HEADS OF Mr. FRANCIS's SPEECH, ON THE 7TH OF MAY, 1793.

MR. FRANCIS ſaid, Mr. Speaker, I cannot but congratulate the friends of Parliamentary Reform, and the country in general, on the auſpicious open⯑ing of this debate. The three gentlemen, who have ſpoken firſt this day, Members of Parliament as re⯑ſpectable in point of character and ſituation as any who ſit here, and totally unconnected with any of the parties, by whom the preſent motion is ſupport⯑ed, have declared themſelves ſtrongly, though gene⯑rally, friends to the meaſure. I receive the decla⯑rations they have ſo honourably made, as a pledge of their principles, and an omen of ſucceſs. The [4] two firſt of theſe gentlemen have doubts about the time. They think we ought to wait for a more fa⯑vourable opportunity, when they ſhall be ready to concur with us. Undoubtedly it is for them to judge at what period they will act. I wiſh them only to recollect that, when this meaſure was introduced laſt year we were at peace with all the world, and the country was allowed to be in flouriſhing circum⯑ſtances. The queſtion put to us then was, why are you not ſatisfied with the advantages you enjoy? Why ſhould you wiſh to change or improve when all is well, and when apparently the people are con⯑tented? That argument will not do now; but the enemies of reform have another in readineſs to ſerve their preſent turn. They have clothes for all ſea⯑ſons. Since laſt year, the ſtate of the kingdom is completely reverſed. We are involved in a foreign war, and this war is attended already with uncom⯑mon domeſtic calamities. Is this a time to think of changes in the Conſtitution? for ſo they are pleaſed to call every meaſure that propoſes to correct abuſes, by reverting to principles. Is this a time to diſturb or agitate the minds of the people, or to weaken the hands of Government? Theſe groſs contradictions ought to defeat one another. It is not fair to ſuffer ſuch hoſtile and inconſiſtent arguments to act in concert, as they do, againſt one and the ſame mea⯑ſure. With reſpect to times and ſeaſons, I ſhall only ſay that, to minds, unwilling to do right, all times are equally inconvenient and improper. To him, who diſlikes the voyage, all the winds of Heaven are equally unpropitious. He looks for nothing but pretences to avoid it. The honourable and wor⯑thy repreſentative of Yorkſhire^* has declared him⯑ſelf frankly, and without qualification or reſerve. He ſays he is a friend to a Reform of Parliament [5] now and at all times, becauſe it is now as neceſſary and as ſafe as it can be at any other period. But, if the war be an immediate objection to the attempt, he truſts that objection will not laſt long, that it will not be permitted to ſubſiſt any longer to the ruin of the country. He conſiders the war, as I do, as in itſelf a miſchief enormous. But, when the authors of it, not contented with the calamities inſeparable from war, make it a pretence for objecting to the only meaſure that can reſtore and preſerve the Con⯑ſtitution, the only one that can prevent ſuch ruinous wars in future, then indeed it is time to remove this pernicious obſtacle one of our way, and put an end to this treacherous objection. The honourable Ba⯑ronet, who ſpoke laſt, aſſures us that our ideas of correcting abuſes are viſionary and impracticable; that they are inconſiſtent with that corrupted ſtate of manners and morals, which riches and luxury have introduced into the nation, that the country is too great a merchant to be honeſt, that we are too commercial for our virtues, and this he ſays in the Houſe of Commons of Great Britain, in the pre⯑ſence of the repreſentatives of the firſt commercial nation in the world; and this he ſays, while his own perſonal independence ſtands on the poſſeſſion of a fortune derived from the very ſources of induſ⯑try and commerce. [Here Mr. Francis was called to order by Sir William Young.] I do aſſure the honour⯑able Baronet, I had no thoughts of giving him of⯑fence. I ſhall therefore content myſelf with ob⯑ſerving generally, what I am convinced is true, that commerce in itſelf, and conducted on its true prin⯑ciples, as it has been in this country, excepting al⯑ways one ſpurious and diſhonourable branch of it, has no tendency to corrupt or degrade the character of the people who are engaged in it; but that, on the contrary, by making them apply their faculties to active occupations, it keeps them out of vice, [6] and that in proportion as commerce expands her operations, their real tendency is to enlarge, to en⯑lighten, and to improve the mind. But, if the fact were otherwiſe, what concluſion would he draw from it? Would he have us abandon the reſources of our trade? Would he riſk the loſs or diminution of thoſe revenues, which alone can ſupport the preſent war, in order to mend our morals? It may poſſibly be true, as he ſays, that we are too commercial for our virtues; but I am afraid that our preſent ſitua⯑tion calls for every contribution, with which com⯑merce can ſupply us, and that neither the virtues nor the reſources of the landed intereſt will be ſuf⯑ficient to enable us to encounter the expences, the debts, and the diſtreſſes, which the preſent perni⯑cious war is likely to bring along with it. But theſe incidental reflections have carried me too far from the queſtion before us. It is time I ſhould return to the purpoſe, for which I roſe.

Sir, I voted againſt the adjournment laſt night, for other reaſons, but principally becauſe I was de⯑ſirous of adverting to ſome paſſages in a very inge⯑nious ſpeech made by a right honourable friend of mine^*, while they were freſh in my memory. How⯑ever, as this is a continued debate, I believe I ſhall be ſtrictly in order, in referring to what he ſaid, as far as my memory will ſerve me. I know myſelf and him too well, to think of entering into a competition of any kind with my right honourable friend. Be⯑tween him and me, a hoſtile conteſt, I am ſure, can never happen. My intention is, not to provoke an unfriendly difference, but to ſolicit an amicable diſ⯑cuſſion, ſuch as thoſe with which he his often fa⯑voured me, on other ſubj [...]cts, and in happier times. If I ſhould appear to queſtion his judgement, to com⯑bat his opinions, or, in this ſingle inſtance, and on this occaſion only, to undervalue his eloquence, no [7] man, I truſt, will ſuſpect me of the folly of pretend⯑ing to an equality with him. The rank and qualifi⯑cations of men ſhould be meaſured by their preten⯑ſions. To imagination or eloquence, I have none. But I will not deſcend ſo low as to profeſs that I have no judgement, no judicial faculty whatever to examine or pronounce upon the genius and eloquence of others. It would be a poor affectation to ſtultify myſelf for the ſake of a compariſon in favour of any man.

I cannot follow my right honourable friend in the endleſs excurſions of his rapid imagination. Some⯑times he ſoars ſo high into the regions of the air, that it would require the eye and the wing of an eagle to purſue him. Then down he drops, with equal rapidity, from Heaven to earth, to the depths of the ſea, and to the waters under the earth. I cannot fly, nor ſwim, nor dive as he does. But if, for a moment, he will condeſcend to reſtrain the prae⯑ternatural activity of his mind, or reſerve it for oc⯑caſions, in which fancy ought properly to predomi⯑nate over reaſon,—if he will deſcend from theſe al⯑titudes, and meet us on plain level ground, for the purpoſe of diſcuſſing a plain terreſtrial queſtion, not of abſtract ſpeculation, not of theories untried, but of practical prudence; then, Sir, he ſhall find me as ready to be guided by his wiſdom, as ever I have been to liſten to his eloquence. On this ſubject, of all others, he is moſt ſtrictly bound by his duties to ſatisfy my underſtanding. On the preſent occaſion, in my judge⯑ment, he has not filled up the dimenſions of his mind. He has been eloquent and brilliant; but as to the purpoſe, and buſineſs, and duty of the debate, he has totally failed. On this head, I have many com⯑plaints to make of him; but he may be ſure that I ſhall never appeal againſt him to any man but him⯑ſelf. In the firſt place, then, I accuſe my right ho⯑nourable friend, in his own Court, of bad taſte in [8] the compoſition of ſome of his late ſpeeches, particu⯑larly the laſt. Let the occaſion, the ſubject, the ar⯑gument, be what it may, he has but one way of treating it. War and peace, the repair of a turnpike, the better government of nations, the direction of a canal, and the ſecurity of the conſtitution, are all alike in his contemplation. The French revolution is an anſwer to every thing; the French revolution is his everlaſting theme, the univerſal remedy, the grand ſpecific, the never-failing panacea, the per⯑petual burden of his ſong; and with this he treats us from day to day; a cold, flat, inſipid haſh of the ſame diſh, perpetually ſerved up to us in different ſhapes, till at laſt, with all his cookery, the taſte revolts, the palate ſickens at it. Has he no choice of topics? Has he loſt the fertility of his mind? Are the reſources of his imagination dried up or ex⯑hauſted? Has he no way of oppoſing a reform of corruptions and abuſes in our own ſyſtem, but by telling us inceſſantly what miſchiefs have been done by madmen in another country, acting in circum⯑ſtances totally different from ours! Has he no other way to convince and ſatisfy ſober Engliſhmen, de⯑bating on a great and ſerious intereſt of their own, but by warning them againſt the folly and wicked⯑neſs of the French! Let me intreat my right ho⯑nourable friend, if his wit and wiſdom be fairly worn out in the ſervice, to conſole us at leaſt with a little variety. I know he is a privileged Perſon; I know with what favour he is heard at pre⯑ſent. Yet, after all, it is not generous in him to perſecute, as he does, ſo patient an audience. But theſe are trifles. I have a heavier charge againſt my right honourable friend, of which he himſelf ſhall be the judge; for the confidence I repoſe in his ho⯑nour and in his virtue is unbounded. I accuſe him of ſuppreſſion of evidence in the very ſtatement of his own favourite argument, of palpable partiality and injuſtice to us, to the French, and to himſelf. [9] The eminence of his mind ought to give him a commanding view of every part of every ſubject, to which he applies it. If the French revolution be his theme, I expect it from his perſonal honour, I demand it from his juſtice, that he will bring the whole of the queſtion impartially before us. I can⯑not ſuffer him to confine the comprehenſive powers of his ſuperior underſtanding to narrow imperfect views of ſo great a ſubject of meditation and inſtruc⯑tion. I deny that there is any fair, any rational concluſion to be drawn from the circumſtances of the French revolution to the ſituation of this country. The people of England neither want the warning nor the leſſon. But let him ſtate it ſo, if he pleaſes. Give us the example, but give it to us entire. Is it fair, is it honeſt, is it truly inſtructive, to inſiſt upon the miſchiefs, which the French revolution has pro⯑duced, and to keep out of our ſight the original enormous miſchief, which produced the revolution? What uſe, what benefit, what leſſon, am I to derive from a bare knowledge of the effect, if the cauſe of that effect be carefully concealed from me? Let him bring the caſe completely before us, and then I ſhall leave him at liberty to load whatever part of it he may think the moſt odious in the inſtance, or moſt dan⯑gerous in the example. He cannot paint to me the horrible crimes and calamities with which the French revolution has been attended, without carrying back my mind to the ſource and origin of thoſe evils—to that infernal deſpotiſm, under whoſe rod a mild and generous people have been perverted into a nation of ſavages. Such was the ſchool, the maſter, and the education. What ſcholars did he expect from it? If he ſtates the premiſes fairly, and argues regularly from them, I care not to what length he carries the deduction; his concluſion muſt be mine. The fruit has been bitter indeed, and blaſted be the tree that produced it! Theſe are the grand comprehenſive [10] leſſons, which I expected from the genius and wiſ⯑dom of my right honourable friend. In me, it is no flattery, no compliment to acknowledge the in⯑tellectual ſuperiority of his mind. He knows how little I value theſe advantages in themſelves. The abilities of eminent men are their weapons, not their merits: let us ſee what uſe they make of them.—How has it happened, how was it poſſible, that of all the important reflections, ſuggeſted by the events which have happened in France, the only one really applicable to the inſtruction of thoſe whom it concerns in this country, ſhould have eſcaped him! I mean to ſtate it in the form of a ſuppoſition only, and leave the inference to be drawn and applied by every man to his own uſe.

We have ſeen the conſequence in France of driving a ſubmiſſive people to the violent application of ex⯑treme remedies to extreme diſorders. Let me aſk my right honourable friend, or any man, who knows what the internal ſtate of France was for a few years before the late convulſions, whether if, at any earlier period, ſuppoſe for example at the accceſſion of Louis the Sixteenth, there had been wiſdom and virtue enough in the conſtituted powers and orders of the kingdom, in the Miniſters of the executive power, in the nobility, in the clergy, in the Parliaments, to have granted ſome reaſonable, though moderate relief to the people, to have corrected ſome of the moſt intolerable abuſes in the Government, to have ſurrendered ſome part of their own invidious, op⯑preſſive, and very often uſeleſs privileges with a good grace—whether, in that caſe, he does not think it probable that the ruin, which their obſtinate adherence to the eſtabliſhed ſyſtem has brought on themſelves, and on their country, would have been prevented? For myſelf I can affirm, that it is not poſſible for the human mind to feel, on ſuch a ſubject, a conviction more decided and complete [11] than I do, that, if the prudent conceſſions I allude to, had been made in time, the monarchy of France at this hour would have ſtood untouched, and that the heirarchy, the nobility, and the law, inſtead of being cruſhed and demoliſhed as they have been, would have remained in their places unmoved, with no material diminution either of profit or ſplendor, and certainly with greater ſecurity than ever. They yielded at laſt, but at laſt it was too late. Upon us, I hope, the example of their conduct and its conſe⯑quences will not be thrown away.

I have impeached the taſte and juſtice of my right honourable friend. But I have another appeal to make to his perſonal ſpirit, which I know to be as high as belongs to any man. Let me intreat him to conſider, whether it be conſiſtent with his character, to exhibit ſo much courage, where there is ſo little provocation or occaſion for it. On the crimes com⯑mitted in France it is an eaſy matter to enlarge: but to what purpoſe? Who is there in this Houſe to be convinced or converted on that ſubject? He may flouriſh his ſword in perfect ſafety on this ground, as all men may do who have nobody to contend with. Certainly he will meet with no oppoſition, but on the contrary, the moſt hearty concurrence in me and every perſon with whom I have the honour of acting in this place. With all his imagination I defy him to conceive, with all his eloquence I defy him to ex⯑preſs, a deeper ſenſation of diſguſt and deteſtation, than all of us have felt at the abominable ſcenes which have lately been exhibited at Paris.

My right honourable friend muſt now permit me to lay another inſtance of injuſtice to his charge,—extraordinary indeed in its nature, though not very important in its effect; and this ſhall be the laſt.—The Houſe have heard him, with every pleaſure that belongs to aſtoniſhment, while he ranged over the whole circuit of human ſcience, and glided through [12] every region of the moral as well as the intellectual world; through ethics, mechanics, pneumatics, hydraulics, geography, mathematics, aſtronomy, and logic; through all the polite arts, of ſwimming, flying, burning, ſkaiting, diving; the learning of his library, and the meditations of his cloſet. On one ſubject alone he has ſtudiouſly maintained a moſt delicate reſerve. The unfortunate motion on your table, as far as I am able to recollect, has never been bleſt with a ſingle moment of his attention. On the actual ſubject of the debate, you may find him every where but at home. One would have thought, Sir, that the power or invention could have added nothing to the curioſity of this proceeding. Other men, perhaps, with induſtry and reſolution, might have ſtated the premiſes, and applied them to the queſtion as accurately as he has done. But it was reſerved for the genius of my honourable friend to diſcover a connection between thoſe premiſes, and the conclu⯑ſion he has drawn from them. After giving the Houſe a ſpecimen of his ſkill in every department of abſtract ſcience, of the depth of his theories and the extent of his ſpeculations, without beſtowing a ſingle glance on the ſimple queſtion, whether we ſhall or ſhall not appoint a Committee to conſider the petition, my honourable friend turns ſhort upon us, and ſays, Look you, gentlemen, I am a plain practical man. I take things as they are. My opinions are founded on experience. It is you, philoſophers, you theoriſts, you metaphyſicians, who have done all the miſchief, and would do much more, if you were not counteracted by ſimple, ſolid, experimental underſtandings, ſuch as mine!—I believe, Sir, I may venture to ſay, that a more noble inſtance, than this, of bold and vigorous incon⯑gruity, a more intrepid diſparate, as I think the Spaniards call it, is not to be found in modern or ancient eloquence.

[13]In the courſe of this debate ſome remarks have been made on the petition on your table, and ſome invidi⯑ous inquiries about the perſons who have ſigned it. Allow me to anſwer them by ſtating the fact. Un⯑doubtedly, Sir, if they, who have prepared this pe⯑tition, had thought that the authority of numbers would be uſeful to ſtrengthen the remonſtrances it contains, or to inforce the prayer of it, they might eaſily have contrived to get it ſigned by many thou⯑ſands. But, if they had done ſo, what would have been the conſequence? We ſhould immediately have been told, and I think with reaſon, You have brought us a long, laboured, intricate repreſentation, ſigned by multitudes, who could not poſſibly have read it, or known what they were ſigning. Foreſeeing this reflection, we have taken a wiſer courſe. The petition is ſigned by a few: but by no man, who has not read it, who does not underſtand the contents, and is not convinced of the truth of it. The quality of the petitioners too, I preſume, will be thought to entitle them to attention. It is not that I regard theſe factitious diſtinctions my⯑ſelf; but they, who do, may be aſſured that the ma⯑jority of the petitioners I know, and all of them, I believe, are gentlemen who, in point of rank and for⯑tune, are on a level with the generality of this Houſe, and that, if I had not been precluded by my ſituation in Parliament, I ſhould have been proud of ſigning it myſelf, and even have claimed it as the poſt of ho⯑nour to have taken my ſtation among the foremoſt in the liſt. I have no earthly perſonal intereſt in the ſuc⯑ceſs of the meaſure. On the contrary, the agitation of this queſtion has been to me the ſource of infinite perſonal uneaſineſs; of coldneſs, diſtance, and ſepa⯑ration in private life, where once the warmeſt friend⯑ſhip and affection have ſubſiſted; but my heart and mind go with the meaſure, and, while there is hope, I never ſhall abandon it.

[14]An honourable gentleman^*, I think, obſerved laſt night, that, in fact, there was no occaſion for ſo ge⯑neral a remedy as that which the petition aimed at. He did not deny that corruption exiſted in the election of the Houſe of Commons; but in part, he defended the practice as a thing tolerable in itſelf, and for the reſt, he aſſured us, that the worſt part of the abuſes in queſtion were gradually decreaſing; that, as the inſtances occurred, they would be ſucceſſively cor⯑rected, and that, let the evil be what it would, this was the beſt way of removing it. That honourable gentleman will pardon me, if, with longer experience and obſervation of the ſubject, I differ from him about the fact. I affirm, with certain knowledge, that cor⯑ruption has been for many years, and is in a ſtate of progreſſion; that is, from the Revolution to this hour. How it ſtands now, I need not attempt to explain; for I am in the company of thoſe, who underſtand the ſubject as well as I do. But I beg leave to ſtate to the honourable gentleman what the ſituation of parliamentary bribery and corruption was in this coun⯑try about twenty years ago. The inſtance is curious and the authority unqueſtionable. I take it from a letter written by the late Earl of Cheſterfield to his ſon, never intended to be made public, and uncon⯑nected with party views of any kind, even thoſe of the time he lived in.

Perhaps it will be ſaid, the times are mended. Sir, for myſelf I can only proteſt, that I have ſome reaſon to think otherwiſe. So far from any fall having taken place in the price of boroughs, I believe it never was higher than it has been lately, and that the moſt unfair advantages have been taken by dealers and chapmen, of cuſtomers in particular ſituations.—I have heard of a worthy gentleman who, after having made his bar⯑gain for five thouſand pounds, without being known to the other party, was charged ſix thouſand as ſoon as his name was diſcovered, and merely becauſe the proprietor of the commodity would not take leſs from an honeſt gentleman, who had exiſted in the Eaſt Indies. You will allow, Sir, that the worthy perſon I allude to was hardly treated in that affair.—I give you this inſtance, out of many, as a proof of the actual ſtate of the abuſe. You ſee, by Lord Cheſterfield's letter, how the caſe ſtood twenty years ago. Do you ſeriouſly believe that the purity of bo⯑rough mongers, and the morals of the electors of Great Britain, are mended ſince that time? that the com⯑modity is not ſo ſcarce, or the demand for it not ſo conſiderable as it has been heretofore? On that point, I can give you nothing but my own opinion and con⯑viction, and I ſhall give it to you now, in the ſolemn adopted language of Parliament, that corruption has increaſed, is increaſing, and ought to be diminiſhed.