Free Trade.  The answer is that, in those countries which adopted this policy, the Protection has, in the face of vested interests, been permanent, whilst, although the movement in favour of Free Trade has never entirely died out, and may, indeed, be said recently to have shown signs of increasing vigour, the obstacles to the realisation of the ideas entertained by economists of the type of List have not yet been removed, and are still very formidable.  That the plunge made by Sir Robert Peel has been accompanied by some disadvantages may be admitted, but Free Traders may be pardoned for thinking that, if he had not had the courage to make that plunge, the enormous counter-advantages which have resulted from his policy would never have accrued.

As regards Peel’s character, it was twice sketched by Disraeli himself.  The first occasion was in 1839.  The picture he drew at that time was highly complimentary, but as Disraeli was then a loyal supporter of Peel it may perhaps be discarded on the plea advanced by Voltaire that “we can confidently believe only the evil which a party writer tells of his own side and the good which he recognises in his opponents.”  The second occasion was after Peel’s death.  It is given by Mr. Monypenny in ii. 306-308, and is too long to quote.  Disraeli on this occasion made some few—­probably sound—­minor criticisms on Peel’s style, manner, and disposition.  But he manifestly wrote with a strong desire to do justice to his old antagonist’s fine qualities.  He concluded with a remark which, in the mouth of a Parliamentarian, may probably be considered the highest praise, namely, that Peel was “the greatest Member of Parliament that ever lived.”  I cannot but think that even those who reject Peel’s economic principles may accord to him higher praise than this.  They may admit that Peel attained a very high degree of moral elevation when, at the dictate of duty, he separated himself from all—­or the greater part—­of his former friends, and had the courage, when honestly convinced by Cobden’s arguments, to act upon his convictions.  Peel’s final utterance on this subject was not only one of the most pathetic, but also one of the finest—­because one of the most deeply sincere—­speeches ever made in Parliament.

I may conclude these remarks by some recollections of a personal character.  My father, who died in 1848, was a Peelite and an intimate friend of Sir Robert Peel, who was frequently his guest at Cromer.  I used, therefore, in my childhood to hear a good deal of the subjects treated in Mr. Monypenny’s brilliant volumes.  I well remember—­I think it must have been in 1847—­being present on one occasion when a relative of my own, who was a broad-acred Nottinghamshire squire, thumped the table and declared his opinion that “Sir Robert Peel ought to be hanged on the highest tree in England.”  Since that time I have heard a good many statesmen accused of ruining their country, but, so far as my recollection serves me, the denunciations launched against John Bright, Gladstone, and even the present Chancellor of the Exchequer, may be considered as sweetly reasonable by comparison with the language employed about Sir Robert Peel by those who were opposed to his policy.