this subject. There can be no question, that,
previously to a direct message from the crown, neither
House of Parliament did indicate anything like a wish
for such advances as we have made or such negotiations
as we have carried on. The Parliament has assented
to ministry; it is not ministry that has obeyed the
impulse of Parliament. The people at large have
their organs through which they can speak to Parliament
and to the crown by a respectful petition, and though
not with absolute authority, yet with weight, they
can instruct their representatives. The freeholders
and other electors in this kingdom have another and
a surer mode of expressing their sentiments concerning
the conduct which is held by members of Parliament.
In the middle of these transactions this last opportunity
has been held out to them. In all these points
of view I positively assert that the people have nowhere
and in no way expressed their wish of throwing themselves
and their sovereign at the feet of a wicked and rancorous
foe, to supplicate mercy, which, from the nature of
that foe, and from the circumstances of affairs, we
had no sort of ground to expect. It is undoubtedly
the business of ministers very much to consult the
inclinations of the people, but they ought to take
great care that they do not receive that inclination
from the few persons who may happen to approach them.
The petty interests of such gentlemen, their low conceptions
of things, their fears arising from the danger to which
the very arduous and critical situation of public
affairs may expose their places, their apprehensions
from the hazards to which the discontents of a few
popular men at elections may expose their seats in
Parliament,—all these causes trouble and
confuse the representations which they make to ministers
of the real temper of the nation. If ministers,
instead of following the great indications of the
Constitution, proceed on such reports, they will take
the whispers of a cabal for the voice of the people,
and the counsels of imprudent timidity for the wisdom
of a nation.
I well remember, that, when the fortune of the war
began (and it began pretty early) to turn, as it is
common and natural, we were dejected by the losses
that had been sustained, and with the doubtful issue
of the contests that were foreseen. But not a
word was uttered that supposed peace upon any proper
terms was in our power, or therefore that it should
be in our desire. As usual, with or without reason,
we criticized the conduct of the war, and compared
our fortunes with our measures. The mass of the
nation went no further. For I suppose that you
always understood me as speaking of that very preponderating
part of the nation which had always been equally adverse
to the French principles and to the general progress
of their Revolution throughout Europe,—considering
the final success of their arms and the triumph of
their principles as one and the same thing.