Lord Chatham, who in early life was drawn under the influence of the Opposition leaders by their extraordinary talents and specious pretensions to patriotism, publicly declared, at a later period, that he had changed his views of the principal measures of Walpole.

But while posterity have thus decided for Walpole, on the main questions in d bate between him and the Opposition, they have been far from awarding to him the honors of a great statesman. He undoubtedly rendered a most important service to his country, by the skill and firmness with which he defeated the machinations of the Jacobites, and held the house of Brunswick on the throne. It was not without reason that Queen Caroline, on her dying bed, commended, not Walpole to the favor of the King, but the King to the protection and support of Walpole. Still, it is apparent, from the whole tenor of his conduct, that in this, as in every other case, he was governed by the absorbing passion of his life, the love of office. "He understood," says Lord Campbell, "the material interests of the country, and, so far as was consistent with the retention of power, he was desirous of pursuing them." We have here the key to every measure of his administration-"the retention of power!" It was this that dictated his favorite maxim, ne quieta moveas, because he felt that change, however useful, might weaken his hold on office. Hence his scandalous treatment of the Dissenters, whom he deluded for years with solemn promises of deliverance from the galling yoke of the Test Act, and thus held them as firm supporters of his ministry in the most trying seasons; but when driven at last to say, "When will the time come?" he answered, as he always meant, "Never!" He was afraid of the High Church party; and he chose rather to break his word, than to venture on what he acknowledged to be a simple act of justice. It was so in every thing. He would run no personal risk to secure the most certain and valuable improvements. He would do nothing to provide against remote dangers, if it cost any great and immediate sacrifice. He therefore did nothing for the advancement of English institutions. He was the minister of the Present, not of the Future. His conduct in respect to the Spanish war furnishes a complete exhibition of his character, and has covered his memory with indelible disgrace. He knew it to be unnecessary and unjust "the most unprovoked and unjustifiable war," as a great writer has observed, "in the English annals." Any other minister, rather than be forced into it by the popular clamor, would have instantly resigned. But in the words of Lord Mahon, who was disposed, in general, to judge favorably of Walpole, "He still clung unworthily to his darling office; thus proving that a love of power, and not a love of peace (as has been pretended), was his ruling principle. It was a sin against light. No man had a clearer view of the impending mischief and misery of the Spanish war. On the very day of the Declaration, when joyful peals were heard from every steeple of the city, the minister muttered, They may ring the bells now; before long they will be wringing their hands.' Yet of this mischief and misery he could stoop to be the instrument!"

The selfish and temporizing policy of Walpole, on this occasion, proved his ruin. The war, which he never intended should take place, and for which he had, therefore, made no preparation, proved disastrous to the English; and the Opposition had the art to turn the popular odium with double violence upon the minister, for the failure of a measure which they had themselves forced upon him. The circumstances attending his fall from power will be detailed hereafter, in connection with his speech on a motion for his removal from office. He resigned all his employ ments on the 11th of February, 1742, and died about three years after, just as he was entering his sixty-ninth year.

The age of Walpole was an age rather of keen debate than impassioned clo quence If we except Lord Chatham, whose greatest efforts belong to a later pe

riod, we shall find but little in the leading orators of the day that was lofty or im posing. They were emphatically business speakers, eagerly intent upon their object but destitute of any principles or feelings, which could raise them above the level of the most selfish minds, engaged in a desperate struggle for office and power. We find, therefore, in their speeches, no large views, no generous and elevated sentiments, none of those appeals to the higher instincts of our nature, which are the crowning excellence of our English oratory. Any thing of this kind would have been laughed down by Walpole, as sheer affectation. Even patriotism, which is too often a limited and selfish virtue, he regarded as mere pretense. "Patriots," says he, "spring up like mushrooms! I could raise fifty of them within the twenty-four hours. I have raised many of them in a single night. It is but refusing to gratify an unreasonable or an insolent demand, and up starts a patriot!" The reasonings of that day were brief and pointed; with no attempts at philosophy; with but little breadth of illustration; with scarcely any disposition to discuss a subject in its principles. Parliamentary speaking was literally "a keen encounter of the wits," in which the ball of debate was tossed to and fro between men of high talent, who perfectly understood each other's motives, and showed infinite dexterity in twisting facts and arguments to serve a purpose. It was the maxim of the day, that every thing was fair in politics.-The best speeches abounded in wit and sarcasm, in sly insinuations or cutting invective, all thrown off with a light, bold, confident air, in racy English, and without any apparent effort. The language of debate approached as near to that of actual conversation, as the nature of the topics, and the flow of continuous discourse, would permit. It was direct and idiomatic; the language of men who had lived in the society of Addison and Swift; and who endeavored to unite the ease and simplicity of the one with the pungency and force of the other. It is a style of speaking which has always been a favorite one in the British Senate; and notwithstanding the examples of a loftier strain of eloquence in that body since the days of Chatham, it is still (though connected with more thorough discussion) the style which is cultivated by a majority of speakers down to the present day in both houses of Parliament.

WYNDHAM AND WALPOLE ON THE SEPTENNIAL ACT.

INTRODUCTION.

THE Septennial Act was passed in 1716, extending the duration of Parliaments from three to seven years. By an extraordinary stretch of power, the Act was made applicable to the Parliament that passed , whose members, by their own vote, thus added four years to their tenure of office. This they did on the ground that the nation had just emerged from a dangerous rebellion, and that the public mind was still in so agitated a state, as to render the exciting scenes of a general election hazardous to the public safety. Whatever may be thought of this plea (and perhaps most men at the present day would unite with Mr. Hallam in justifying the measure), no one can doubt that the provisions of the Septennial Act, in respect to subsequent Parliaments, were strictly legal.

This Act has now been in operation eighteen years; and Bolingbroke, who planned the leading measures of the Opposition, saw that a motion to repeal it would embarrass the ministry, and gratify at once the landholders and the mob. The landholders, who were almost to a man Jacobites or Tories, would be zealous for the repeal, since they were not only indignant at the Act, as originally directed against them. selves, but had found by experience, that it was greatly for their interest to have frequent elections. The influence they possessed over their tenantry, could be exerted at any moment, and cost them little or nothing. This influence the Whigs in power could overcome only at an enormous expense. Every general election was, therefore, a scene of general licentiousness and bribery, to which the common people looked forward as their harvest season; and so vast was the pecuniary sacrifice to which the Whigs were thus subjected, that they could never endure it if the elections were of frequent occurrence. Thus, according to Bolingbroke's calculations, if the Act was repealed, the Whigs would be driven from power; if it was not repealed, they would be loaded with the resentment of all classes, from the highest to the lowest.

There was a part of the Opposition, however, who were delicately situated in respect to this Act. It was a measure of their own. They had argued and voted for it as essential to the public security. Such was the case with Pulteney and most of the disaffected Whigs; and it was a long time before Bolingbroke succeeded in wheedling or driving them into his plan. At last, however, party discipline and the desire of office prevailed. The motion was made on the 13th of March, 1734, and gave rise to one of the most celebrated debates in English history.

It was on this occasion that Sir William Wyndham, the leader of the Tories in the House, delivered what was undoubtedly his master-piece of eloquence. This speech, however, is remembered with interest at the present day, only on account of the altercation to which it gave rise between him and Walpole. He closed with a bitter personal attack on the minister, and thus drew forth a reply of equal bitterness, which concluded the debate. In this reply, however, Walpole, instead of retaliating upon Wyndham, turned adroitly upon Bolingbroke as the real author of all the maneuvers against him; and while he thus threw contempt on Wyndham, by treating him as the mere mouth-piece of another, he inflicted a castigation upon Bolingbroke which, for stinging effect and perfect adherence to truth, has rarely been surpassed in the British Parliament. This, in connection with the attack of Wyndham, will now be given; and the reader will observe how dexterously Walpole, in going on, as he does, briefly to defend the Septennial Act, argues with the Tories on their own ground; showing that frequent Parliaments serve to extend and perpetuate the democratic principle in the English Constitution—a thing against which every true Tory must feel himself bound to contend.

SIR WILLIAM WYNDHAM'S' ATTACK

ON SIR ROBERT WALPOLE, DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS ON A MOTION FOR THE REPEAL OF THE SEPTENNIAL ACT, MARCH 13, 1734.

[Mr. Wyndham, after dwelling on a variety | tle interest at the present day, concluded in the of arguments (chiefly in reply to others), which, following manner :] from a change of circumstances, are of but lit1 Wyndham was born in 1687, of an ancient family, and was heir to one of the richest baronetcies in England. He entered Parliament at the age of twenty-one, and immediately attached himself to Bolingbroke, under whose instruction he soon became expert in all the arts of oratory and intrigue.

We have been told, sir, in this House, that no faith is to be given to prophecies, therefore I shall not pretend to prophesy; but I may suppose a case, which, though it has not yet happened, may possibly happen. Let us then suppose, sir, a man abandoned to all notions of vir tue of honor, of no great family, and of but a

mean fortune, raised to be chief minister of state by the concurrence of many whimsical events; afraid or unwilling to trust any but creatures of his own making, and most of them equally abandoned to all notions of virtue or honor; ignorant of the true interest of his country, and consulting nothing but that of enriching and aggrandizing himself and his favorites; in foreign affairs, trusting none but those whose education makes it impossible for them to have such knowledge or such qualifications, as can either be of service to their country, or give any weight or credit to their negotiations. Let us suppose the true interest of the nation, by such means, neglected or misunderstood; her honor and credit lost; her trade insulted; her merchants plundered; and her sailors murdered; and all these things overlooked, only for fear his administration should be endangered. Suppose him, next, possessed of great wealth, the plunder of the nation, with a Parliament of his own choosing, most of their seats purchased, and their votes bought at the expense of the public treasure. In such a Parliament, let us suppose attempts made to inquire into his conduct, or to relieve the nation from the distress he has brought upon it; and when lights proper for attaining those ends are called for, not perhaps for the information of the particular gentlemen who call for them, but because nothing can be done in a parliamentary way, till these things be in a proper way laid before Parliament; suppose these lights refused, these reasonable requests rejected by a corrupt majority of his creatures, whom he retains in daily pay, or engages in his particular interest, by granting them those posts and places which ought never

to be given to any but for the good of the pub lic. Upon this scandalous victory, let us sup. pose this chief minister pluming himself in defiances, because he finds he has got a Parliament, like a packed jury, ready to acquit him at all adventures. Let us further suppose him arrived to that degree of insolence and arrogance, as to domineer over all the men of ancient families, all the men of sense, figure, or fortune in the nation, and as he has no virtue of his own, ridiculing it in others, and endeavoring to destroy or corrupt it in all.

I am still not prophesying, sir; I am only supposing; and the case I am going to suppose I hope never will happen. But with such a minister and such a Parliament, let us suppose a prince upon the throne, either for want of true information, or for some other reason, ignorant and unacquainted with the inclinations and the interest of his people; weak, and hurried away by unbounded ambition and insatiable avarice. This case, sir, has never yet happened in this nation. I hope, I say, it will never exist. But as it is possible it may, could there any greater curse happen tó a nation, than such a prince on the throne, advised, and solely advised, by such a minister, and that minister supported by such a Parliament ? The nature of mankind can not be altered by human laws; the existence of such a prince or such a minister we can not prevent by act of Parliament; but the existence of such a Parliament I think we may. And as such a Parliament is much more likely to exist, and may do more mischief while the septennial law re mains in force, than if it were repealed, therefore I am most heartily for the repeal of it

SPEECH

OF SIR ROBERT WALPOLE ON A MOTION TO REPEAL THE SEPTENNIAL BILL, DELIVERED A THE HOUSE OF COMMONS, 1734, IN REPLY TO SIR WILLIAM WYNDHAM.

SIR, I do assure you, I did not intend to have troubled you on this occasion. But such incidents now generally happen toward the end of our debates, nothing at all relating to the sub-plied with all their desires. ject; and gentlemen make such suppositions (meaning some person, or perhaps, as they say, no person now in being), and talk so much of wicked ministers, domineering ministers, ministers pluming themselves in defiances-which terms, and such like, have been of late so much made use of in this House-that if they really mean nobody eitner in the House or out of it, yet it must be supposed they at least mean to call upon some gentleman in this House to make them a reply. I hope, therefore, I may be allowed to draw a picture in my turn; and I may likewise say, that I do not mean to give a description of any particular person now in being. When gentlemen talk of ministers abandoned to ail sense of virtue or honor, other gentlemen may, I am sure, with equal justice, and, I think, more justly, speak of anti-ministers and mockpatriots, who never had either virtue or honor; bat in the whole course of their opposition are

actuated only by motives of envy, and of resentment against those who have disappointed them in their views, or may not perhaps have com

But now, sir, let me too suppose, and the House being cleared, I am sure no one that hears me can come within the description of the person I am to suppose. Let us suppose in this, or in some other unfortunate country, an antiminister, who thinks himself a person of so great and extensive parts, and of so many eminent qualifications, that he looks upon himself as the only person in the kingdom capable to conduct the public affairs of the nation; and therefore christening every other gentleman who has the honor to be employed in the administration by the name of Blunderer. Suppose this fine gentleman lucky enough to have gained over to his party some persons really of fine parts, of ancient families, and of great fortunes, and others of desperate views, arising from disappointed and malicious hearts; all these gentlemen, with re spect to their political behavior, moved by him, and by him solely; all they say, either in private