and to have loved his country well,—though
there were of course they who declared that his hand
had been too weak for power, and that his services
had been naught;—and on this evening his
virtues were remembered. Once when his voice
failed him the whole House got up and cheered.
The nature of a Whig Prime Minister’s speech
on such an occasion will be understood by most of
my readers without further indication. The bill
itself had been read before, and it was understood
that no objection would be made to the extent of the
changes provided in it by the liberal side of the
House. The opposition coming from liberal members
was to be confined to the subject of the ballot.
And even as yet it was not known whether Mr. Turnbull
and his followers would vote against the second reading,
or whether they would take what was given, and declare
their intention of obtaining the remainder on a separate
motion. The opposition of a large party of Conservatives
was a matter of certainty; but to this party Mr. Mildmay
did not conceive himself bound to offer so large an
amount of argument as he would have given had there
been at the moment no crowd in Palace Yard. And
he probably felt that that crowd would assist him with
his old Tory enemies. When, in the last words
of his speech, he declared that under no circumstances
would he disfigure the close of his political career
by voting for the ballot,—not though the
people, on whose behalf he had been fighting battles
all his life, should be there in any number to coerce
him,—there came another round of applause
from the opposition benches, and Mr. Daubeny began
to fear that some young horses in his team might get
loose from their traces. With great dignity Mr.
Daubeny had kept aloof from Mr. Turnbull and from Mr.
Turnbull’s tactics; but he was not the less alive
to the fact that Mr. Turnbull, with his mob and his
big petition, might be of considerable assistance
to him in this present duel between himself and Mr.
Mildmay. I think Mr. Daubeny was in the habit
of looking at these contests as duels between himself
and the leader on the other side of the House,—in
which assistance from any quarter might be accepted
if offered.
Mr. Mildmay’s speech did not occupy much over
an hour, and at half-past seven Mr. Turnbull got up
to reply. It was presumed that he would do so,
and not a member left his place, though that time of
the day is an interesting time, and though Mr. Turnbull
was accustomed to be long. There soon came to
be but little ground for doubting what would be the
nature of Mr. Turnbull’s vote on the second reading.
“How may I dare,” said he, “to accept
so small a measure of reform as this with such a message
from the country as is now conveyed to me through
the presence of fifty thousand of my countrymen, who
are at this moment demanding their measure of reform
just beyond the frail walls of this chamber?
The right honourable gentleman has told us that he
will never be intimidated by a concourse of people.