standards for judging more systematically of the behaviour
of those whom they had sent to Parliament. Frequent
and correct lists of the voters in all important questions
ought to be procured. The severest discouragement
ought to be given to the pernicious practice of affording
a blind and undistinguishing support to every administration.
“Parliamentary support comes and goes with office,
totally regardless of the man or the merit.”
For instance, Wilkes’s annual motion to expunge
the votes upon the Middlesex election had been uniformly
rejected, as often as it was made while Lord North
was in power. Lord North had no sooner given way
to the Rockingham Cabinet than the House of Commons
changed its mind, and the resolutions were expunged
by a handsome majority of 115 to 47. Administration
was omnipotent in the House, because it could be a
man’s most efficient friend at an election, and
could most amply reward his fidelity afterwards.
Against this system Burke called on the nation to
set a stern face. Root it up, he kept crying;
settle the general course in which you desire members
to go; insist that they shall not suffer themselves
to be diverted from this by the authority of the government
of the day; let lists of votes be published, so that
you may ascertain for yourselves whether your trustees
have been faithful or fraudulent; do all this, and
there will be no need to resort to those organic changes,
those empirical innovations, which may possibly cure,
but are much more likely to destroy.
[Footnote 1: “Observations on State of
the Nation,” Works, i. 105, b.]
[Footnote 2: “Speech on Duration of Parliaments.”]
It is not surprising that so halting a policy should
have given deep displeasure to very many, perhaps
to most, of those whose only common bond was the loose
and negative sentiment of antipathy to the court,
the ministry, and the too servile majority of the House
of Commons. The Constitutional Society was furious.
Lord Chatham wrote to Lord Rockingham that the work
in which these doctrines first appeared, must do much
mischief to the common cause. But Burke’s
view of the constitution was a part of his belief
with which he never paltered, and on which he surrendered
his judgment to no man. “Our constitution,”
in his opinion, “stands on a nice equipoise,
with steep precipices and deep waters upon all sides
of it. In removing it from a dangerous leaning
towards one side, there may be a risk of oversetting
it on the other."[1] This image was ever before his
mind. It occurs again in the last sentence of
that great protest against all change and movement,
when he describes himself as one who, when the equipoise
of the vessel in which he sails may be endangered by
overloading it upon one side, is desirous of carrying
the small weight of his reasons to that which may
preserve its equipoise.[2] When we think of the odious
mis-government in England which the constitution permitted,
between the time when Burke wrote and the passing of