What may be hoped, sir, from a prince of wisdom and courage, at the head of a hundred and ten thousand regular troops, with eight millions in his treasury? How much he must necessarily add to the strength of any party in which he shall engage, is unnecessary to mention; it is evident, without proof, that nothing could so much contribute to the reestablishment of the house of Austria, as a reconciliation with this mighty prince, and that, to bring it to pass, would be the most effectual method of serving the unfortunate queen that requires our assistance.
Why we should despair, sir, of such a reconciliation I cannot perceive; a reconciliation equally conducive to the real interest of both parties. It may be proved, with very little difficulty, to the king of Prussia, that he is now assisting those with whom interests incompatible and religions irreconcilable have set him at variance, whom he can never see prosperous but by the diminution of his own greatness, and who will always project his ruin while they are enjoying the advantages of his victories. We may easily convince him that their power will soon become, by his assistance, such as he cannot hope to withstand, and show, from the examples of other princes, how dangerous it is to add to the strength of an ambitious neighbour. We may show him how much the fate of the empire is now in his hands, and how much more glorious and more advantageous it will be to preserve it from ruin, than to contribute to its destruction.
If by such arguments, sir, this potent monarch can be induced to act steadily in defence of the common cause, we may once more stand at the head of a protestant confederacy; of a confederacy that may contract the views and repress the ambition of the house of Bourbon, and alter their schemes of universal monarchy into expedients for the defence of their dominions.
But in transacting these affairs, let us not engage in any intricate treaties, nor amuse ourselves with displaying our abilities for negotiation; negotiation, that fatal art which we have learned as yet very imperfectly, and which we have never attempted to practise but to our own loss. While we have been entangled in tedious disquisitions, and retarded by artful delays, while our commissaries have been debating about what was only denied to produce controversies, and inquiring after that which has been hid from them only to divert their attention from other questions, how many opportunities have been lost, and how often might we have secured by war, what was, at a much greater expense, lost by treaties.
Treaties, sir, are the artillery of our enemies, to which we have nothing to oppose; they are weapons of which we know not the use, and which we can only escape by not coming within their reach. I know not by what fatality it is, that to treat and to be cheated, are, with regard to Britons, words of the same signification; nor do I intend, by this observation, to asperse the characters of particular persons, for treaties, by whomsoever carried on, have ended always with the same success.
It is time, therefore, to know, at length, our weakness and our strength, and to resolve no longer to put ourselves voluntarily into the power of our enemies: our troops have been always our ablest negotiators, and to them it has been, for the most part, necessary at last to refer our cause.
Let us, then, always preserve our martial character, and neglect the praise of political cunning; a quality which, I believe, we shall never attain, and which, if we could obtain, would add nothing to our honour. Let it be the practice of the Britons to declare their resolutions without reserve, and adhere to them in opposition to danger; let them be ambitious of no other elogies than those which may be gained by honesty and courage, nor will they then ever find their allies diffident, or their enemies contemptuous.
By recovering and asserting this character, we may become once more the arbiters of Europe, and be courted by all the protestant powers as their protectors: we may once more subdue the ambition of the aspiring French, and once more deliver the house of Austria from the incessant pursuit of those restless enemies.
The defence of that illustrious family, sir, has always appeared to me, since I studied the state of Europe, the unvariable interest of the British nation, and our obligations to support it on this particular occasion have already been sufficiently explained.
Whence it proceeded, sir, that those who now so zealously espouse the Austrian interest, have been so plainly forgetful of it on other occasions, I cannot determine. That treaties have been made very little to the advantage of that family, and that its enemies have been suffered to insult it without opposition, is well known; nor was it long ago that it was debated in this house, whether any money should be lent to the late emperour.
No publick or private character can be supported, no enemy, sir, can be intimidated, nor any friend confirmed in his adherence, but by a steady and consistent conduct, by proposing, in all our actions, such ends as may be openly avowed, and by pursuing them without regard to temporary inconveniencies, or petty obstacles.
Such conduct, sir, I would gladly recommend on the present occasion, on which I should be far from advising a faint, an irresolute, or momentary assistance, such supplies as declare diffidence in our own strength, or a mean inclination to please contrary parties at the same time, to perform our engagements with the queen, and continue our friendship with France. It is, in my opinion, proper to espouse our ally with the spirit of a nation that expects her decisions to be ratified, that holds the balance of the world in her hand, and can bestow conquest and empire at her pleasure.
Yet, sir, it cannot be denied that many powerful reasons may be brought against any new occasions of expense, nor is it without horrour and astonishment that any man, conversant in political calculations, can consider the enormous profusion of the national treasure. In the late dreadful confusion of the world, when the ambition of France had set half the nations of the earth on flame, when we sent our armies to the continent, and fought the general quarrel of mankind, we paid, during the reigns of king William and his great successour, reigns of which every summer was distinguished by some important action, but four millions yearly.
But our preparations for the present war, in which scarcely a single ship of war has been taken, or a single fortress laid in ruins, have brought upon the nation an expense of five millions. So much more are we now obliged to pay to amuse the weakest, than formerly to subdue the most powerful of our enemies.
Frugality, which is always prudent, is, at this time, sir, indispensable, when war, dreadful as it is, may be termed the lightest of our calamities; when the seasons have disappointed us of bread, and an universal scarcity afflicts the nation. Every day brings us accounts from different parts of the country, and every account is a new evidence of the general calamity, of the want of employment for the poor, and its necessary consequence, the want of food.
He that is scarce able to preserve himself, cannot be expected to assist others; nor is that money to be granted to foreign powers, which is wanted for the support of our fellow-subjects, who are now languishing with diseases, which unaccustomed hardships and unwholesome provisions have brought upon them, while we are providing against distant dangers, and bewailing the distresses of the house of Austria.
Let us not add to the miseries of famine the mortifications of insult and neglect; let our countrymen, at least, divide our care with our allies, and while we form schemes for succouring the queen of Hungary, let us endeavour to alleviate nearer distresses, and prevent or pacify domestick discontents.
If there be any man whom the sight of misery cannot move to compassion, who can hear the complaints of want without sympathy, and see the general calamity of his country without employing one hour on schemes for its relief; let not that man dare to boast of integrity, fidelity, or honour; let him not presume to recommend the preservation of our faith, or adherence to our confederates: that wretch can have no real regard to any moral obligation, who has forgotten those first duties which nature impresses; nor can he that neglects the happiness of his country, recommend any good action for a good reason.
It should be considered, sir, that we can only be useful to our allies, and formidable to our enemies, by being unanimous and mutually confident of the good intentions of each other, and that nothing but a steady attention to the publick welfare, a constant readiness to remove grievances, and an apparent unwillingness to impose new burdens, can produce that unanimity.
As the cause is, therefore, necessarily to precede the effect, as foreign influence is the consequence of happiness at home, let us first endeavour to establish that alacrity and security that may animate the people to assert their ancient superiority to other nations, and restore that plenty which may raise them above any temptation to repine at assistance given to our allies.
No man, sir, can very solicitously watch over the welfare of his neighbour whose mind is depressed by poverty, or distracted by terrour; and when the nation shall see us anxious for the preservation of the queen of Hungary, and unconcerned about the wants of our fellow-subjects, what can be imagined, but that we have some method of exempting ourselves from the common distress, and that we regard not the publick misery when we do not feel it?
Sir Robert WALPOLE replied, to the following effect:—Sir, it is always proper for every man to lay down some principles upon which he proposes to act, whether in publick or private; that he may not be always wavering, uncertain, and irresolute; that his adherents may know what they are to expect, and his adversaries be able to tell why they are opposed.
It is necessary, sir, even for his own sake, that he may not be always struggling with himself; that he may know his own determinations, and enforce them by the reasons which have prevailed upon him to form them; that he may not argue in the same speech to contrary purposes, and weary the attention of his hearers with contrasts and antitheses.
When a man admits the necessity of granting a supply, expatiates upon the danger that may be produced by retarding it, declares against the least delay, however speciously proposed, and enforces the arguments which have been already offered to show how much it is our duty and interest to allow it; may it not reasonably be imagined, that he intends to promote it, and is endeavouring to convince them of that necessity of which he seems himself convinced?
But when the same man proceeds to display, with equal eloquence, the present calamities of the nation, and tells to how much better purposes the sum thus demanded may be applied; when he dwells upon the possibility that an impolitick use may be made of the national treasure, and hints that it may be asked for one purpose and employed to another, what can be collected from his harangue, however elegant, entertaining, and pathetick? How can his true opinion be discovered? Or how shall we fix such fugitive reasonings, such variable rhetorick?
I am not able, sir, to discern, why truth should be obscured; or why any man should take pleasure in heaping together all the arguments that his knowledge may supply, or his imagination suggest, against a proposition which he cannot deny. Nor can I assign any good purpose that can be promoted by perpetual renewals of debate, and by a repetition of objections, which have in former conferences, on the same occasion, been found of little force.
When the system of affairs is not fully laid open, and the schemes of the administration are in part unknown, it is easy to raise objections formidable in appearance, which, perhaps, cannot be answered till the necessity of secrecy is taken away. When any general calamity has fallen upon a nation, it is a very fruitful topick of rhetorick, and may be very pathetically exaggerated, upon a thousand occasions to which it has no necessary relation.
Such, In my opinion, sir, is the use now made of the present scarcity, a misfortune inflicted upon us by the hand of providence alone; not upon us only, but upon all the nations on this side of the globe, many of which suffer more, but none less than ourselves.
If at such a time it is more burdensome to the nation to raise supplies, it must be remembered, that it is in proportion difficult to other nations to oppose those measures for which the supplies are granted; and that the same sum is of greater efficacy in times of scarcity than of plenty.
Our present distress will, I hope, soon be at an end; and, perhaps, a few days may produce at least some alteration. It is not without reason, that I expect the news of some successful attempts in America, which will convince the nation, that the preparations for war have not been idle shows, contrived to produce unnecessary expenses.
In the mean time it is necessary that we support that power which may be able to assist us against France, the only nation from which any danger can threaten us, even though our fleets in America should be unsuccessful.
If we defeat the Spaniards, we may assist the house of Austria without difficulty, and if we fail in our attempts, their alliance will be more necessary. The sum demanded for this important purpose cannot be censured as exorbitant, yet will, I hope, be sufficient: if more should hereafter appear necessary, I doubt not but it will be granted.
The question passed without opposition.
HOUSE OF COMMONS, DECEMBER 1, 1741
[DEBATE ON CHOOSING A SPEAKER.]
The new house of commons being met, the usher came from the house of lords, with his majesty's commands for their immediate attendance, when they were ordered to choose a speaker; and being returned, Mr. PELHAM addressed himself in the following manner to the clerk of the house:
Mr. HARDINGE,
As we are here assembled, in pursuance of the imperial summons, it is necessary, in obedience to his majesty's commands, and the established custom of this house, that we proceed immediately to the choice of a person qualified for the chair.—Gentlemen, it is with no common degree of satisfaction, that I observe this assembly so numerous on the first day; because whatever is transacted by us, must necessarily be considered by the nation with more regard, as it is approved by a greater number of their representatives; and because the present affair, which relates particularly to this house, must be more satisfactorily conducted, as our number is greater; since every man must willingly abide by his own choice, and cheerfully submit to that authority, of which he has himself concurred to the establishment.
The qualifications required in the person who shall fill the chair, to his own reputation, and the advantage of the house, it is not necessary minutely to recount; it being obvious to every gentleman who hears me, that he must possess such an equality of temper, as may enable him always to preserve a steady and impartial attention, neither discomposed by the irregularities into which some gentlemen, unacquainted with the forms of this assembly, may easily fall, nor disconcerted by the heat and turbulence to which, in former parliaments, some of those whose experience might have taught them the necessity of decency, have been too often hurried by the eagerness of controversy. That he must add to his perpetual serenity, such a firmness of mind, as may enable him to repress petulance and subdue contumacy, and support the orders of the house, in whatever contrariety of counsels, or commotion of debate, against all attempts of infraction or deviation. That to give efficacy to his interpositions, and procure veneration to his decisions, he must, from his general character and personal qualities, derive such dignity and authority, as may naturally dispose the minds of others to obedience, as may suppress the murmurs of envy, and prevent the struggles of competition.
These qualifications were eminently conspicuous in the gentleman who filled the chair in the earlier part of my life, and who is now one of the ornaments of the other house. Such were his abilities, and such his conduct, that it would be presumptuous in any man, however endowed by nature, or accomplished by study, to aspire to surpass him; nor can a higher encomium be easily conceived, than this house bestowed upon that person, who was thought worthy to succeed him.
The office which we have now to confer, is not only arduous with regard to the abilities necessary to the execution of it, but extremely burdensome and laborious, such as requires continual attendance, and incessant application; nor can it be expected that any man would engage in it, who is not ready to devote his time and his health to the service of the publick, and to struggle with fatigue and restraint for the advantage of his country.
Such is the gentleman whom I shall propose to your choice; one whose zeal for the present imperial house, and the prosperity of the nation, has been always acknowledged, and of whom it cannot be suspected that he will be deterred by any difficulties from a province which will afford him so frequent opportunities of promoting the common interest of the emperour and the people.
What success may be expected from his endeavours, we can only judge from his present influence; influence produced only by his private virtues; but so extensive in that part of the nation which lies within the reach of his beneficence, and the observation of his merit, that it sets him not only above the danger, but above the fear of opposition, and secures him a seat in this assembly without contest.
Thus deputed by his country to many successive senates, he has acquired an unrivalled degree of knowledge in the methods of our proceedings, and an eminent dexterity in digesting them with that order and perspicuity by which only the transaction of great affairs can be made expeditious, and the discussion of difficult questions be disentangled from perplexity; qualities which are now made particularly necessary by the importance of the subjects to be considered in this senate: so that I doubt not but you will unanimously concur with me in desiring that the chair may be filled by a person eminently distinguished by his knowledge, his integrity, his diligence, and his reputation; and therefore I move, without scruple, that the right honourable Arthur ONSLOW, esquire, be called to the chair.
Then Mr. CLUTTERBUCK seconded the motion in this manner:—That I am not able to add any thing to the encomium of the right honourable gentleman nominated to the president's chair, gives me no concern, because I am confident, that in the opinion of this assembly, his name alone includes all panegyrick, and that he who recommends Arthur ONSLOW, esquire, will never be required to give the reason of his choice. I therefore rise now only to continue the common methods of the house, and to second a motion which I do not expect that any will oppose.
[Here the whole assembly cried out, with a general acclamation, ONSLOW,
ONSLOW.]
Mr. ONSLOW then rose up and said:—Though I might allege many reasons against this choice, of which the strongest is my inability to discharge the trust conferred upon me in a manner suitable to its importance, yet I have too high an idea of the wisdom of this assembly, to imagine that they form any resolution without just motives; and therefore shall think it my duty to comply with their determination, however opposite to my own opinion.
Mr. PELHAM and Mr. CLUTTERBUCK then led him to the chair, where, before he went up to it, he desired, That the house would consider how little he was qualified for the office which they were about to confer upon him, and fix their choice upon some other person, who might be capable of discharging so important a trust.
The members calling out, The chair, chair, chair, he ascended the step, and then addressed himself thus to the house:—Gentlemen, since it is your resolution, that I should once more receive the honour of being exalted to this important office, for which it is not necessary to mention how little I am qualified, since I may hope that those defects which have hitherto been excused, will still find the same indulgence; my gratitude for a distinction so little deserved, will always incite me to consult the honour of the house, and enable me to supply, by duty and diligence, what is wanting in my knowledge and capacity.