The Ionian Islands, he felt it his duty to state, had at been placed under the protection of England, in the first instance, in consequence of the great wish expressed by the inhabitants of them, that such an arrangement should be made; and next to this, they had been so placed under our protection in compliance with the desires of the emperor Russia, who had greatly exerted himself to promote this object.

The noble lord said, he wished, on this occasion, to put at issue the arrangements which had been made to close the late a war; these the House could discuss without going largely into the merits of what is had been done by the congress of Vienna, which it might be well to leave open for consideration on a future day. That on which he now called upon the House to decide, was the question whether, under all circumstances, ministers had done their duty in concluding the present treaty of peace. He renewed his congratulations on the unanimity and harmony now subsisting among the allies, and on the happy effects which these had produced, and which still seemed likely to flow from them. If any thing were done by this country which at all went to separate its interests from those of its allies, he was convinced that we should not only give up the advantages felt from their influence, but should do that which would tend to keep up that military spirit in Europe, which it was desirable to see lowered. Though the other powers in Europe had not been thrown into those monstrous creations of military efforts which had been witnessed in France, still it could not be denied, that there existed in them a warlike spirit, which could not immediately subside; and he went along with those on the opposite side, who were of opinion, that a perfect state of peace could never be obtained till that spirit should be much abated; till armies became again universally the creatures of the state, instead of states being, as they had been seen in some instances, the creatures of the armies. A reduction of the military force of England could take place sooner than a similar reduction could be effected in other countries; but if we were to be precipitate in putting this measure in operation, while all the rest of the world were in arms, we should do that which would be likely to perpetuate that system which we wished to see changed, and which, if a different course were pursued on our part, we might reasonably hope would not long be upheld. The noble lord concluded with moving,

"That an humble Address be presented to his royal highness the Prince Regent, to return to his royal highness our sincerest acknowledgments and thanks for the important and satisfactory communication which his royal highness has been graciously pleased to make to us of the definitive treaty concluded at Paris, on the 20th of November last, with his most Christian majesty the king of France and Navarre, together with the various arrangements connected therewith, by which the blessings of peace are restored to Europe:

"To assure his royal highness that we have witnessed, with equal admiration and applause, the promptitude, unanimity, and vigor, with which the allied forces were brought into the field at the outset of the campaign, to which unexampled exertions, under Providence, is to be attributed the early consummation of a victory by which the contest was at once brought to a successful close, and which may be justly recorded as a triumph unparalleled in the annals of war, both for its glories and for its results:

"That, after the experience of the preceding year, we fully approve the policy which determined his royal highness and his allies to found the recent peace upon a principle of salutary precaution:

"That, whilst we express our satisfaction at the additional means of defense provided for the future security of other states, we cannot but rejoice to observe, that it has been found practicable to combine the measures which Europe owed to its own safety with a system of just and liberal policy towards his most Christian majesty:

"That we fully appreciate the wisdom which has guided his royal highness in cementing, at the close of the war, an alliance which has conducted the contest in which we have been engaged to so auspicious an issue; and we trust that Europe, under the vigilant protection of that alliance, may confidently look forward, after such severe exertions in war, to reap, in the enjoyment of repose, the fruits of its long and many sacrifices:

"That on the justice and moderation which his royal highness has proclaimed to Europe, as forming the basis of his councils, and which, we doubt not, will equally animate the councils of the other members of the alliance, we especially rely for recalling the world from the pursuits of war to the milder maxims of civil order and peace:

"To assure his royal highness that he may rely on the invariable support of this House, not only in maintaining principles so congenial to our own sentiments, and to the genius of the constitution under which we have the happiness to live, but also in giving effect to the several engagements which his royal highness had taken with his majesty's allies, trusting that the result will correspond with the enlightened views which his royal highness has formed for the peace and security of Europe."

, in delivering his opinion upon the subject before the House, was ready to admit that in many of the sentiments and in many of the maxims expressed by the noble lord in his speech that night, he undoubtedly concurred. That noble lord had, however, traveled into a good deal of extraneous matter, which was not upon the present question absolutely necessary for the consideration of the House. Though it had been attempted to show that it was a question merely upon the simple treaty last concluded between this country and France, and that it did not involve a consideration of the congress at Vienna, he did not see how that treaty and the congress could be separated. With respect to any agreements entered into with France, their value could be appreciated according to other stipulations made for the benefit of Europe. The House was, therefore, called upon to form its judgment of the conduct pursued by the noble lord, not only in the Treaty he had eluded to, but of that conduct which preceded this event. The machinery which had been used upon this occasion was not that upon which the House could exactly decide, as they could see it only as it were "through a glass darkly. During a considerable portion of the noble lord's speech he had dwelt much upon the unanimity of the allies—he had blazoned forth the illustrious deeds of their armies, and had shown the great coincidence which existed between the different powers of Europe, when they had directed their efforts to one object, the peace and security of Europe. In all the encomiums bestowed upon that great general, by whom they were eventually led to victory, lord Milton said, he most heartily concurred. He thought, nevertheless, the noble lord had made his case too good. He had described the force against France at 1,140,000 men, besides those which were in reserve, amounting in the whole to 1,500,000 men in arms. Then, what had been the result of all this mighty force, and these great exertions, so honourable to the nations of Europe, and the councils by whom they were roused and brought into action? He concurred most fully, perhaps no man more fully, with those observations which the noble lord had made upon the military despotism of France: but these were the objects of former statesmen, upon whom the noble lord appeared to look down with an air of superiority. The noble lord seemed anxious to persuade the House, that the only object to be attained was, that of putting an end to the military system of France. Ilea would not deny that the military character which France had assumed, was one object to which the united exertions of Europe were applied; but be was at the same time, extremely doubtful if the means employed had been adequate to the purpose. He would leave it to the consideration of that House, how far the means used were likely to occupy the reflection and the feelings of the French nation. What must be their feelings when they saw the military force of England and Russia in possession of the line of their fortresses? When they saw the British and Russian flag flying upon those fortresses? When the ploughman could not go with his ploughshare to the field without witnessing those armies which were arrayed against his country? Did the noble lord imagine that the contributions to be paid by France would create no regret in the nation? Did the noble lord think that the tearing down of the territory of France was the only injury that country could not forgive? Even the taking away the monuments of the arts could produce no satisfaction; neither could the contributions paid to the English and Russians on the frontiers of the Netherlands. When these things were borne in mind, did the noble lord really think the peace promised to be so lasting? Did he believe that the degradation would be forgotten or forgiven by the French? Other securities might have been obtained, in his opinion, which would have produced less irritation in the public mind and which would, at the same time, have more completely effected the object which the allies had professed to have in view. The noble lord had also passed high encomiums on the principles by which the allied powers had been actuated, and took credit to them for not having carved and cut out France. It would have been well, before the noble lord indulged in these panegyrics, if he had recalled to his recollection the principles by which the congress was all along actuated, with respect to Saxony and Genoa. The noble lord, he believed, had also said, that the boundaries appointed for the kingdom of the Netherlands, were carried to the utmost possible extent to which it was ever considered necessary to carry them before. Had the noble lord taken the trouble to look at the letter of the duke of Marlborough, in his correspondence upon the boundaries of Holland, however, he would have found that he was not quite correct in his conclusions; that noble duke having distinctly included Lisle, as well as several other fortresses not embraced by his lordship, in what he considered the proper line of boundary, to secure the low countries from the incursions of France. He would also refer the noble lord to the negotiation with Spain, upon the subject of the Spanish frontiers in the Netherlands, and again to the barrier treaty in 1715; both of which documents would furnish an illustration of his ignorance upon this topic. He denied that the policy adopted by the noble lord for the protection of the Netherlands was either wise, or likely to prove substantially permanent; for as soon as ever the Russian, Prussian, Austrian, and English armies retreated, if any cause of jealousy or dissension arose with France, she would immediately pour in her army, and put an end at once to all this ideal security. The Netherlands, he contended, were not properly secured by the treaty under the consideration of the House, against the ambition of France, which it ought not to be supposed could disturb the world no more, because a Bourbon sat upon the throne who was advanced in years, and could not distinguish himself by personal activity. He would take the opinion of those with whom the noble lord had dined and coquetted in Paris on this treaty. He did not believe it could be viewed with general satisfaction any where and the advantages which it gave the king of the Netherlands he viewed but as temporary. Did the noble lord think, and could the House think, that this new kingdom of the Netherlands, containing a population of about four millions of people, could resist the whole power of France? But, on this point, the noble lord had turned round and assured the House that France would cease to be a military power. If France ceased to be military, she would become different from what she had ever been. Ilea were not disposed to object to legitimacy, of which so much was said now a-days and after the late mark of distinction paid to Cardinal York. He, on the contrary, was disposed to uphold legitimacy, but he did not think legitimacy always depended upon consanguinity, and when the cry of legitimacy was raised so high, he was led to conclude, that something more was intended than immediately met the eye. He was happy to hear the noble lord desired the abatement of that military spirit which had been excited throughout Europe; but he thought the conduct of the noble lord stood in opposition to his avowed principles. The noble lord had said he would never be satisfied till he saw Europe sit down in a more civil state. Be was glad to hear him say so, but 150,000 armed men on the frontiers of France, ready to act according to the discretion of the duke of Wellington, if he should consider there was a revolution in that country, was not likely to produce such a state among nations. With every admiration of that great general, he did not perceive the propriety of entrusting this discretionary power to him. To give him this power was virtually to make the duke of Wellington king of France. No man in that House detested more sincerely the revolutionary principles upon which the French set out in their original career than he did; but at the same time there were revolutions in which he thought this or any other country ought not to interfere, and which it would be neither politic nor just for us to prevent:

"Non tali auxilio nec defensoribus istis Tempus eget."

If once it was to be conceded, that such interference was justifiable, it would be in the power of all the neighboring states to dictate the form of government which they might approve, and totally to exclude the people from any choice whatever. Anxious as he was for the reign of Louis 18, for he believed him in disposition the father of his people, still he could not subscribe to the doctrine deduced from the instructions to the duke of Wellington that there could be no revolution in France, but such as would call for the interference of this country. The triple and quadruple alliances concluded in 1715 and 1718, he contended, had been injudiciously brought forward for comparison on the present occasion. Those treaties differed most essentially from the present, as it was to be remembered that England who was most materially afflicted by them, was a willing party to them. Under these circumstances, no fair comparison could be drawn between the documents referred to. He had not opposed the last treaty of peace, but he thought he had a right to object to the present, as he conceived it to be pregnant with danger. In these arrangements ministers should not have regarded merely a period equal to that of their short lives, but ought to have contemplated posterity, whose interests were founded upon something better than arrangements of such a temporary description. The noble lord had said that the best surety to Europe was the character of his most Christian majesty. But when Louis 14, was no more, it was no ground for preserving the advantages obtained against the inroads of France. Even Louis 15, that effeminate king, took the electorate of Hanover, because it belonged to the King of Great Britain, which was no earnest of the security to be expected from the family of the Bourbons. Because the present Louis was an old and gouty man, the noble lord seemed to consider him as the security of Europe; but to place the liberties and tranquility of Europe upon the disposition of the Bourbons was not a basis upon which he would wish to see them fixed. Upon all these grounds he could not agree that this peace which was to have proved the panacea for all our evils, had been productive of any real advantages. At the end of the five years, during which the allies were to remain in France, it was likely a new war would break out. With a view to this a right hon. gentleman opposite would perhaps say it was fit we should be constantly prepared for war; that was, he would have the country exhaust its resources during peace, and that it might be ready for renewed hostilities. The present treaty brought places and patronage in abundance—it made the Horse-guards all alive; cutting whiskers and trimming jackets went on there as busily as ever; and in addition to these great advantages, it was intended to bring us the property-tax at five per cent. If this tax were again imposed, it would be so easy for the ministers to keep it on, and to increase it to 7, 8, or 10 per cent. That he should never expect to see it taken off again. The noble lord concluded an able speech with moving by way of amendment,

"That an humble Address be presented to his royal highness the Prince Regent, to assure his Royal Highness, that after so long a period of the most sanguinary revolutions and wars, no event could be more gratifying to our feelings, than the establishment of universal tranquility; and no wish nearer to our hearts than the permanence of a blessing so ardently desired and so dearly purchased. But that in proportion to our solicitude for the continuance of peace is the anxiety and alarm with which we view the means adopted for its security; by continuing to maintain in arms a great allied force, and by holding in military occupation the frontier of one of the powers so lately belligerent. In these stipulations we recognize nothing of a pacific character. To our minds this measure still presents the fearful image of war, suspending indeed for a time its ravages, but prepared at every moment to renew them with increased activity. It tends, we fear, to keep alive and to inflame every hostile passion; and to prolong the animosity of an enemy, overpowered but not weakened, humiliated but not reconciled. These precautions, professedly temporary, have indeed provided nothing for permanent security. They expose to the greatest hazards, that union by which alone our deliverance was achieved. And by an unexpected call for continued exertions, and fresh sacrifices, they aggravate every where that dreadful pressure which has already nearly weighed down all European nations.

"Under any circumstances, and for any purposes, we should deeply have lamented, that our times should be the first doomed to witness the new spectacle of the assembly and maintenance of such a force, as the necessary and stipulated accompaniment of a treaty of general pacification; from the cordial co-operation of the allies, and from the brilliant successes of their arms, we had indeed cherished other hopes. Every motive, both of justice and of prudence, required, as we thought, the limitation of the power of France, proved by reiterated experience, so formidable to the liberties of Europe. When this had been affected, we trusted that a great reduction would have been agreed upon by general consent, in the enormous and disproportionate military peace establishments, which during the last century, a jealous and most improvident competition had carried almost universally to an extent destructive of the best interests of civil society. Next to the cessation of actual warfare, this was the highest benefit which peace could have conferred upon Europe—the best pledge of the mutual union and confidence of her sovereigns—the best reward for the merits and the sufferings of their subjects.

"To originate, to recommend, to accomplish a concert of such great and universal advantage, would have been the utmost glory to which in these negotiations Great Britain could have aspired. It was consonant to the long usage of our government—to the moral feelings of our people—to the pressing calls of our financial system, and, above all, to the fundamental principles upon which alone our constitution stands. We see, then, with the most profound affliction, that instead of successfully urging this policy on others, we have now ourselves abandoned it. We cannot repress our own feelings, and we judge from them the feelings of our country, when called upon to concur in carrying the opposite principle to an extent hitherto unsought of, even in the most military governments; maintaining in peace, and in the territories of a foreign power, a great military force in constant preparation for action.

"We humbly assure his royal highness, that we shall at all times be most anxious to support and uphold the high station of our country in the eyes of the surrounding nations; but we beg leave to represent, that this station never has been that of one of the great military powers of Europe. It is by a contrary system that. We have risen to prosperity and greatness. These are, under Providence, solely to be ascribed to the influence of a government, founded in freedom, and maintained by the arts and institutions of peace. We know not how a great and permanent military establishment, continued after the termination of the war, for which alone it was created, can ever be made consistent with the principles of such a constitution, or the security of such a government. History affords no such example, and in our own country the experiment has never before been attempted. The happy advantages of our situation, and our sedulous attention to the sources of maritime defense, have hitherto preserved as from it. To prevent any such necessity was among the most powerful of the motives for all our exertions and all our sacrifices. And urgent, indeed, must be the reasons which could now reconcile us in victory and triumph to the adoption of that very system, to avert which we did not hesitate to hazard our existence."

, in a maiden speech, seconded the amendment. He admitted that all pacification with Buonaparté, contemplating his military system, would have been highly alarming; but that circumstance was not sufficiently strong to make him view, with perfect approbation, a peace which entailed such enormous burdens on the country. The security fir that peace, was, it appeared, the keeping up of a line of fortresses, and a very considerable pecuniary sacrifice. With respect to the first branch of the security, the temporary occupation of the fortresses, it was greatly inferior to that offered by Louis 14, who was willing to give up Tourney, Strasburg, Maybug, &c. He mentioned this, because, in our intercourse with France, on the continent, one of two modes must be pursued, either conciliation or repression. Now, he contended that this temporary occupation did away with the hope of conciliation, and was not strong enough to awe and repress the spirit of ambition. He next came to the pecuniary part of the agreement. He did not mean to enter into a legal discussion on this point; but be should certainly apprehend great danger, if, when a treaty of peace was concluded with this country, a pecuniary gift was handed to the monarch. The mutiny act was evidently intended for the purpose of keeping the army within the power of parliament. But, if a sum of money was given to the sovereign, and he afterwards thought proper to distribute it amongst his troops, it then became clear that the army were no longer under the control of parliament. [Loud cries of Hear, hear!] The hon. member concluded by expressing his hostility to those fixed meetings of monarchs, which appeared to have for their object, the settlement of the internal concerns of every people in Europe. He thought that House was perfectly capable of conducting the affairs of the country; but if, in future, their political concerns were to be formally discussed on the continent, then our interests were not likely to be very successfully maintained.

said, that if that House, echoing the general sentiments of the country, had congratulated the throne on the peace of 1814; he knew not why a similar course should not now be pursued, at the termination of a contest which had raised our military glory to the highest point of distinction? The treaty then on their table proved, beyond a doubt, the union of the allied powers; for without the most decisive union, so grand a result could never have been obtained. When, in 1814, the capital of France fell into the hands of the allies, there were but few Englishmen who did not feel a pardonable regret, that the army of Great Britain, which had borne the brunt of the contest, was not present at that event. It was Great Britain which showed the world; that French armies were not invincible, that French officers were not infallible. Great Britain proved this, when she drove them from the rocks of Lisbon to the banks of the Gerona. When the proud city of Paris first opened her gates to the allies, no British troops were assisting in the work. There was something wanting to render it perfect. But, subsequently, the British standard waved on the wails of that city; that poetical justice was executed which the best feelings of the heart required. France had been left in possession of that immense wealth which she had procured by the most flagitious means. She retained, as the trophies of her perfidy, the spoils of subjugated Europe. The battle of Waterloo, however, had set these things right. The British army defeated the Usurper, and pursued him to Paris; and the British flag, as in the days of our Plantagenet's, entered Paris in triumph, along with the conquerors and deliverers of France. The moral victory was complete. The restoration of the works of art to those countries from which they had been plundered proved the just and honourable principles by which Great Britain was actuated. The hon. gentleman denied the policy of severing Alsace, Lorraine, or French Comté from the empire of France, which the noble lord (Milton) preferred to the establishment of an army on the French soil. It was a maxim of policy with those who studied the balance of power in Europe most deeply, that France should be a great nation, and the propriety of that maxim could not now be denied, when, in another part of Europe, a power of immense size (he alluded to Russia,) had been established. Besides, though Lorraine, Alsace, and France Comté, had been unjustly subjugated by Louis 14, still, from the length of time that had elapsed since the conquest had been made, from the intercourse which had taken place between the people, by which the French language and French manners were introduced, those provinces might be truly denominated French. With respect to the keeping up of a military force on the French soil, it appeared to him to be a most judicious measure. After twenty five years of illegitimate authority in France, it would not be wise to leave that country to herself. The flame: had been extinguished, but still it was necessary to watch the embers, lest they might again be fanned into a flame. It would be a mockery to place Louis the 18th. on the throne, surrounded by danger, without affording him assistance to enable him to maintain his authority. All Europe called for his restoration; our counsels and our arms had raised him to the throne; and having placed him in that situation, they were bound to support him there. In conclude, soon the hon. gentleman protested against any hasty reduction of our establishments. It was our duty to take such an imposing attitude as would enable us to watch over the peace and prosperity of Europe.

said, that it was by no means his intention to follow the noble lord through. The immense extent and variety of details of which his station gave him the command and his duty induced him at so great length to lay before the House. As to what had just been stated by the hon. gentleman (Mr. E. Lyttleton) with so much spirit on the glorious victory of Waterloo, though he did not perceive its connexion with the question of the policy of the treaty (otherwise than as great victories entitle the victors to advantageous treaties), yet he embraced with pleasure every opportunity of expressing his joy at that glorious victory, Which, if he were speaking in a neutral assembly, he thought might be safely described, both by the splendor of its circumstances and the magnitude of its results, as the most memorable in the annals of mankind. Such, indeed, was his sense of its unspeakable importance, that he conceived it to be underrated by the noble lord, who had told the House that the military means of the allies were such as to have ensured the success of the war even if the battle of Waterloo had been lost. In a limited sense, in the narrow view of a mere military calculator, perhaps this assertion might be true. But who can calculate the effects of the loss of that battle on the spirit of France, or on the union of the confederates? Were there no jealousies scarcely dormant which a defeat might have called out into activity? Might it not have afforded more than a pretence for lukewarm allies to begin to slide out of the alliance;—for reluctant powers of the second class to escape from the protection of their formidable friends;—for popular disaffection to break out?—nowhere more probably than in the very scene of the war. It might have released Napoleon from the restraints on his authority in France. It must have increased the enthusiasm and confidence of the army. It would probably have revived the military spirit, and bestowed on the government a popularity of victory. The allies might indeed still have had the means of subduing France, even in spite of a defeat; but a defeat might have dissolved the alliance, and thus dispersed all its means of war. It was only by keeping out of view the moral and political effects of that unparalleled victory, that the event of the war could be represented as independent of it, and secure, even if that day had terminated in an equally signal defeat.

In hastening to the true and sole question before the House—whether the treaty with France deserved the approbation of parliament? He should be very little delayed by shortly stating his opinion on some general topics of great importance, but not in his view necessary to the decision of the present question. On the subject of legitimate government, he entirely concurred with his noble friend who had moved the amendment. Legitimate was only another word for legal, or rather for lawful. A legitimate government was one of which the title was founded on the laws, and the powers exercised not only according to the laws of the state but according to the inviolable rules of justice and humanity. An authority exercised for the people agreeably to the rules of justice and law was doubtless, in the highest and most sacred sense, legitimate. The destruction of such legitimate government was the greatest curse, and its restoration the greatest blessing that could visit a commonwealth. But as nothing was more venerable than legitimate government thus justly understood, so nothing could be more questionable and dangerous than the manner in which that respectable language had been lately employed in France, where sophistry now lent her colors to the most extravagant pretensions of tyranny as formerly to the wildest visions of anarchy.—As legal authority exercised beneficently was legitimately entitled to claim obedience, so the most legal title to authority might be forfeited by its abusive exercise. There might be a legitimate resistance as well as a legitimate authority. It was as needless to maintain, as it would be fruitless to controvert these principles, in an assembly which owed its power, its greatness, perhaps its existence, to a successful exercise of the right of resistance: For hereditary monarchy, as a wise institution of civil government established and limited by law, founded on the general interest, and defensible for higher interest on an abuse of its powers;—in a word, for a monarchy like that which has existed in England since the revolution, he felt the greatest respect. For such a monarchy he felt inviolable attachment in his own country, and warm approbation in others. But towards that pretended legitimacy which recognized law neither as its basis nor its control; which disdained the feelings as well as the rights and interests of the people; which considered nations an inheritable property, and power in any other light than as a trust presumable in case of abuse, he should ever avow undistinguishing and irreconcilable hostility.

For his own part also, he admitted that the allies entered France with all the rights of conquerors, nor did he contend that by any of their public acts or declarations they had renounced or narrowed these rights.—They had a right as conquerors to exact such conditions from France as might afford indemnity for past, and security against future wrongs. For the just exercise of such rights all conquerors were morally answerable to God and man. The advisers of the Crown of England were legally answerable in parliament for it, and they had this night put themselves upon their country to decide whether they had wisely and honestly exercised these rights of conquest. He certainly should not dispute the whip precedents quoted by the noble lord. It had already been remarked by his noble friend, that they were peculiarly unfortunate in their application. In both the barrier treaties, and in the quadruple, alliance, these were indeed guarantees—but of what?—of a new family established in England by the revolution—of a government established by the parliament and people on the expulsion of their hereditary sovereigns. It was a guarantee of public liberty—of popular right;—a promise of the aid of foreign powers to resist the claims of pretended legitimacy, and to destroy all pretenders to the crown on such grounds, and all their adherents. There certainly might be a guarantee against rebellion. Such a guarantee was of a very equivocal and dangerous character, more liable than any other to abuse: but there might be a guarantee. Against all unjust attack. Beyond that, no guarantee, however general its language could extend. There could be no guarantee to defend a prince against the just hostility of foreign states, or the just revolt of his own subjects. A treaty, which is a moral and legal compact, cannot have for its object to maintain injustice. A conspiracy to do or to help wrong is no treaty.

The noble lord had stated the grounds on which the allies had declined to guarantee what is called the constitution of France. Perhaps they were right, if a guarantee implied a right of interference in any subordinate dispute of French law or administration. He was ready to admit, that nothing could be more vexatious to France and pernicious to Europe. But as they had in substance covenanted to maintain the authority of Louis 18, as they remained in arms for that object which they held to be essential to the general quiet, they had undoubtedly contracted the strongest obligations to prevent him from using the power which they, in fact, gave him for I the oppression of his subjects. Tyranny in the French government, systematical intention to destroy the laws which they had promised to observe, or cruelty in the exercise of legal power, not only released the allies from all obligation to support that government, but imposed upon them the duty of withdrawing support.

After several other observations on the general questions of legitimacy, and interference in internal concerns, he proceeded more particularly to the question, whether the conditions of the treaty were so advantageous and safe for Europe as the unparalleled success of the war had given us a right to expect.

He had, with pleasure, heard the noble lord say, "that military policy was a monster in any country," and he had no difficulty in assenting to the position, "that no army was ever such a scourge of the liberties of the world as the French army," because he regarded armies as the scourge of liberty at home and abroad, precisely in proportion to their numbers, their experience, their skill, and their discipline. Their civil danger was proportioned to their military perfection. All that rendered them effective in war made them the just objects of fear, jealousy, and odium in peace.

He could not but admire the discriminating scruples of the noble lord. He tells us that "the efforts of France in war were crippled by the dispositions of the royalists. He tells us at the same time that La Vendée had submitted before the victory of Waterloo. Yet he thinks this a division which the king of France is entitled to count in the negotiation. Last year, however, the exertions of the Genoese people, without which the capture of Genoa would have been impossible, were considered as no Jenson for restoring that republic.

Besides the general interest of England to preserve the balance of power, she had two objects of continental policy of the first rank in her system. France was not indeed our natural enemy, but our natural rival and antagonist; the state which permanently most threatened all others with which we had most frequent and important subjects of dispute, which had most the means of annoying us; in fine, both by situation and interest the permanent counterpoise of England in the general system of Europe. To preserve the two states which are placed at either extremities of France on the shore opposite to us, from being conquered or constantly influenced by that predominating state, was therefore at all times a fundamental principle of our policy. To preserve the independence of Spain and Holland was a primary object, not only because it was necessary to guard against the ascendant or aggrandizement of France on the continent, but because they were maritime, commercial, and colonial states of great importance. To keep Spain out of the hands of France was the object of the war of the Spanish succession. The establishment of a Bourbon king on the throne of Spain ensured the ascendant of France in the Spanish councils. But the treaty of Utrecht, amidst all its demerits, had some frail and precarious guards against the formal reduction of Spain into a French Province. The renunciations of the French crown by the Spanish Bourbons, however illusory they might have proved in the hour of trial at least recognized the principle of separation, and declared that the incorporation of these two monarchies would be a just cause of war. That frail security was now destroyed by the non-renewal of ancient treaties on the present occasion. The Bourbons of Spain were released from their renunciation of the Crown of France, and there was no obligation of public law which could prevent the crowns of France, Spain, and the two Sicilians, from being united on the same head: nor let it be said that the danger is visionary. The branch reigning in France might soon become extinct. And short of that event, the possibility, and still more the hope of the succession must give a French character to the policy of the Spanish Bourbons. Another important provision of that unfortunate treaty remained without renewal. One of its articles prohibited the cession of any Spanish colonies in America to France. This article might be considered as one of the fundamental conditions under which Europe had, by a sort of tacit guarantee, secured to Spain the possession of those vast colonies which she was herself too feeble to maintain. That condition no longer exists. The danger provided against is now perhaps greater than at any moment since the peace of Utrecht. Spain is unable to re-, duce her revolted colonies. The cession of some would be a small price for the recovery of the rest. France, on the other hand, has an army from which the present government would gladly be delivered by any foreign occupation, covered by so decent a pretence as the acquisition of new American dominions.

Circumstances had, indeed, provided a substitute for the treaty of Utrecht which, better than all stipulations and engagements, might have secured Spain against the influence of France. The events of the Spanish revolution had created a new antigallican spirit in the Peninsula. The fraudulent, faithless, and cruel invasion of the country had naturally exasperated the ancient prejudices of the Spanish people against their neighbors. And if a powerful popular assembly had become a permanent part of the institutions of Spain, the French propensities of a Bour- bon court might have been controlled by the Spanish feeling of the people and their representatives. A popular government in that country was likely to become the chief antagonist of the most formidable enemies of England. A Spanish cortex was likely to have been antigallican, if not English, in their sentiments. A Spanish despotism must lean upon France. The destruction of all popular institutions and principles in Spain is in this, as well as in ninny other more important respects, a severe blow to the permanent interests of England.

On the northern frontier of France was Holland, of which the security had always been and must ever continue the first single object of the foreign policy of this country. Since the existence of the Dutch Republic it had always been considered as essential to her safety that she should have a strong barrier against France. From the final recognition of her independence at the treaty of Westphalia, she had never in fact been without such a barrier. It was an established principle, that the Catholic Netherlands guarded by strong fortresses should be interposed between her and France, and held by a military power of the first rank. From the treaty of Westphalia to the treaty of Utrecht, this barrier was entrusted to the Spanish branch of the house of Austria. From the treaty of Utrecht to the French revolution, it was committed to the German branch. They had always been in the hands of a power too distant to seek aggrandizement at the expense of Holland, and strong enough either to defend them against French invision, or to recover them, if they were over-run by a victorious French army. The whole of this ancient system was now over-run: Holland was exposed without a guard to the attacks of France. The noble lord had made her a more tempting spoil without giving her a stronger defense. For, supposing that it was politic to incorporate the Catholic aid Protestant Netherlands, it was evidently necessary to give as much additional strength to the frontier of the new state, as had been lost by a great military power no longer guarding the barrier. In this respect, the Netherlands materially differed from Germany. However defective and insecure the frontier of, the empire against France might seem to be, whatever imperfections might be discovered in it by a military eye, at least it must be owned, that without material inconvenience, this frontier had continued nearly the same for a century and a half. Experience showed that it was a demarcation compatible with tolerable security to the German States. But the present state of Holland was a new experiment; she had never existed for a single instant with so little security against France as that to which she is now reduced.

This consideration led to the general question of a comparison between the advantages of territorial cession, and those of pecuniary indemnification. And on that subject he should begin by entirely laying out of the question these extensive and as he thought, monstrous cessions of territory of which the noble lord had spoken, to speak of a third or a half of France, was in truth to threaten her with the fate of Poland. The dismemberment of France was an odious and alarming sound. It was one of the essential conditions of the European system, that France should continue independent, secure, and powerful, in the first rank of great states. All projects of partition he abhorred in their principle, their effects, and their example, and especially in their application at the present moment to France. A cession of fortresses to secure the frontier of a weak neighbor was to be balanced against a pecuniary indemnity; such a cession had nothing alarming to France, because it was a mere defense to a state too feeble ever to be an aggressor. It was not humiliating to France, because it was not transferred to an equal or a rival. Fortresses on the side of the Netherlands could be valued by France only as means of conquests; solicitude for their preservation was almost an avowal of projects of ambition. Such a cession could neither be a bye danger to the quiet of Europe, nor "an apple of discord" thrown among allies, whom the noble lord now represented as in such danger of being changed into enemies. He should not approve any cession of which the object was, to weaken France, or in substance to change the place which she had occupied in the European confederacy. But he owned he thought that it would have been perfectly reasonable to have taken from her such fortresses on her northern frontier, as would render the barrier against her in that quarter, as strong as it was before the war, which should compensate to Holland by a military bulwark, for the political guards of which circumstances had deprived her.

With respect to France, the question was comparative. Such a cession would have strengthened Holland; it would thereby have given some lasting security to Europe, while all the securities now provided were temporary. What would it be in comparison with the pecuniary contributions to France? Cession of territory is the usual misfortune of the vanquished; tribute has rarely been imposed upon a state of the first class in the modern world; it is ignominious, it is a protracted irritation, it is a remembrance of defeat and disgrace; it keeps up and exasperates the vindictive spirit of the French against the conquerors, and against the sovereign whom these conquerors established. The king of France was for five years, to appear to his subjects as a tax-gatherer for foreign conquerors. On a cession of territory the king would suffer with the nation. In the system of contributions the nation would appear to suffer by the king. Defeat, degradation, every galling irritation which attends the collection of tribute for five years, were the remembrances which the present treaty seemed to him to connect in the minds of the French people with the restoration Of the house of Bourbon.

After some other observations, he concluded by observing, that his strength at that moment did not allow him to offer at large his reasons for dissenting from a treaty which, as the fruits of the battle of Waterloo, proposed an income tax and a standing army of a hundred thousand men, and which, as it adopted the whole defensive part of the treaty of Chaumont, but the occupation of the French fortresses, proclaimed the opinion of its framers to be that the security of Europe required as many safeguards against France under Louis 18, as it had against France under Napoleon Buonaparté.

rose and said:—Sir I am anxious not to come to a silent vote on this question. Thinking and feeling as strongly as I do, I wish to express my concurrence in a vote conveying the Censure of this House on the terms of a peace, in my opinion, at once extravagant and oppressive, insecure with regard to our foreign policy, and highly dangerous to our best interests at home. Sir it is natural that on a subject which necessarily involves topics so awful to approach and so important in their discussion, I should feel and acknowledge my entire inability to do justice to the opinions I entertain. I should, indeed, be destitute of every good and proper feeling, could I attempt to disguise this, even from myself. But, I feel at once my confidence and my strength, in the real consciousness of what are my own motives in thus addressing you, and in the conviction that there are persons within these Walls, well competent to supply what my inexperience or incapacity may omit, and to give authority and effect to those sentiments which, in common with them, I entertain. For my own part, on a subject so widely extended, comprising so large a scope of discussion, including the gravest and most vital questions of foreign policy, and of international law, on that extensive field it would ill become me to enter. I shall place my opposition to the treaty within a far narrower compass on a more confined and insulated ground, but, on one, in my opinion perhaps, of all the strongest and the most important to us.

Sir when I learned, some time ago, by rumor what were then supposed to be. The articles of a negotiation of peace with France in the contemplation of his majesty's ministers, there were some of those articles which I confess filled me with astonishment. Many of them I was sincerely inclined to regret. One of them I was heartily disposed, for I felt deeply anxious, entirely to disbelieve. We are very apt I believe (sometimes perhaps unreasonably), to doubt the existence of a fact which we deeply deprecate. Such, Sir, was my case,—I could not believe, for I sincerely hoped it was not possible, that an English minister could have put his amen to a certain article which is contained in this treaty. I find, however, that my hopes and my belief have been together deceived. I find, by the papers now before us, that we have purchased peace at the expense of an article pledging this country, as matter of prerogative, and without previous reference to parliament, to the keeping up, during a considerable time of peace, a large British force, entirely supported by France, as a standing army in that country; a measure, Sir, I believe I am warranted in saying, as perilous to us, with regard to our future relations with that country, as pernicious to the honour, to the interests, and to the moral state, of that army itself, but, principally, and above all, a measure as subversive of the first principles of our civil constitution, as has ever been attempted in the worst times of the English history.

There are, Sir, moments, I grant it, in which the necessities and the dangers of a state may demand that the stern tone of constitutional remonstrance may, for a time, be moderated, nay be perhaps partially silenced, in consideration of the great evils of popular division. Among interests of an importance yet more vital to the state, when the life of the community is immediately menaced from without, and its energies are to be promptly roused in the common cause of self defense, some partial and temporary sacrifices may, perhaps, under circumstances, be allowed, sacrifices I mean of civil right for political safety. But, these qualifications of that duty we all must feel imposed on us of guarding even the approaches of that constitution committed to our charge must cease, whenever that unnatural position of affairs shall have ceased which first recommended and justified these qualifications to us. A nation, which, like our own, has, by unprecedented exertions, by unprecedented sacrifices, ensured her safety from without, must in time return to the re-assertion of her rights at home, and she must hail the moment of a cause triumphant, of interests protected, of independence secured, and of peace restored, as the period when at length the ancient principles and ancient habits of her civil constitution must re-assume their former station and sway. Such is now the position of this country. A long and an arduous warfare have put the public virtues of England to a severe, but to a triumphant test. Among those public virtues, a generous, a profuse, confidence in the executive government has ever been foremost. The British soldier, and the British citizen, has, like brothers encountered their respective hardships, their respective sacrifices, together. Nor did the British citizen, in the course of that awful struggle, ever look back (as he might have done) with weak regret, at the constitutional securities he, for a time, left behind, at the constitutional benefits he, for a time, nobly disclaimed. But, Sir, that blessed earnest of our constitutional security, our jealousy of a standing army, a jealousy which it would perhaps have been unmanly and frivolous, in the course of such a struggle, too fondly to indulge, it would now be crime to dismiss, or even to disguise. A military system has advanced with rapid and fearful strides upon us, and it now requires a more than ordinary energy and firmness to save our country from its influence. The danger is of no common nature, and of no common magnitude. We have to stem a torrent, which our own necessities, and dangers, may have contributed to swell, but which I fear the interests of some, and the indolent inattention of many, have suffered to gain a height, from which it now threatens to burst forth, perhaps to overwhelm all that remains of our civil freedom to us.

Sir, I may very probably be accused of viewing the inroads, which a long war has made on our constitution, in an exaggerated light.—I may very probably be accused of viewing them with the eyes of a young man, who thinks (vainly perhaps), that he detects, in the best and wisest measures of executive wisdom, some attack on his speculative and visionary notions of public liberty. I hope to God it may be so. I hope to God that I may be deceived. I am speaking to older men than myself, but I should consider even myself a traitor to my country's best interests, did I not, when I think I see her constitution vitally and furiously attacked, raise my humble voice at least to protest against measures which, as I view them, menace no less than the erecting a military system on the ruins of our popular freedom.

Sir, I do not believe it of the English parliament or people, and, therefore, I trust I never should be found to impute to them, that their jealous love, their al-. most religious veneration for their civil rights, their resolution never to endure that those rights shall be insulted or overawed by the presence of a military force is felt or acknowledged less warmly by them than by those ancestors from whom these prejudices, these opinions, these blessings are derived.—I do not, I cannot, believe, that the experience of the last five and twenty years (exhibiting as it has to us the miseries, the disunion, the degradation, of successively every nation in Europe but our own) can have taught an English parliament or people to undervalue that purity of civil constitution, to which I believe that (under Heaven) we owe that sense of common interest, that unshaken love of country, that intrepid and dignified resolution, which has hitherto accompanied our efforts, and has conducted them to a glorious issue.—I do not believe that the contemplation of such effects can have taught us to undervalue the causes of our strength.—But, Sir, I do believe that a state of active exertion for the last five and twenty years, a struggle against a powerful and inveterate foreign enemy, a struggle which has filled up the whole measure of the recollections of most of us, may have disused us from the way of thinking and speaking on our rights as citizens, which, in better times, was familiar in this House, and which it is now high time for this House at length to readopt.

But then, Sir, we are asked, in what consists this violation of the constitution complained of? We are reminded, on the subject of an article engaging this country, during peace, to furnish a contingent of troops to France, that such an engagement it always must remain with parliament to give effect to. An analogy has been attempted to be drawn between this engagement and one of a subsidiary nature, and we are told that this article was thus entered into on the one hand, and received on the other, conditionally.—That those powers with whom we treated were aware that it was necessary for parliament to give to the Crown the means of fulfilling those engagements,—and that ministers now come to parliament to be enabled to give effect to this article. This, entire Sir, I is perfectly ready to admit.—Nor do I deny the possibility of a case being made out, strong enough to justify parliament, even in such a measure as the enabling the king to keep up during peace, a British force in France. But such a case must be made out very strongly indeed, before I think the House can be justified in reposing so formidable a weapon in the hands of the Crown and of its ministers. But, even supposing for a moment such a case to be made out, which I think it would be difficult, but for the sake of argument, to admit, supposing such a case to be established, what is then the excuse, what is the palliation, of ministers, who, while such a definitive treaty was actually on the point of being ratified, dared to prorogue parliament for a period almost unprecedented, unprecedented indeed, unless gentlemen are prepared to have recourse to the foul times of James the 2d for a precedent.

Sir, I heard the explanation attempted to be given some nights ago on this point by the right hon. the chancellor of the exchequer, and I am sorry to say that, in my opinion at least, so far from that explanation being satisfactory, it puts the slight which has been passed on parliament on yet more prominent grounds. I cannot, in the first place, admit as an ex- plantation the fact of the ratification having been delayed for a time so disproportionate as two months after the signature of the definitive treaty. But even supposing this delay to have been necessary, I think it was then the paramount duty of ministers to meet parliament, even upon the definitive treaty, to take the sense of parliament, and to demand its sanction, on an article so abhorrent from the principle and practice of the constitution. The extraordinary provisions of the stipulation demanded, I think, in this case, a departure from the general forms permitted to the exercise of royal prerogative. Sir, if ministers can delay a ratification, without explaining the causes of that delay; for two months, they can do so for any length of time, and, in the mean while, the definitive treaty carries into execution a stipulation, by which, contrary to the laws of the land, a military force is kept up, without consent of parliament. Ministers, have dared, Sir, to tell the British parliament that, with a standing army at its gates, it is not to meet, until the necessities of the state call aloud for a supply.—They have dared to leave the gentlemen of an English House of Commons to collect their first information on such subjects as a treaty of peace, and a standing army, from the garbled reports of a French senate.—Sir, the French king has behaved better to his enslaved and fettered parliament, than the advisers of the English Crown have to us. Louis has met, has communicated, long ago with his parliament. The Prince Regent has been advised to do an act which the letter as well as the spirit of the British constitution forbids, and has been advised to trust to the absolution of parliament whenever it shall be no longer possible for him to go on without meeting it. There is, in my opinion, in this part of the conduct of his majesty's ministers, a character of such irreverent, of such unprovoked, of such intolerable, neglect and contempt of the high authority of parliament, that I think the dignity of this House is compromised, if we do not meet it with a firm and instant remonstrance.

But, new and unexampled, Sir, as this actual neglect and contempt of the high authority of parliament has been, the spirit in which it is conceived has long been matter of grievance to us. We cannot, and we ought not, to disguise it from ourselves, that, for years, the high functions of parliament have been on the decline,— That, for years, as by degrees, the influence of the Crown has grown in upon the constitution, that, for years as the unnatural and stormy times in which we have lived have thrown additional power into the hands of the Crown and of its ministers, an unwise and an unbecoming project has been conceived of ruling without reference to parliament, of by degrees questioning, not only the expediency, but even the right of parliamentary interfere. Once. Sir, I think this project is not wise,—I am sure it is not becoming. I think it is not wise, in a state, the powers of which, as in our own, act, as it were, in compound motion, to mutually support, and control, each other, for one power to arrogate to itself a perpetual influence, which it cannot in perpetuity enjoy, without endangering the motion of the whole machine. I think it is not wise for one estate to provoke, as, by neglect and, insult, it at length must provoke, the remonstrance and jealousy of the other two. I am sure, on the other hand, that it is not becoming, after such a struggle as that which the people of England have endured, after such sacrifices as they have made, and after such confidence as they have lavished, to take them, thus unprepared, their senses not yet sobered from the intoxicating effects of so long, so active, and so gigantick, a warfare, their wishes unconcluded, and their parliament not communicated with, and thus to hurry this country forward to a stipulation, unprecedented in the annals, and unauthorized by the laws, of the realm.

But then, Sir, there is a question that occurs, but is one in itself of such a nature, that it would be little less than insulting gentlemen to anticipate it, were it not one that, in common conversation on this subject, is often objected.—An argument of which some of the public prints of the day have been found to avail themselves. Where is this infraction of the constitution? Where are the constitutional authorities which have declared against the legality of keeping up a standing army in time of peace, provided that army is not kept up within the realm? You find no such authority in the bill of rights, you find it not in the common or statute law of England, Sir, I have always understood that owe of the. Great merits of our ancestors of the year 1688 was, that they confined themselves to the legislating against these immediate evils, of which the constitution had just felt the effect. The constitution had nearly been overthrown, and the laws of the land rendered of none effect, by the presence of a military force within the realm in time of peace. It was against this immediate evil then that the parliament of those days legislated. But, Sir, not only in their general jealousy of standing armies, but on the precise nature of the dangers to be apprehended from standing armies, our ancestors have spoken through every organ of their constitutional law. They have told us that to keep up a standing army in time of peace, within the realm, without consent of parliament, is illegal.—And they have told us why.—Because such a force is peculiarly calculated to be rendered a dangerous instrument, in the hands of an arbitrary court, to overawe parliament, and to assail the liberties of the people. Will any gentlemen, Sir, venture to assert that this danger, so explicitly, so boldly, and so frequently, pointed out by our ancestors, is placed on less strong or prominent grounds by the fact of this unconstitutional force in question being to be kept up on the other side the Channel, and within four-and-twenty hours of our own coast? The nature and principle of the danger is the same. Cases of this sort are cases of principle, and not of precedent.—It is for us to make the application. The spirit of our constitution, like that of our religion, is, in part, unwritten, but it is not therefore vague or undefined. Even in the slavish period of the first year of James 2, before the danger of standing armies had been pointed out, or their illegality declared, by either the deliration or the bill of rights, the first opposition which was raised, in the parliament of 1685 to the measures of that arbitrary prince was on his having been advised to raise, during a recess of parliament, a few regiments to supply the deficiencies of the militia system. What was the ministers' defense then? No less a one than war threatened from without, and rebellion raging within the country. Argyle and Monmouth had actually been in arms within the realm. And yet, even, at that time, even that submissive and slavish parliament felt it to be its duty to remonstrate with the king, on the having raised these few regiments, and, instead of a supply, the committee voted a resolution, that "a standing army is subversive, of the liberties of the country."

In the exceptions voted to the bill of indemnity, in the first of William and Mary, we find that it is declared a high crime and misdemeanor to advise the raising or keeping up a standing army, without consent of parliament in time of peace. And here there is no mention of whether within or without the realm. If then we say that the keeping up a standing army in time of peace, without consent of parliament, is not illegal, provided that army be not within the realm, we impeach the resolution of that committee, and we impeach the declaration of the convention parliament. But, Sir, I feel that I ought to apologize to the House tar wasting so much of its time on this part of the subject. Nay, I feel that I ought almost to apologize to his majesty's ministers for imputing such a defense to them. Nay more, I think that my vote to night may rest on its being capable of demonstration, that, in no other position or destination whatsoever, can an army be rendered so dangerous to our liberties, so offensive to our constitution, as to that very position assigned to our army (of occupation as it is called) in France.—And in order to satisfy ourselves on this point, we need, I think, only consider, 1st the destination of that army, 2dly its duties, and 3dly, the means of its support.

It has been said by an eminent writer on this subject, that, "in a free state, the control of that necessary, but dangerous, body, the army, should be peculiarly within the power, and always under the jealous supervision, of parliaments. No army should be maintained, but for the protection of the country and its laws. All beyond makes the army an instrument in the hands of arbitrary power. To prevent then the executive power from being able to oppress, the armies with which it is entrusted should consist of the people, and have the same spirit with the people. Nothing should be more guarded against than making the military force, when such a one is necessary, a body too distinct from the people. It should live intermixed with them, and a constant circulation should be kept up between them."

Now, Sir, how does this apply to the position of that army of ours which it is now proposed to keep up in France? Flow is that community that circulation of interests, to be maintained between the people of England and an army quartered in France? An army doomed to an indolent listless participation in all that is contagious in French habits, in French politics, acting French morality.—Doomed to witness, perhaps for years, a people enslaved, yet tranquillized by the very force that enslaved them.—A people, either gloomy in the impotent consciousness of their own debasement, or perhaps worse, lost in thoughtless profligacy, and reveling over the grave of their ruined fortunes and their fallen honour.—To witness a government, itself the badge and symbol of that country's overthrow,—a throne raised by foreigners, and a scepter too weak to protect even its own people, a government, at once disliked and feared, yet supported, fenced round, and upheld, by the irresistible influence of the bayonet and the saber.

Is this a scene to exhibit to a British army?—Is this a lesson in which a British army is to be instructed?—At least, if a British army is to be endured to such scenes, and instructed in such duties, are these the circumstances under which they are to be considered as no longer capable of ever being made a dangerous instrument against the public liberty of their own country?

Too well, Sir, is that army likely to be instructed in all the duties required by an absolute monarch from a standing military force. Too clearly have the natural objests to which an arbitrary court must ever wish to direct the influence of a standing army been recognized and pointed out in the directions contained in the official note of the accredited ministers of the four allied courts, addressed to the Due De Richelieu. They "think it their duty,"—I quote the words of that memorable instrument,—"They think it their duty to give some explanation to his Excellency the due de Richelieu; as to the nature and extent of the powers attached to this command." They profess to "be very far from having any intention of employing: their troops in aid of the police or of the internal administration of France, or in any manner that might compromise, or interfere with, the full exercise of the royal authority of that country." What then is the nature, and what the extent, of the powers they propose? "in consideration of the high interest which they take in supporting the power of legitimate sovereigns, they promise to his most Christian majesty to support him with their arms against every revolutionary convulsion." But then it all ends, taking into consideration the doubts that may arise, and the difficulty of framing instructions sufficiently sweeping to meet every object in view, it ends in leaving it to the discretion of the illustrious commander of these troops to judge when, and how, the troops are to be employed,—directing that illustrious commander himself "to be in constant correspondence with the four allied powers, and to take through them any suggestions or requisitions which the court of France may in future wish to make to him." Gracious God, Sir, can any form of words speak plainer? Can any form of words more fully define the odious trade of a standing army in time of peace? Of the great and gallant commander of this ill-employed force, of that gallant army itself perish the Englishman that would be tempted to speak, but in terms of gratitude, and of respect. Illustrious in rank, in station, and in influence, but a thousand times more illustrious in the acts by which that rank, that station, and that influence, were won, the duke of Wellington deserved better of his country, that army deserved better of its country, than, after all the dangers it had confronted, all the toils it had undergone, all the glories it had achieved, to be reduced at length to the condition of the watchmen, the golfers, the executioners of the French government. What is the spirit, nay what are the terms, in which that army is instructed? To quell, to keep down, to punish, every act of the people by which they may strive in future to win (by which alone we ourselves, or any action ever succeeded, in winning), a free constitution from its rulers. To crush and blot out the popular part of the French government, to disfranchise the people, and, through all changes and chances, to assert, to vindicate, and to maintain, that principle long ago exploded in this country, but, now, in the nineteenth century, revived in France, of passive obedience, of nonresistance and the divine right of kings. And in this odious and profligate creed, in these triumphs of armed force over freedom, and over justice, a British army is to be instructed, practiced, and made the instrument, in order to prepare that army to return at the last, to be restored a numerous and valuable body to the great mass of the people of England. It is to return, after having been made party to an experiment, as it were, in corpore vili, of how far, when the morals of a great nation are destroyed, its pride may be insulted, its liberties subdued, and its government bowed under the fourfold yoke of a foreign confederacy.

I own, nevertheless, that it is not for the humiliation, for the grievances, suffered by the French nation, for all they have lost, and all they probably must yet endure, that I bear any sympathy with them. As an Englishman, I rejoice at their humiliation, as a moralist or as a philanthropist, I cannot pity their sufferings. Were that humiliation, or those sufferings, unmerited, even then, the gigantic danger by which I see my own country menaced, would pre-occupy every feeling, and pre-engage every effort? But I see no claim whatever that the French nation can lay to my sympathy, or even my commiseration. Thus much I cannot disguise, although in the expression, it may be my misfortune to differ from some whose authority is the most venerable to me.—Yet, for these very reasons, on account of the very disgust that I feel for all those qualities by which I think the French character is recognized, I deprecate, I protest against, dooming an English army for five years to scenes and to society, unparalleled, I trust, in the worst recesses of English depravity. To doctrines of political falsehood, to examples of private profligacy, almost unexampled, the one in the theory, the other in the practice, of all civilized regions, and of all civilized times.

From the temper and manners of the French I have all to fear, as to their influence on our army. A mean unprincipled prostration to power without enthusiasm, affection, or feeling, as its excuse. An abandonment of every tie, political, honourable, moral, and religious, without even that animal strength of character from which relaxation of morals is generally found to proceed. Profligate and profuse in profession, and yet overwhelmed by an unnatural apathy, cruel without energy, bigoted without religion, and bound by no common bond of social honour, but what may have been, for temporary objects, set up in some military code, or suggested at the discretion of some military despot. Such I fear to be, but too general and too truly, the vices attributable to the French character. I trust there are some and many exceptions.—God forbid that I should not believe that there are many exceptions.—Thus much however, I fears is but too truly and too generally to be predicated of the French character. At least such it has appeared to me, as exemplified in the conduct of every prominent party in that country. Of the two extremes of French party, the revolutionists on the one hand, and the ultra-royalists on the other, have by turns deceived, oppressed, and betrayed, each other and their country, while the government, weak, undecided, and faithless, violates its charter to the people, to set them an example of public fidelity, and privately punishes a notorious and convicted traitor, to teach them a lesson of public justice. It has long been the perverse destiny of France to flutter indeed around the sweets of justice, and of freedom, to brush them with her wings, but always, in the end, to settle, fatigued and exhausted, under the shadow of a despotism, which, whether of a directory, a consul, an emperor, or a king, seems almost congenial with their natural feelings and character.

But then we are asked, what is all this to us? What reason, nay what right, have we to criticize the interior administration of the French government? What have we to do with the injustice of French laws, or the oppression of French domestic policy? Nothing, I think, sir, under heaven. And had such been the impression acted on by his majesty's ministers, we should not have been called upon, for the vote of to-day. As Englishmen it can little concern us, in what manner a French king rules over his own people. Whether his acts be just or unjust,—whether his intents be wicked or charitable,—whether his measures wise or the reverse,—truth is still as great, final justice as irresistible, and providence as watchful over France as over the rest of the world. But with the opinion which I have taken the liberty to express as holding of the French nation and government, I cannot but rue the day in which ministers, illegally as I think, sacrificed so large a portion of the British army to the pollution of such habits and such example.

Sir, I am deeply anxious for the continuance of peace in Europe. I think that permanent peace is only to be purchased by shackling the arms of France. But, if there were no other means left to shackle the arms of France, I would not, even for peace, on the one hand sacrifice a British army to the influence of French example, nor, on the other, would I begin a system of security abroad, by a violation of constitution at home. "Aut propter vitam vivendi perdere causas." Compared, Sir, with such evils as I have described, (great as I grant would be the calamity, should the destinies of France be again wielded by an arm so powerful, by a genius so gigantic, or by au ambition so restless, as those of her late emperor, great as I grant would be the misery and confusion rekindled in the bosom of Europe, by a re-assertion in arms of the people's will against the existing government,) yet, compared I say with such evils as I have described, of how little importance it is to our true interests, what scenes of retributive bloodshed and devastation may again present themselves in France, or, still less, to what family or individual the misfortune may be decreed of ruling that unprincipled and degraded nation.

It cannot nevertheless be denied that there are advantages imaginable, as resulting out of our occupation of France, of sufficient importance to justify almost any sacrifices, short of the constitution. Circumstances certainly might be imagined, under which it might be worth while, at almost any rate, compatible always with the constitution, to uphold the influence of a dynasty, which we have enthroned, through so many chances and changes, and at the expense of so much blood and treasure. But then the question still returns.—As there are certain sacrifices more than commensurate with any advantages whatever, is this advantage of sufficient importance to justify the means proposed?—And again, might not this end have been as well accomplished, and better secured, by easier and less objectionable means? It may perhaps reasonably be thought that the securing the Bourbons upon the throne of their ancestors cannot but be an object of considerable importance to this country. The splendid and venerable antiquity of that line, of itself, sheds an imposing luster round the throne and its conations, while the mild and placid virtues so generally, and I believe justly, attributed to the king, but, above all, while the undoubted political weakness of the whole of his government, give the best earnest to Europe that, for years at least, France will neither have the inclination to rouse, the interest to prompt, nor the means to support, an aggressive system on her part.—But there are certainly sacrifices imaginable which even this object could not justify, and these sacrifices I think ministers have made.

With all the triumphs of this country at his back, with all the advantages which the high character, the commanding station, the glorious exertions, and splendid success of England could give him, the noble lord opposite had the duty assigned him of making peace with a conquered enemy.

An enemy whose resources lay at his feet,—whose territory awaited his allotment.—A power to be established and secured only by the depriving that gigantic state of the means which she had, for the last hundred years, employed for nothing but the disquieting and insulting her neighbors.—A peace, on whose security was to depend the tranquility, the safety, the independence, of Europe. What was it not in the power of the noble lord to do—(holding the tone and language which it was his duty as minister of this great and glorious country to hold among the potentates of Europe,) what was it not in his power to do? France lay naked and prostrate before him, surrounded still with the spoils of a century, and still girt with the instruments of that power which had twice enabled her to menace, and nearly to effect, the subjugation of the world. Lorain and Alsatian were prominent features both of her former spoliation, and of her present strength. Tracts of country, (the latter especially,) bound by no ties with France, either of habits, of prejudices, of interests, of religion, or even of language. Tracts of country peculiarly fruitful in the means of aggression, and against which it had long been found necessary for Europe to erect her strongest barrier. Can we look at the means which surrounded the noble lord on every side for curtailing the power of France, and insuring the permanent tranquility of Europe, and can we fail of seeing what, with these advantages, he might have done? Yet with this conquered, but still restless, enemy, with this enemy whose means were in the hands of the noble lord, of whose means Europe had been for the last hundred years striving in vain to disarm her, the noble lord concludes a peace, which, by his own showing, is so weak and insecure, that its security can only be obtained by an actual surrender of one of the most vital points of our own constitution.

Sir, if the noble lord tells us that these sacrifices are necessary,—if he tells us that, without them, peace could not be purchased or secured;—let me ask him under what circumstances, within the dispensations of Providence, peace can ever be secured without these sacrifices? Can the noble lord, however long and however brilliant may be the political career to which he aspires, ever look to the concluding a peace in a posture more miraculous in its advantages than this If not, does he mean to tell the British House of Commons that peace cannot, under whatever circumstances, be concluded, without in consequence letting loose on the constitution of England that many-headed monster—a standing army.

Sir, if I had not already exhausted, as I fear, too much of the time of the House, and trespassed too much on its indulgence, I might wish to call its attention to the means by which the British force, thus engaged for with France in this treaty, is to be maintained. This is however a point which it may yet be left open to us to. Discuss in voting the estimates for the year. But I cannot sit down without expressing a wish that, when that time shall arrive, this House may give a decided and a firm opinion on a measure, which, at once, throws an army of thirty thousand Englishmen into French pay, disposes of them as hirelings to a foreign nation, and for a sum which ministers have already told us is to be considered, not as the property of England, but as the droid of the Crown. Of this, Sir, I shall only now observe; that it places a large English army under the immediate influence of a foreign prince, subject only to the directions of this newly-recognized power, the European confederacy,—and entirely removed from within the control of British law and of the British parliament. If this force be within the spirit and purview of the constitution, then the annual vote of money is rendered useless as a security, the mutiny act is rendered useless as a security, and the Crown is at all times enabled, by negotiation with other princes, to vest, in their names, for its own use, an influence and a power, which our law has hitherto wisely professed to withhold from the Crown, excepting as conferred and authorized from time to time by the people represented in parliament. Sir, on all the grounds which I have mentioned,—on others which have been ably discussed and enforced by many gentlemen who have preceded me,—on every notion I have ever formed of English policy,—on every principle I have ever conceived of English constitutional law, as applicable to the question of to night, I must second by my vote the opinions I entertain of this treaty.

, in consequence of the lateness of the hour, and the number of members who yet wished to deliver their sentiments, moved the adjournment of the question to the following day, which was agreed to by the House.

The House adjourned at half-past one.