This brilliant man, who in 1837, at the age of thirty-two, took his seat in Parliament, had made no impression in that body for several years; but having learned from early failures his weak points, and by careful study of the successes of others trained himself to an effective style of parliamentary speech, he became, at the critical time of Peel’s change of front, the representative of Shrewsbury, and gradually organized about himself the dissatisfaction and indignation of the landed proprietors with Sir Robert Peel’s concessions to the free-trade movement.  His strictures on Peel were severe, caustic, and bitter.  “What,” said this eloquent speaker, “shall we think of the eminent statesman, who, having served under four sovereigns, who, having been called to steer the ship on so many occasions and under such perilous circumstances, has only during the last three or four years found it necessary entirely to change his convictions on that most important topic, which must have presented itself for more than a quarter of a century to his consideration?  I must, sir, say that such a minister may be conscientious, but he is unfortunate....  It is all very well for the right honorable gentleman to come forward and say, ’I am thinking of posterity; my aim is heroic; and, appealing to posterity, I care neither for your cheers nor for your taunts,’ It is very well for the right honorable gentleman to take this high-flying course, but I can but say that my conception of a great statesman is one who represents a great idea,—­I do not care whether he is a manufacturer or a manufacturer’s son.  I care not what may be the position of a man who never originates an idea,—­a watcher of the atmosphere,—­a man who, as he says, ’takes his observations,’ and when he finds the wind in a certain quarter trims his sails to suit it.  Such a man may be a powerful minister, but he is no more a great statesman than a man who gets up behind a carriage is a great whip.”

All this tirade was very unjust,—­though it pleased the protectionists,—­for Sir Robert Peel was great enough to listen to arguments and reason, and give up his old sentiments when he found them untenable, even if he broke up his party.  His country was greater in his eyes than any party.

As prime minister, Peel then unfolded his plans.  He announced his intention to abandon the sliding scale entirely, and gradually reduce the duty on corn and other articles of necessity so that at the end of three or four years the duty would be taken off altogether.  This plan did not fully satisfy the League, who argued for immediate repeal.  Indeed, there was a necessity.  The poor harvests in England and the potato-rot in Ireland were producing the most fearful and painful results.  A large part of the laboring population was starving.  Never before had there been greater distress.  On the 2d of March, 1846, the ministerial plan had to go through the ordeal of a free-trade attack.  Mr. Villiers proposed an amendment that would result in the immediate and total repeal of the corn laws.  Nevertheless, the original bill passed the Commons by a majority of ninety-eight.