Though the question was thus left undetermined for the moment, it was revived twenty-two years afterward, when the same sovereign was attacked by a recurrence of the same disease, and the existing ministry, then presided over by Mr. Perceval, brought forward a Regency Bill almost identical with that which on this occasion had been framed by Mr. Pitt; and the Opposition, led by Lord Grey and Sir Samuel Romilly, raised as nearly as possible the same objections to it which were now urged by Fox and his adherents. The ministerial measure was, however, again supported by considerable majorities; so that the course proposed by Mr. Pitt on this occasion may be said to have received the sanction of two Parliaments assembled and sitting under widely different circumstances; and may, therefore, be taken as having established the rule which will be adopted if such an emergency should, unfortunately, arise hereafter. And indeed, though the propriety of Pitt's proposals has, as was natural, been discussed by every historical and political writer who has dealt with the history of that time, there has been a general concurrence of opinion in favor of that statesman's measure. Lord John Russell, while giving a document, entitled "Materials for a Pamphlet," in which he recognizes the handwriting of Lord Loughborough, and which "contains the grounds of the opinion advanced by him, and adopted by Mr. Fox, that, from the moment the two Houses of Parliament declared the King unable to exercise his royal authority, a right to exercise that authority attached to the Prince of Wales," does not suppress his own opinion of the "erroneousness of this or any other doctrine that attributes to any individual or any constituted authority existing in the state a strict or legal right to claim or to dispose of the royal authority while the King is alive, but incapable of exercising it."[120]
The only writer, as far as I am aware, who advocates the opposite view is Lord Campbell, who, after quoting the speech of Lord Camden, from which extracts have been made, comments on it, and on the whole transaction, in the following terms: "From the course then adopted and carried through, I presume it is now to be considered part of our constitution that if ever, during the natural life of the sovereign, he is unable by mental disease personally to exercise the royal functions, the deficiency is to be supplied by the two Houses of Parliament, who, in their discretion, will probably elect the heir-apparent Regent, under such restrictions as they may please to propose, but who may prefer the head of the ruling faction, and at once vest in him all the prerogatives of the crown. On the two occasions referred to in the reign of George III., the next heir being at enmity with the King and his ministers, this was considered the loyal and courtly doctrine; and, from its apparent advancement of the rights of Parliament, there was no difficulty in casting odium on those who opposed it. But I must avow that my deliberate opinion coincides with that of Burke, Fox, and Erskine, who pronounced it to be unsupported by any precedent, and to be in accordance with the principles of the Polish, not the English, monarchy. The two Houses of Parliament would be the proper tribunal to pronounce that the sovereign is unable to act; but then, as if he were naturally as well as civilly dead, the next heir ought of right to assume the government as Regent, ever ready to lay it down on the sovereign's restoration to reason, in the same way as our Lady Victoria would have returned to a private station if, after her accession, there had appeared posthumous issue of William IV. by his queen. It is easy to point out possible abuses by the next heir as Regent, to the prejudice of the living sovereign; but there may be greater abuses of the power of election imputed to the two Houses, whereby a change of dynasty might be effected. I conceive, therefore, that the Irish Parliament[121] in 1789 acted more constitutionally in acknowledging the right of the next heir, in scouting the fiction of a commission or royal assent from the insane sovereign, and in addressing the Prince of Wales to take on himself the government as Regent."
Though the sneers at the possibility of Parliament preferring "the head of the ruling faction" to the heir-apparent be hardly consistent with the impartial candor which is one of the most imperative duties of an historical critic, and though the allusion to the principles of the Polish monarchy be not very intelligible, yet no one will refuse to attach due weight to the deliberate opinion of one who won for himself so high a professional reputation as Lord Campbell. But, with all respect to his legal rank, we may venture to doubt whether he has not laid down as law, speaking as a literary man and an historian, a doctrine which he would not have entertained as a judge. For, if we consider the common law of the kingdom, it is certain that, in the case of subjects, if a man becomes deranged, his next heir does not at once enter on his property "as if he were naturally as well as civilly dead." And if, as in such cases is notoriously the practice, the Court of Chancery appoints a guardian of the lunatic's property, analogy would seem to require that the Houses of Parliament, as the only body which can possibly claim authority in such a matter, should exercise a similar power in providing for the proper management of the government to that which the law court would exercise in providing for the proper management of an estate; and that, therefore, the principles of constitutional[122] statesmanship, which is deeply interested in upholding the predominant authority of Parliament, must justify the assertion of the ministers that the two Houses had the entire and sole right to make regulations for the government of the kingdom during the incapacity of the sovereign; and that the next heir, even when a son of full age, can have no more right to succeed to his father's royal authority in his lifetime than, if that father were a subject, he would have to succeed to his estate.
The opposite doctrine would seem to impugn the legality of the whole series of transactions which placed William and Mary on the throne. The admission of an indefeasible right of the heir-apparent would have borne a perilous resemblance to a recognition of that divine right, every pretension to which the Revolution of 1688 had extinguished. If, again, as Fox and his followers at one time endeavored to argue, the Houses in 1789 had no right to the name or power of a Parliament, because the King had no part in their meetings, the convention that sat a century before (as, indeed, was admitted) was certainly far less entitled to that name or power, for it had not only never been called into existence by a King, but was assembled in direct defiance of the King. Similarly, it is admitted that the body which invited Charles II. to return and resume his authority was equally destitute of the validity which could only be given by a royal summons. Yet both these bodies had performed actions of greater importance than that which was looked for from this Parliament. The one had abolished the existing and usurping government, and restored to his kingdom a King who had been long an exile. The other had, as it were, passed sentence on the existing sovereign, on grounds which confessedly will not bear a strict examination, and had conferred the crown on a prince who had no hereditary claim to the title. The justification of both acts was necessity. Salus regni suprema Lex. And the necessity was clearly more urgent in the present case than in either of the preceding instances. For, unless the Parliament interfered to create an authority, there was absolutely none in existence which was capable of acting. It should also be remembered that this Parliament of 1789, though not opened for the session by the King, had been originally elected in obedience to his order, and had been prorogued by his proclamation to the day of meeting;[123] and, though the opening of a session by a speech from the throne is the usual form for the commencement of its proceedings, it may be doubted whether it be so indispensable a part of them that none of their acts are valid without it.
The breaking out of the French Revolution, and the degree in which, in spite of all its atrocities and horrors, the revolutionary spirit for a time infected a large party in England, prevented Pitt from reviving the plan of Reform which he had framed with such care and genius for organization, and in which, though defeated in Parliament, both before and after he became minister, he had hitherto continued to cherish the hope of eventually succeeding. But when clubs and societies, where the most revolutionary and seditious doctrines were openly broached, were springing up in London and oth
er large towns, and unscrupulous demagogues by speeches and pamphlets were busily disseminating theories which tended to the subversion of all legitimate authority, he not unnaturally thought it no longer seasonable to invite a discussion of schemes which would be supported in many quarters only, to quote his own words, "as a stepping-stone to ulterior objects, which they dared not avow till their power of carrying them into effect should be by this first acquisition secured." But the alarm which the spread of revolutionary ideas excited in his mind was displayed, not only passively in this abstention from the advocacy of measures the expediency of which must at all times in some degree depend on the tone of their introduction, but also in active measures of repression, some of which were not, indeed, unwarranted by precedent, but others of which can hardly be denied to have been serious inroads on the constitution, infringements of the freedom of opinion and discussion to which all Englishmen are entitled, and one of which was, to say the least, a very perilous extension of a law already sufficiently severe, the statute of treason. If the French had been content with the overthrow of their own government and institutions, much as we should have lamented the indiscriminate rashness and abhorred the atrocities with which their design was carried out, we should still have adhered to the unquestionable maxim, that no nation is justified in interfering in the internal affairs of another. But the Jacobin and Girondin demagogues, who had now the undisputed sway in Paris, did not limit their views to their own country, but openly declared themselves the enemies of all established governments in every country; and the Convention passed a formal resolution in which they proffered "fraternity and assistance" to every people which might be inclined to rise against their governments. Their resolutions were officially communicated to the sympathizing societies in England, and emissaries were secretly encouraged to cross the Channel in the hope of gaining converts. Nor were their exertions barren. Two men were convicted in Scotland of a plot to seize Edinburgh Castle, to massacre the garrison, to imprison the judges, and to rise in arms to compel the government to a change of policy. In London the King was fired at on his way to open Parliament, and on his return his carriage was attacked by a furious mob, and was only protected from serious injury by a troop of the Life Guards. Such outrages proved the existence of a new danger, against which no previous government had ever been called on to provide, and such as, in the opinion of the cabinet, could only be met by novel measures of precaution.
The first was directed against the foreign propagators of revolution. The resolutions of the Convention had been promulgated in November, 1792; and at the meeting of Parliament in December, Lord Grenville, as Foreign Secretary of State, introduced in the House of Lords an alien bill, to enable the government to deal in a summary manner with any foreign visitors whose conduct or character might seem to call for its interference. It provided that all foreigners who had arrived in the kingdom since the preceding January should give in a statement of their names and residences; that any one who should arrive in future should furnish an account of his name, his station in life, and his object in visiting England; that the King, by proclamation, order in Council, or sign-manual, might direct all foreigners to reside in such districts as might be thought suitable; that no one might quit the residence in which he first settled without a passport; and that the Secretary of State might order any suspected foreigner to quit the kingdom instantly.
The act was to be in operation for twelve months, and Lord Grenville, in introducing it, though he admitted it to be a measure of "rather a novel nature," explained at the same time that it was so far from being new in the powers which it gave, that Magna Charta distinctly recognized "the power and right of the crown to prevent foreigners from entering or residing within the realm." All that was really new was the defining of the manner in which that power should be exercised, since it had been so rarely needed that doubts might exist as to the proper mode of putting it in action. The bill, which was adopted in both Houses by large majorities, is remarkable, among other circumstances, from the fact that its discussion furnished the first instance of a public display of the difference between the two sections of the Opposition, subsequently described by Burke in one of his most celebrated pamphlets as the Old and New Whigs; those whom he called the Old Whigs (the Duke of Portland, Sir Gilbert Elliott, Mr. Windham, not to mention Burke himself) earnestly supporting it, while Lord Lansdowne, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, and Mr. Grey resisted it with equal zeal. Lord Lansdowne took the ground that it was a suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act; while Fox and Grey denounced it, in more general terms, as a measure "utterly irreconcilable with the principles of the constitution," Mr. Grey apparently referring chiefly to the power given by the bill to the Secretary of State to send any foreigners from the country, which he described as "making the bill a measure of oppression, giving power for the exercise of which no man was responsible." Sir Gilbert Elliott's answer was singularly ingenious. He did not deny that the bill conferred additional power on the crown, though not more than was justified by existing circumstances; but he maintained that the right of giving extraordinary powers to the crown on occasions was so far from being inconsistent with the principles of the constitution, that to grant extraordinary powers in extraordinary emergencies was a part of it essential to the character of a free government. If such powers were at all times possessed by the crown, its authority would be too great for a free government to co-exist with it; but if such could not be at times conferred on the crown, its authority would be too small for its own safety or that of the people.
The arguments of the ministers were, no doubt, greatly recommended, both to the Parliament and the people in general, by the notoriety of the fact that foreign agents were in many of our large towns busily, and not unsuccessfully, engaged in propagating what were known as Jacobin doctrines. But, even without that aid, it was clear that every government must, for the common good of all, be at times of extraordinary emergency invested with the power of suspending laws made for ordinary circumstances. And what would be an intolerable evil, if the supreme magistrate took upon himself to exercise it, ceases to be one when the right to exercise it is conferred by the nation itself in Parliament. If the bill did, as was argued, suspend the Habeas Corpus Act, that statute had been enacted by Parliament, and therefore for Parliament, in a case of necessity, to suspend its operation was clearly within the spirit of the constitution.
The bills affecting our own fellow-subjects were still more warmly contested. One was known as the Traitorous Correspondence Bill, which, according to Lord Campbell, was suggested by Lord Loughborough, who had lately become Lord Chancellor. The old law of high-treason, enacted in the reign of Edward III., had been in effect greatly mitigated by later statutes, which had made acts to which that character was imputed more difficult of proof, by a stricter definition of what was admissible evidence, and other safeguards; and the practice of the courts had by degrees practically reduced the list of treasons enumerated in the old law, indictments for many of the offences contained in it forbearing to assert that the persons accused had incurred the penalty of high-treason. But this new bill greatly enlarged the catalogue. It made it high-treason to hold any correspondence with the French, or to enter into any agreement to supply them with commodities of any kind, even such as were not munitions of war, but articles of ordinary merchandise, or to invest any money in the French Funds; and it enacted farther that any person who, by "any writing, preaching, or malicious and advised speaking," should encourage such designs as the old statute of Edward made treasonable, should be liable to the penalties of high-treason.
Another bill was designed to check the growing custom of holding public meetings, by providing that no meeting, the object of which was to consider any petition to the King or Parliament, or to deliberate on any alleged grievance, should be held without those who convened it, and who must be householders, giving previous notice of it by public advertisement; and empowering any two justices of the peace, at their own discretion, to declare any such m
eeting an unlawful assembly, and to disperse it by force, if, from the subjects discussed, the language held, or any special circumstances, they should regard it as dangerous.
Fox, and those who still adhered to him, resisted almost every clause of these different bills. They maintained that one of the most fundamental maxims of law "in every country calling itself free was, that property was in the highest degree entitled to the protection of the law; and, if so, that the right of disposing of it or investing it in any manner must be considered under the same protection;" that any interference "with ordinary commercial transactions was equally repugnant to the spirit of the constitution;" and, taking a practical view of the question, they warned the minister that such rigorous enactments imposing such extreme penalties would defeat their own end; for "it was a general and true maxim, that excess of punishment for a crime brings impunity along with it; and that no jury would ever find a verdict which would doom a fellow-creature to death for selling a yard of cloth and sending it to France." They protested, too, against inflicting on words, whether written or spoken, penalties which had hitherto been confined to overt acts. And the clauses conferring power on magistrates to prevent or disperse public meetings encountered still more vehement opposition; Fox insisting, with great eloquence, that "public meetings for the discussion of public subjects were not only lawful, but agreeable to the very essence of the constitution; that, indeed, to them, under that constitution, most of the liberties which Englishmen now enjoyed were particularly owing." The people, he maintained, had a right to discuss their grievances. "They had an inalienable right to complain by petition, and to remonstrate to either House of Parliament, or to the King; and to make two magistrates, who might be strong partisans, irresponsible judges whether anything said or done at a meeting had a tendency to encourage sedition, was to say that a free constitution was no longer suitable to us." Pitt justified these measures, partly on the ground of the special and unprecedented danger of the times, as proved by the late attempt on the King's life, and partly by the open avowal of republican doctrines made at the meetings of different societies; partly, also, on the temporary character of the measures, since in each bill a period was fixed after which its operation should expire. And he argued, farther, that, as many of the actions specified in these bills as seditious or treasonable were by many lawyers considered capable of being reached by statutes already existing, though not universally understood, it was "humane, not cruel, to remove doubts, and to prevent men from being ensnared by the ambiguity of old laws."
The Constitutional History of England From 1760 to 1860 Page 17