has a choice of labourers, and the labourer has a choice of masters; but in slavery it is always necessary to give despotic power to the master.  This bill leaves it to the magistrate to keep peace between master and slave.  Every time that the slave takes twenty minutes to do that which the master thinks he should do in fifteen, recourse must be had to the magistrate.  Society would day and night be in a constant state of litigation, and all differences and difficulties must be solved by judicial interference.”

He did not share in Mr. Buxton’s apprehension of gross cruelty as a result of the apprenticeship.  “The magistrate would be accountable to the Colonial Office, and the Colonial Office to the House of Commons, in which every lash which was inflicted under magisterial authority would be told and counted.  My apprehension is that the result of continuing for twelve years this dead slavery,—­this state of society destitute of any vital principle,—­will be that the whole negro population will sink into weak and drawling inefficacy, and will be much less fit for liberty at the end of the period than at the commencement.  My hope is that the system will die a natural death; that the experience of a few months will so establish its utter inefficiency as to induce the planters to abandon it, and to substitute for it a state of freedom.  I have voted,” he said, “for the Second Reading, and I shall vote for the Third Reading; but, while the bill is in Committee, I shall join with other honourable gentlemen in doing all that is possible to amend it.”

Such a declaration, coming from the mouth of a member of the Government, gave life to the debate, and secured to Mr. Buxton an excellent division, which under the circumstances was equivalent to a victory.  The next day Mr. Stanley rose; adverted shortly to the position in which the Ministers stood; and announced that the term of apprenticeship would be reduced from twelve years to seven.  Mr. Buxton, who, with equal energy and wisdom, had throughout the proceedings acted as leader of the Anti-slavery party in the House of Commons, advised his friends to make the best of the concession; and his counsel was followed by all those Abolitionists who were thinking more of their cause than of themselves.  It is worthy of remark that Macaulay’s prophecy came true, though not at so early a date as he ventured to anticipate.  Four years of the provisional system brought all parties to acquiesce in the premature termination of a state of things which denied to the negro the blessings of freedom, and to the planter the profits of slavery.

“The papers,” Macaulay writes to his father, “will have told you all that has happened, as far as it is known to the public.  The secret history you will have heard from Buxton.  As to myself, Lord Althorp told me yesterday night that the Cabinet had determined not to accept my resignation.  I have therefore the singular good luck of having saved both my honour and my place, and of having given no just ground of offence either to the Abolitionists or to my party-friends.  I have more reason than ever to say that honesty is the best policy.”