YALE UNIVERSriY
LIBRARY

ELEVEN
LECTURES
ON THE
FRENCH AND BELGIAN
REVOLUTIONS, AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING :
DELIVERED IN THE
T HEATRE OF THE ROTUNDA, BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE,

WILLIAM COBBETT. Ill

WITH A PORTRAIT.

W. STRANGE, 21, PATERNOSTER ROW.
MDCCCXXX.

CONTENTS.

LECTURE. 1. French Revolution.
2. English Boroughmongering.
3. Grievances of the English People.
4. Petition to the King, with remarks.
5. Aristocracy of the People.
6. Belgian Revolution.
7. Church Property.
8. New Police.
9. Talleyrand's Mission to England.
10. The Whigs.
11. The Standing Army.

A
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BV WIX.I.IAIMI COBBETT^
Delivered in the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge, August 3(Hh, 1830.

Gentlemen, I AM here for tbe purpose of very respectfully submitting my opinions regarding;
tbe effects which 1 think the Revolution recently achieved in Prance will produce,
and, indeed, ought to produce, in this country. Jn contemplating tbat Revolution!,
itis impossible to express sujBcient admiration for the conduct ofthe pecsonsby whogi
it w EIS effected. There are some who praise their moderatioa more than their valour ;
1 am of opinion that their valour is the first thing to praise. I have no objeetioB
to their moderatitm — to their forgiveness — to their mercy ; but, at the same time, I
am of opinion tbat the first thing for us to adraire is their bravery. Gentlemen, 1
am one of those who wish to see justice done on those who wished to make tbem
slaves. I say not this to excite angry feeUngs against the poor contemptible creature
who has taken shelter on the English shores — he is beneath all thoughts of resent
ment ; but at the same time, gentlemen, 1 think it is unbecoming of any man, and
especially of any Englishman, who thinks of the mlscbjef intended — ^for tke slavery
he bad in store for generations to come ; 1 think it quite unbecoming of any En
glishman to speak of showing much lenity and compassion to this weak but guilty
man, and his abettors and counsellors. But, gentlemen, I was speaking of the
people of tbe French nation, and 1 think there is one thing, above all others, to
admire in their conduct ; — the illustration which it gives of the real power of the
working people. This was nothinguew to me, for I have altfays, so far as I have
had any little power, been the advocate for doing justice lo those who work— to
those who give us all tbat we eat, and drink, and wear. These raen are spoken
contumeliously of by the aristocracy. They are called the lower orders, I, however,
have always insisted, that the lowest were those helpless noodles who are unable to
do any-thing for themselves. The admiration universally excited for the working
classes of the people in France, is then, I say, nothing new to me. I have always
entertained and promulgated the same opinions ; and I am pleased at the Revolution,
particularly on this account, that it makes THE WORKING CLASSES SEE
.THEIR REAL UMPORTANCE, and makes THOSE WHO DESPISE THEM
SEE IT TOO. Gentlemen, depend upon it, the aristocracy will never again speak
of the working classesas they have heretofore done. Tbe Revolution in France was
accomplished — not by the aristocracy — not by military gentlemen — not byi gentlemen
with whiskers andlougspurs — not by gentlemenof any description, iri fact ;— -nor even
.'by the middle classes, but by the working people aloue ; by men wbo qtritted their
shops, laid down their needles, and their awls, and their saws, and rushing out into the
streets of Paris, said, " It there be no alternative but slavery, let us put an end to
the tyrants ! " This, gentlemen, is a notorious fact ; every man of Paris saw it ; I
repeat, therefore, that the Revolution of France has been effected by the working
•people alone. The next day, indeed, after they had achieved the victory, they were
Second Edition.— Strange, Paternoster Row.— Price Two^peBee^

joined by other pcrsons^-more rieh^-more , respectable,' as it is called; but they
who achieved the vicioixwere the working people,'
And what did they fight for ? They were not immediately goaded on by hun
ger; they had not been subjected to any singular act of oppression. It was not
this ; but the tyrants had said, " They shall be slaves." And how did the people
know this .' They knew it because the Government had announced its design to
do two things : — to put a total end to the liberty of the press — that was bad
enough — but the other was a million times more important — it was to deprive.tbe
people of the right to choose their representatives freely. Gentlemen, it is this
that brings the l?rench Revolution home to us — that makes it our concern ; it is
this which calls on us to be grateful to the people of France, and to contribute
according to our ability towards assuaging the distress of the widows and orphans
which the. Revolution has made. They had not heen immediately oppressed, as I
said before; nobody had come to chop them down; but they kueW what was
coming. The ordinances showed that it was determined they were no longer to
chouse their own representatives; or, according to the expression of one of their
own papers, Polignac was going to make them rotten boroughs, and treat them as
tbe aristocracy treat the people of England. These were the grounds of the French
Revolution; the Government had in effect said this to them : — " If you will not
turn out and fight, and beat us, we will m-ake you submit to such a Government as
they have in England. You shall have a chamber of deputies, and a chamber of
peers ; and there shall be all the forms and ceremoniej pertaining to liberty. But
you shall be placed in the same situation as the English people are in, and have no
more real representation than they have." The consequence was, that the French
shed their blood, aud died, rather than submit to be treated in the manner that the
boroughmongers treat the people of England.
Such are the reasons why we ought to applaud the French, while we ought also in
all ways to express our admiration for them, and show our gratitude to the utmost
of our power.
Genilemen, I will now, with your permission, take a little bit of a review of our
own affairs.
As to the form of our Government, I think there is no complaint to be made as
to this. Our forefathers, for many ages, had a Kiug, Lords, aud Commons ; and Eng
land has been very great and' happy, and so she again raay be, under that form of
Government. 1 have, therefore, no complaint to make about our form ; 1 am not dis
posed to dispute about words ; I say that we want no changein the Porh, but that we
want a great change in the substance— a very great change indeed. This aris
tocracy of ours— for we have very little cause to complain of the royal part of our
Government— that is nearly as much deprived of its rights as ourselves ; we are all
governed by an aristocracy, and particularly by that branch of it that is called
boroughmongers; however, to speak of the whole, it is an aristocracy which
notoriously governs the country. Indeed, this is never denied ; and the wi-iters on
the Government side of the question, maintain that our happiness consists in this.
What.! IS It to be supposed that if there be a body of men, who have the sole
and exclusive power to make laws-to impose taxes— and to bestow those taxes upon
themse ves and their families; is it to be supposed that they will not take care of
themselves -'—that they will not take the taxes from the labouring classes, and all
others but themselves, and heap them on their own families ? U'his is notoriously
the case. •'
But perhaps you will permit me to take the aristocracy, aud trace it along, and
see how they have gone on by degrees absorbing the wealth of the community and
making a large portion of tbe people the most miserable that can be
,n^^n nr"".V /™%Z'' ^"u " '' ""* ^^' ''*''^"'' ^'"^^ 'here were no poor-rates,
and no church-rates. What then, were the people neglected ? No; tliey were not
neglected, but taken better care of than now ; for a large portion of the property
churrh Ch^r "''''¦ '^'^ '^''•l^.^D'l timber, belonging to what is called the
w^th fh Hfh« 1^'°^! »," '^'''' *° ">? ''^''Sy, as trustees for the nation, together
r! If. '/fi'"'"^*v.'"'P''°,!:' «P^i'-«dthe churches, and assisted the stringer,
.,^nn^ V n' H '''l^^P'l?"- England was. In this respect at least, the happies
thrk noth^ni'f h', ^ ^^ """^ ^r ^ ""^V^^ "*¦ ^^"Sion came, and of that I should
thmk nothing but there came also a change of the property. This ereat mass of
J^Zr^/Jth'" r 'k ''^' P"b'ie property", in trust'^for'the'wbile nft on, wfs al
taken from the clergy by act of parliament. Well, if the property had been taken
and divided among the people at large, it would perhaps have been a good tMn"'.
But, no; It was taken and grasped by the aristocracy. ' From this very lource the

Duke of Bedford had 19,000 acres of. grpijniji in Cambridge, with immense estates at
Tavistock, Woburn, Covent Garden, avid ^t. Giles'. Aye, gentlemen, his Grace not
only holds the ground on which Covent Garden stands ; but he also possesses the
right to make me, and all who live within any reasonable, distance from the market,
pay to him a tax ou every cabbage and carrot we get. Aud he is an instance of the
many. He has alarge slice, but others have larger slices than he, and amongst the
whole, an immense mass of property, amounting to more than one-third ofthe real
property ofthe whole kingdom, is divided. The French had a revolution, and they,
too, abolished the Catholic rehgion ; they turned away the clergy ; but what did
they do with the property ? They put it up to auction, and appropriated its proceeds
to the afi^airs of the nation. Yes ; blackguards, as they have been called ; bloody
Revolutionists^Atheists — Sans culottes — as the aristocracy have called them : —
wicked ruffians as they were, they were still honest enough wheu they took the pr07
perty away from the clergy to put it up to auction, and employ the money for public
purposes. This is the difference between a sans culotte Revolution and an aristo
cratic Reformation.
But this aristocracy, so famous for sentiments of honour and piety as we know it
to be; this pink of an aristocracy — a pattern to the worlds-met with some little
difficulty in getting this property transferred to themselves. It was all very well, when
they first got it, but it so happened that there was originally but half a Reformation
made in religion. The first king took away the lands, and said. You must be
Catholics still, if you would possess the property. He was followed by a son, who
said, " You must be Protestants, or you cannot have the property." This was a
difficulty. What ! noble-minded men turn apostates I But they did not hesitate long ;
they parted with their religion and kept the estates. Oh, yes, they became excellent
Protestants in the reign of Edward VI. They made Tom Cranmer's prayer-book,
and thought it a sort of holy work to take the property away from those priests who
taught a religion that was idolatrous and damnable. But, as the happiness of man is
not tobe of long duration without interruption, this young king died, and his successor
would have them all Catholics, or take their estates away. Faith ! they all turned Catho
lics ! The Pope sent them a Cardinal-bishop to give them absolution, and they went;
down on their marrow-bones in Westmlnster-hall,begging pardon of God and tbe Pope
for having been guilty of being Protestants, and makingTom Cranmer's prayer- book.
Here, then, theywere quite happy. They bad got back into the bosom of the church,
and got the property too. F'aith ! this unfortunate queen only lived five years, and
her successor would have all Protestants. If these were not historical facts, to be
appealed to by every man who hears me, I should not dare to say any-thing so in
credible as I am saying of this pink of an aristocracy. But, they had now got a sove
reign who was not to he joked with. He said, " Turn Protestants again, or turn out
of your estates." Back they went again, andre-enacted tbe prayer-book which they
had ordered to be burnt. All of them turned back again into tbe Protestant church,
aud kept the estates. It is, therefore, clear that the aristocracy are not such an ob
stinate breed as some imagine them to be. Many say, upon the subject of reform,
" They never will give way." Don't despair ! if it come to bfc a question between
reform and the estates, my life for it they will give way. It is our business to per
suade them that this is their interest. Try persuasion upon them ; I am for recom
mending no violence, except hard words; but if you appeal to them properly, and
convince them thaf their estates depend upon reform, my word for it, that they will
grant it with as much facility as they turned Catholics or Protestants. When they
got back to Protestantism, there they remained; they had to do with a queen, whose
life happened to be longer than most of theirs ; and she was not to be trifled with.
These estates, too, were always tender things ; they knew how they had come by
them — that acts of parliament had conferred them ; and you will find, if you look
closely into the history of the country, that this has been one of the great prevailing
causes of their desire to keep all real power out of Che hands of the people. I repeat,
that the possession of these estates, and the fear of being called to part with thera,
has been one great cause of their desire to keep all real power but of the hands ofthe
people. Mark their conduct at the tiine of the Revolution of 1688, which hasbeeji
compared to this Revolution in France. What ! a Revolution made by a foreign
army, placing a foreign, king upon the throne, in despite of the people, and for the
aristocracy ; this Revolution like the recent one in France ? Gentlemen, you know
better. Mark how they approached to that event. Before the death of Elizabeth, the peo
ple deraanded something from the church property, for the relief of the poor and the
stranger. They said the jpoor were relifye^l formeriy, and why pot now .' At lasti

4
after Elizabeth had tried in vain for eleven years to get something out of these estates,
for the purposes of their original destinUion, in the 43rd year of her reign, an act
passed, making permanent relief for the distressed and for the repair of the churches.
'But, how was It made ? It should have beeu made by an assessment on the church
estates, which the aristocracy had got. Justice says, the poor o'ught to be provided
for out of their former inheritance. But this was not the case ; the aristocracy kept
the estates, and threw the burden of the poiir on the whole of us. It would not be
very unreasonable, therefore, if we were to demand of them to be so good as to keep
the poor out of those estates. They are aware that many things of that sort would
be talked of in a reformed parliament, and therefore, they say it is better not to
have il.
At the Revolution, what did they want to get rid of James II. for ? How had he
offended them ? By wanting to,do that which George IV. did the winter before the
last. The people of England did not complain of being overburdened with taxes ;
but the king wanted to do what the last king did, the last winter but one— to place
the Catholic on an equality of civil rights with the Protestant. That was all be asked
to do, and all he wanted to do. But, though this did not offend the people, it greatly
offended the aristocracy. England was then within a few years of the time when
the property had been taken frora the church and given to the aristocracy; and it
was within fewer years of the time when it had been taken back frora the aristocracy
forthe use ofthe nation. For while the republic lasted, England looked back a little
into old accounts. Upon the restoration of Charles the Second, however, the estates
were taken back again and given to the aristocracy, who have ever since retained
them. In the reign of James, therefore, they were not above thirty years from the
time wheu their property had been taken away for the use Ofthe nation. It was
all fresh in their recollections, " Ah !" said the aristocracy, " if the Catholics are
put on an equality of rights with us, why should they not have the property too?
Why should not tpe'whole of the reformation be undone, if part of it be undone?"
They determined^' Jficftii to make a "^orious Revolution." However, the people
were not very wetj coiitent with it. They were grumbling from tbe time of the
revolution to 1715, aiid tben the parliament, which had been elected for three years
(for the people had always thought it necessary that there should be a new parlia
ment every three years, to prevent the members from becoming independent or for-
'getfulof theirconstitueots), the parliament which had been elected for three years,
elected themselves for another ¦four years, and passed a law, saying, that it s'boulil
always be elected for seven years in future. Thus was this fundamental law oif the
country subverted, and tbe compact between the king and the people set at nought,
under the pretence that elections created disturbances, and gave power to factions to
disturb the harmony of the governraent! The same reason would take away all
elections. We are now feeling the consequences of this act. The moment this bill
passed, and the representatives found they should have to face their constituents
only once in seven years, the aristocracy went to work, to take all power, bit by bit,
Out of the hands of the people. The A.merican and French wars grew out of this,
and in 17i)3, they had biyiugnt things to such a pass, that Mr. Grey laid a petition at
the bar of the House of Coramons, asking to prove — what I believe'he would be very
sorry to do now — tq prove that one hundred andflfty-four'peers and great commoners,
with the ministers, returned a majority of the whole house — that is, the Whole
House, for all efficient purposes. Suppose, gentlemen, we were to put any question
to this meeting, it is very probable that there would be nearly half one way, and ra
ther more than half t)ie other ; but, as we should necessarily agree to decide by the
majority, the majority would, io fact, constitute the whole. The aristocracy have,
then, taken away the whole of our power in this way ; — and that because they have'
an eye to the estates.
Do you not observe, gentlemen,, that while the people are every-where animated in
applauding the French Revolution, that the aristocracy and the clergy are as mute
as mice ? Do you find one of them stir in the business, in any way ? No ; they are
not seen to move or speak. Fortunately, we have got three of them in print. They
had been pressed to go to a dinner which had been got up at the Freemasons' Tavern,
and not liking to comply with the invitation, they must write letters. My LORD
JOHN RUSSELL had not health for such celebrations ! My LORD MILTON
said, he approved of this revolution, though he was so decidedly averse from the
former one. Yes, gentlemen, there were no tithes to take away now, they were
taken away before ; there were no grants, and pensions, and sinecures, to take away
BOW, they had been all taken away before. Oh, yes ; they could approve of this,
very well. But then ray Lord Milton's circumstances wonld only afford £10. for the

relief of the ¦widows and orphans the Revolution liad made. He who spends between
£2000. and £3000. to become the member of a county, can only afford £18. towards
the relief of the widows and orphans of the^rave fellows who effected the Revolution.
Very well ; it is enough that we know my 'Lord Milton approves of it. Then there is
my LORt) NUGENT. He sends his written approbation of the conduct of the French
people, but he has not time to attend. Two days afterwards, however, he could
find time to slip down to Cowes, and visit the runaway king ! Why, gentlemen,
seeing the tendency of this Revolution, and the effects it must produce in every
enslaved country, is it possible that the Grenvilles can approve of it ? — a family
who have received in SINECURES alone more than A MILLION of money ! — a
family, one member of which has received 4000/. a year, as Auditor of the Ex
chequer, for more than fifty years — that is something like 200,0002. Yes, and for
this enormous sum of money, it is well known that he never did any-tbiug. So far
frora this, that though the only thing he had to do, was to sign Exchequer bills ;
his neglect to do it permitted that great culprit H'aslitt to escape, while so many
less criminal were executed. When this man was brought before the judges, they
gave their opinion that the Exchequer bills were not legal — that they were not
money — never having been signed ; and upon that plea the great culprit escaped.
Well, then, the Exchequer bills were never legal — they were never money, for tliey
had none of them been signed ; so that we had hundreds of these things passing
about in an illegal shape ! But, then, my Lord Grenville, of course, signed the
Exchequer bills in future. No, indeed ; au act was passed, permitting his clekk to
sign them, though he retained the 40002. a year. Judge, then, whether he is likely
to rejoice in a cause lik'e this I Another observation with regard to him, yet moro
monstrous than this. As the Auditor of the Exchequer — the person who examines
acd checks the accounts of the Treasury — he had 4000/. a year ; — of course, upou
the presumption that he did his duty. Very well. By and by he was himself ap
pointed first Lord of the Treasury. The Whigs, the honest Whigs, who were then
rn office, of course, said, " This is unconstitutional ; rt canuet be that a man should
be appointed to examine and pass his own accounts." W'tnit were tbey to do then ?
Why, to appoint somebody else to the office, to be sure ? Oil, no ! tbey^assed an
act to amalgamate the two ofBces in one. Yes, gentlemen, ihe faooett Whigs passed
an act, beginning, " Whereas it is expedient that Lord Grenville sbooM have tbe
salaries of tbe two offices of first Lord of the Treasury, and Auditor of tbe Exche
quer, be it enacted that it shall be lawful for him to fill tliem both ! " It was said,
asl recollect, that the Foxites — (for it was Fox— the great Fox — who bimself lirought
in the bill) — it was said, it was only wanted that the Foxites should liave appeared on
the occasion, in the Windsor uniform, to render the thing complete.
Is it likely, then, 1 ask, that the Grenvilles should rejoice at what the French hare
done? They did what they have done, because they were about to be deprived of
the power to choose their own parliament ; and every Grenville knows that if WE
did this, they would not retain their sinecures for more than twenty-four hours
afterwarils. What we have to be on our guard against just now, is raock reform.
Take my word for it, there will be plenty of talking in the new parliainent about
reforra. Yes; they must now talk about it ; they will be cunning enough to perceive
that something MUST be done; depend upon it we shall have nothing so flagrant
as an opposition to my Lord John Russell's modest scherae. Oh, no ! they will give
him his fOur merabers for Leeds and Birmingham, very readily ; but one thing they
will avoid, as the sailor avoids the rodk — that is THE BALLOT. They will give
the right of election to Manchester and Leeds, but they will make a certain qualifi
cation, and above all things they will protest against the ballot. "Let every man
come up boldly and manfully," say they, " and give his vote." Yes, the/11 do this,
I'll warrant ye, when their unconstitutional power is taken from them; then they'll
come up, boldly and manfully. Til warrant ye; but till the aristocracy is pat to
rights, and society is what it ought to be, the safe way is to rest on the ballot.*
Small as were the corruptions of the French Government — trifling as were tlie
sums of money they had to distribute — the French people would never have returned
the last chamber of deputies, had they not possessed the ballot. Above all things in
the world, then, if a man talk of reform, and object to the ballot, set him down as
a fellow hired by your foes ; as one intendiug to defeat, and not to assist in carrying^
the thing into effect.
* We hope every man who cau by possibility lay out three-pence, will procure, and
first read himself, and then lend to his neighbours, au article on the Ballot, just
reprinted from the Westminster Review.

If
Can any-boay believe that if we had a parliament really chosen by the people, we
should be in the condition we now are, with tradesmen the most industrious, finding
themselves ruined without knowing why ? Should we be as we now are, having
hundreds and thousands nearly starving in every part of the country,— a fact given
in evidence before the House of Commons ! Could we be thus, I ask, if we had a
House of Commons chosen by the people— a House chosen by tbe whole people,
without a qualification of property ? I say, without a qualification of property ; for
what is property? It is the fruit of labour : labour began before tangible property ;
property arose out of labour, and not labour out of property. Every mau, then, has a
property in his labour. But if tbat were not so clear, let me ask you, Has not every
man a property in his body ? Do the aristocracy say, " You area low fellow, you shall
not serve iu the militia ?" Oh, no ! But suppose that an enemy were landing on the
shores to take away the property iu the country, and the poor men were to say,
"¦What is that to us? they are not going to take our property; why should we
fight ? How can we be treated worse by the enemy than by you ?" 1 say that every
man  and a person tainted by crirae is not a man, within the law, any more than is
a minor who is represented by his guardian— every man, I say, in the community,
rich or poor, lord or pauper, has a right to a voice in choosing those who are to make
the laws to which he must submit.
A great deal has been said about the expediency of this kind nf reform ; that is,
about the practicability of bringing so many men together to yote. Oh! it would
be monstrous difficult, they say. " There would be such a hurly-burly — such con
fusion — such rioting! Oh! it would be outrageous and monstrous !" Why, gentle
men, they find no difficulty in making us all come to pay the incorae tax, or .to put
our names down to serve in the militia. "Aye," say they, " hut you proppse that
lodgers should have a vote, as well as housekeepers." Yes, gentlemen, and does not
the constable require us to give, in our return-paper, the names of our lodgers as
well as ourselves ? Oh ! it is easy to find difficulties where there is no raind to do a
thing. I say, and every raan sees, that there is no difficulty in the thing. There
would be no difficulty inarranging the business beforehand, and there would be as
little in taking the votes by ballot. Yes, and they know this very well ; and it is
because they know that there would be no confusion, but that all would he just and
right, that they will not have it so.
1 ara persuaded, gentlemen, that there is not a man among you so unjust as to
think of taking away the vote from a pauper. What is a pauper ? Why, a very
poor man ; that is all. And is a raan to be punished for extrerae poverty, arising,
nine tiines out of ten, not from any sin committed by himself, but from some
bodily ailment, some want of skill iu his trade or profession, or some calamity
which could not be foreseen. But suppose this case. Suppose a farmer or a trades
man very well off to-day, to be reduced by tire, or flood, or some other calamity, to
poverty to-morrow, he would then be a pauper; but would you, because ofthis
misfortune, take away his political rights ? Would you tear asunder his last and
only stay, and thus rend the heart-strings of the man whom misfortune had
stricken ? , '
On these principles 1 have always contended for the right of every raan to vote for
members of parliament. This is the great characteristic distinction between the
free-man and the slave; and I beg that especially the young men present will mark
this as the characteristic distinction between these classes of human beings. A man
who has a voice in choosing those who make the laws is a free-man ; the man who
is refused that liberty is a slave, though he may call himself a free-born English
man. The slave has no property, it may be said ; and I ask, Can that man be said
to have any property who has uo voice iu making the laws, and in choosing those
who lay the taxes upon him ? To be sure, they can take more or less ; and as a
French writer says, they display great intelligence in the way in which they do it.
They do not take it all; oh! no, that would not do. Like the fanner's wife with
the bees, they leave us just as much as is necessary for us to go on working to
accumulate more. But if they can take away part, they can take away the whole ;
and the mau who is liable to this, call hiraself what he may, is a slave. Labour is
property, according to all the principles of civil society ; but if they can take tbe
labour from a man^f they can say, " You shall work, and we will take away as
much of the fruit of it as our discretion shall suggest," is the raan to whora this
can be said, any-thing more than a slave? And as to such men hot bejng bought or
sold as the blacks are ; why, the blacks ara not bought and sold for their blood and
bones, but for the labour they bring ; and therefore the principle is the same. But
white men can be sold, and white men are sold, by the week and the month all

over England. Do you call such men free, on account of the colour of 'their skin ?
No: but these are the ineu, who, above all others, should have a voice in choosipg
the representatives.
I raight mention a hundred things that would never have been done if the people
had exercised a voice in choosing the members of parliament; but I can now only
advert to one or two. The soldier and the lord are relieved frora paying the postage
of letters, while every labouring man has to pay the postage. Then, again, look at
the window tax. The poor man whose number of windows is small, has to pay for
eight windows at the rate of two shillings each, while the lord, for above 180 windows,
has to pay bat one shilling and sixpence. ISut the niosi extensively cruel thing, is
that levelled against persons in the iniddle ranks in life, for the purpose of keeping
them fromf rising to rival the aristocracy, I mean the probate duty. If a lord die, his
landed estates pass quietly to his children, without the payment of any tax. Au estate
worth a million, belonging to a lord, pays not a farthing tax, while persons in the
iniddle rank, whose property consists of goods, the lease aud goodwill of a house, and
stock in trade, have to pay, in case of a transfer of this, on a death, an enormous tax.
If a tradesman die, and leave a little property of this description, upon which bis
family is dependant for the means of subsistence, the first office of the widow 'm to
turn part of it into money, and carry it to the Government; while the lord aud his
estates pass without any payment at all. We have no income tax at present, but it
Jid exist for twenty years ; and just mark the crying injustice of its character. This
property tax — for they would not call it an income tax, but a property tax — this tax
was universally levied, for every man was presumed to have property, though this is
denied wh^n we talk about the right of every mau to vote. Very well. The surgeoji
with a thous'and a year, and the lord with a thousand a year, had each a hundred a
year to pay into the Exchequer. There, said the lord, are we not strictly impartial ?
Is not, this niost fair and equitable ? Our incomes are equal, and we pay an equal tax
to the Government ! But, gentlemen, the lord cannot impose this representation upon
your understandings. It is true that the surgeon paid no heavier a tax than the lord
didy but we'know that the surgeon bad to work like a horse for his thousand a year,
and that its continuance depended upon his life, and labour, and skill, and charac
ter ; while the lord's was unworked for and perraanent. If the surgeon died, his
professional income would not fetch above three or four years' purchase, while the
lord's estate would be worth thirty-five years. When the lord dies, his widow and
orphans receive the same income in amount ; when the surgeon dies, his widow and
family get nothing, or next to it. The fact is, that the surgeon paid eleven tiines as
much as the lord, while living, and when dead, one paid every-thing, and the other
nothing. Do you beljeve, gentlemen, that a parliaraent representing all classes of the cora
munity would have passed such a law as this ? We have no protection till we votefor
those who make all the laws, but particularly those which take the taxes out of
our pockets.
In conclusion, 1 will only make one remark. I perceive from the papers that the
Parliament is to meet for the dispatch of business in the month of October. It has
greatly puzzled me to know what it can be called together for. I cau see no reason
in the world. Before the last Parliament was dissolved, there was a great bustle
about a Regency Bill, which was represented as being of very pressing necessity ;
but it was not brought forward, aud there is now no appearance of it being wanted,
for we have a King who seems likely to live for at least twenty years to come. Gen
tlemen, I rejoice at this; from my heart I wish this King may livelong ; I am sure he
will not trouble us, or do us any harm, whatever he may do to the ministers. However,
it cannot be the Regency Bill that has called them together. As to supplies of money,
it cannot be for these, because you know that before they dissolved the Hoiise they
took a vote of credit, quite sufficient you may be sure to last them till next February.
It puzzles me, then, to conceive why parliamentis called together in October. They
have acknowledged the new order of things in France, and from a motive which is
sufficient with every body — tbey could not help it! Nor cau ithe the Revolution in
Belgium, of which accounts have been received to-day, though if they did not foresee
that, it was strange indeed. Bat I will tell you what I suspect it is — you know there
can be no harra in telling you ray raind, thmigh it should be altogether wrong.
Well, then, I suspect that the parliament is called together because the rainisters
are not sure that the travelling of the gold out of the country will not call for a very
stiff measure before the 26th of October.
There remains rauch to be said, as to what should be our proceedings under pre
sent circumstances ; but 1 cannot now enlarge. Our conduct may, however, be

withdut haste or indecorum ; and I believe, that if we act properly, U will be effectnal.
We may by our conduct compel them to make some sort of reforra; and if tbey once
begin, they must go on.
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A SECOND
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
B"2" •WILLIAM COBBETT.
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge, on
Mondatj, Sept., 6th.

Gentlemen, , , ,
, , Agreeahly to the intiraation given last week, and which intimation you have
kinc|Iy attended to, it is my intention to deliver another lecture, or to make some
observations, for the purpose of showing what ought to be the conduct of the people
in this country in. consequence of, the recent revolution in France. Gentlemen, our
rulers could not but be singularly well pleased if they were here, to see so many of the
working people collected together, with an intention of receiving information. You
know well what disinterested pains they have taken to instruct the working people
(laughter)— ;how generous tbey have been — how liberally they have subscribed to
Sunday schools, and National schools, and Lancasterian Schools, and schools in
every shape; you know how they:bave contributed to associations for issuing aud
circulating tracts of all sorts and sizes — how they have sent forth h,undreds and
thousands of persons to distribute their tracts gratis, or to sell them as low as a far
thing a piece, or sixpence a score. Gentlemen, you well know ^11 this (laughter); but I
would just .ask you. Is it not rather singular, that while they havebeeu doingiall this
they have passed laws to punish any man, and raost severely too, who should furnish
the people with cheap publications ? (Loud murmurs, and cries of shame.) Gentle
men, Mr. Strange, who is publishing a nice little Histohy of the French
Revolution, in weekly numbers, at two-pence each, would, one .would think, have
tbe governraent to applaud his efforts in this undertaking, as .they wish the people to
be so well informed. Not at all ! They have a law to punish Mr. Strange, and to
punish him severely too, for publishing this history of the French Revolution in
Qheap numbers, that the people may procure it. But Mr. Strange has spirit enough
to set them at defiance. He means to try Us strength with them, and he is publishing
his History, and he means to continue publishing his History till it is completed.
(Immense cheering.) 1 say, then, it is very strange, that while the government
have been taking such, pains lo instruct the people of the v>'orking classes, by send-
[ {Second Edition.)— Strange, 21, Paternoster-row,— Price Three-pence, "^

ing them tracts at a farthing a piece, they should pass laws to prevent me, for in
stance, from publishing any-thing for less than sixpence, if published weekly. Few
people know thelaws that have passed in this respect. The case stands thus : If arty
man publish any-thing touching on news, or any-thing that may be construed to
have a connexion with politics, he is liable to a penally of not less than twenty
pounds a copy; that is to say, if he publish at a lower price than sixpence, and
oftener than once a month. Thus, I was publishing something once a week, at the
Price of two-pence, of which 40,000 or 50,000 were sold, and circulated among the
working classes. Well, the government passed a law to say if I continued so do so,
I should pay a fine of twenty pounds for every copy I sold. (Cries of Shame, shame.)
But then they very kindly added, that I might, if I liked, publish once a raonth ; that
was quite often enough for the working people to read such things as I was in the
habit of publishing. Tobe sure, they gave rae leave still to publish, once a week, if
X charged sixpence a copy ; but then it raust contain two sheets and a quarter of
paper, filled wjth print, so that I should get nothing out of it to pay for jny time or
labour. So you see, gentlemen, that they were not like the Bourbons ; they did not
issue an order to say. You shall not print and publish at all, but they put sueh an
impost upon my printing and publisliing, as answered all the purposes of an ordon-
nance, without having, as they thought, any of the odium of an ordonnance attached
to it.
Now, gentlemen, the mode that I ara pursuing here, under your indulgence, is
effectual, in sortie respects, to the diffusion of information. There are, in the first
place, all the persons present, who hear what is said; and then, Mr. Strange is
having these lectures taken down, very fully and very accurately, and publishing
them, immediately after they are delivered, at the low price of twopence each. Thus
he and I are concurring with our rulers, to give the working people cheap informa
tion. (Applause.)
I proposed, when I last addressed you, to offer to you my opinions upon what we
ought now to do, in order to obtain a real and effectual reform in parliament, having
shown, satisfactorily I hope, that without it we do nothing with cfl'ect. (Cheers.)
Depend upon it, gentlemen, we shall have plenty of persons in parliaraent, when it
meets, pretending to be reformers. Their great object will be to contrive how they
may talk about reform without doing any-thing; the next thing, if they cannot pass
off without doing something — that is, if we are not in a humour to put up with no
thing — their next object, in this case, will be to do as little as possible, and to do this
in such a manner that one part shall mar and neutralise the other. (Cheers.) So
tbat, at the best, we shall be as far off as ever — that is, if they can so contrive it, and
we will be satisfied with their doings. There is one test, however, which 1 propose
you should apply to the whole of these reformers. If you hear a man professing
friendship for reform — if you hear any one expressing a desire that there should be
a reform of tbe parliament — the way to test sucb a one will be to say to him, " Are
you for the ballot or not .'" (Great cheering.) I contend that it is the right of every
man — as I showed you when I had the honour to address you before — I contend
that it is the right of every man, unless he have committed sorae crime, or be a
minor, to have a vote ; but I should be satisfied for tbe present — at least the end
would be answered — with something short of this, if they would give us the ballot.
(Applause.) Our way is to contend for the whole rights of the people ; and for every
man to have a vote is his right, according to the laws of civil society, aye, and of the
country too. I say, then, our way is to contend for the whole rights of tbe people 
for universal suffrage, for new parliaments, as often as those who shall be elected to
deliberate upon such questions shall think them necessary ; but above all things in
the world, taking the vote by ballot. (Imnienseapplause.)
Gentlemen, Mr. Broughara and Mr. Deumau have both given their decided
opinions; Mr, Brougham, to be sure, opposed Mr. O'Connell's motion last winter;

but they have both given their decided opinions hostile to the ballot. And it is very
singular that they should bring the very argument against it which we urge in its
favour — namely, the example of the French people. " There," say they, " look at
the disturbances in France; these are the effects ofthe ballot." And very happy dis
turbances they are too. 1 do not say 1 wish to see the same sort of disturbances
here ; but I do hope to see the same thing effected without the disturbances. Gen
tlemen, is it not evident to the whole world, that it was the ballot that brought the
thing to the crisis in France ? Ifit had not been for that, there would have been a
Chamber of Deputies corrupt enough for the boroughmongers of England ; a Cham.
ber aS pliant and as base as any assembly in the world — as any assembly I could
name, or tell you to think of. (Laughter.) Yes, gentlemen, they would have had a
Chamber as base aud as hypocritical as that. But having the ballot, there was an
assembly that would not bend to the wishes ofthe king ; and as they would not bend
to his wishes, he tried his strength with them, and that led to the events which we
now so greatly admire.
Gentlemen, before I proceed to give you my opinion as to the manner in which
WE should go to work, there is a good deal that men who labour have not the leisure
to attend to that should be well understood, and which we, who live in idleness
(laughter) ; we who are worked for and clothed and fed by you, are bound in duty
to make you see aud understand. Well, then, with regard to the plot and proceed
ings of the French kiug, it should be well understood, that there is every reason in
the world for believing, that it was hatched by the borougbmongers of England.
How stood the case ? Suffer me tb go back a little, and take a short view of the
whole matter; to look at the conduct ofthe boroughmongers, and see if it is not
certain that they not only batched the plot, but that they also set Polignac to work to
carry it into effect.
, Forty years ago, when the French revolution was beginning, or rather when \ye
were preparing for a war against it, how stood the question between England and
France .' It stood thus. We had despised Frenchmen for 300 years ; we represented
the people as poltroons and slaves, their king as a tyrant, their noblesse as petty
despots, and theii- clergy as teaching a religion that vvas idolatrous and damnable.
We all recollect soup-meagre, frogs, and sallad. (Laughter.) We had been taught
it from our infancy — to lisp it on our mother's knees ; we had been taught it by
speeches in parliament, by sermons from the pulpit, and in all-sized books, from a
folio to a farthing tract. Yery well, at the end of 300 years the French people aroused
themselves; they said. We will stand this no longer; we will be as free as the English.
To work they went; out they turned that royal faraily we bad called tyrants ; away
tbey drove that nobility we had called petty despots ; and off they scared that clergy
who we had afBrmed to be teaching a religion that was idolatrous and damnable. And
what did our rulers ? Receive the runaways with open arras ! What ! the tyrannical
king and family, the despotic noblesse, and the idolatrous clergy ! Yes, aud more
than this ; for we gave them raoney and comforts of all kinds, and the Bishop of Ro
chester told his clergy to receive the strangers witb open arras, for that they ought to be
dearer to them than the English dissenters. Their sincerity was here pnt to the
test, and exhibited to all the world. But had they stopped here, it would not have
been so bad : they, however, made the people pay pretty dearly, in addition, and the
taxes we now pay go in part for the interest of the debt that was then contracted.
We had to keep them, and to pension them, and some of tbem continue on the list
to this day, notwithstanding their return to France. But even this was not enough ;
we must go to war for thera — to put back the tyrant kiug, and the despotic noblesse,
and the idolatrous clergy ; we must goto war and spend raillions for them. And
wherefore ? Why, they reasoned thus : they said, " If this thing stand in France ; if
they carry on their government in peace, and live happily without a nobility and with
out tithes, then there must be a change in England. The reformers of England,

too, were not inactive. They were forming conventions, and associations, and
clamouring for reform. The aristocracy, therefore, had their choice, either to make
a reform in pariiament, or toplunge the country iuto war. They, as you all know,
chose the latter ; and we know, also, the result. After all the brave exploits of the
French, we forced the Bourbons back ou them, by the aid of 1,011,000, for which we
have now to pay. Louis XVIII. therefore said, he owed his crown to the Prince Re
gent—he owed it to our purses, to be sure. As long as this country could be made to
maintain him, there he and his family were; when we could maintain them no
longer, then they ceased to be. This, gentlemen, is tbe whole matter. Though the
French had got the Bourbons forced back upon thera again, they had not got the
tithes back again, and tliey had, in addition to this exemption, a chamber of
deputies. Our government, therefore, were not at their heart's ease. They said,.
If we suffer this to go on, we cannot hold our ground here in England without a
reform in parliament ; and therefore it was that they hatched this plot; that they
were anxious to stimulate the Bourbons to destroy the bit of representation the people
had got. Had they succeeded, what would have been the consequence ? Why, they
would have turned round, and said to us : Poh ! you are bellowing for reform ; why,
tbe French bad what you now want, and you see they could not go on with it ; they
have been obliged to give it up. (Laughter and cheers.) I repeat it, therefore, that
our boroughmongers had the most powerful motive in the world for doing what they
have done. Common sense saw that if the thing continued as it was in France, the
chamber of deputies telling the king, in answer to his fiumraery speech, that they
would not give him any money till he turned out bis ministers ; that they did not
approve of them, and would not trust them with the money — not like our shilly
shally set, who think they do great things if they merely say a few words — our
boroughmongers saw that so long as this continued they could not keep off reform
in England. I repeat it, therefore, once more, that these men had the strongest
motives to hatch the plot, and to urge Polignac on to its execution. And now give
me leave to state a few facts, to show you that they did this.
Polignac, the prime mover in the thing, was, as he himself used to say, seven-
eighths of an Englishman, and that of the worst sort. He was born in France, but
was an emigrant; that is, one of those who ran away at the time ofthe revolution of
1789. He came to England, and here he has resided. So that being brought up in
England, having married an English wife, and having been brought up amongst the
boroughmongers, he must be confessed to be, indeed, seven-eighths of an English
man. Well, he was chosen by the king of France to be au ambassador — you see it
was all one concern, a kind of partnership, he being here on the part of the house in
France, (laughter,) and at last he via.s sent over to be the head of the cabinet. The
moment he arrived in France, the preparations for this plot began. Concurrent with
bis returu there appeared a pamphlet, said to be written by one M. Coitu, recom
mending precisely what was being effected. Cottu said to Polignac, '• You have
beeu a good while ia England, but you mistake the matter. You want such a go
vernment in France as they have in England. There the aristocracy, and the go
vernment, and a few rich commoners, (jluiose the majority of the representatives."
Well, Cottu's pamphlet comes to England, is reviewed in that government publi
cation the Quarterly Keview, where it is praised to the skies. Tbe reviewer, in
MAY, mind, says, that unless tbe French government put an end to the freedom uf
the press, and take away the right of representation, putting it into the hands of ihe
aristocracy and the crown, during this year, we may buckle on our arraour for
aquarterof a century of war. Now, how came this man— this reviewer— to know
in MAY what Polignac did in JULY .' The truth is, that the pamphlet of Cottu was
written in English, and in this country too ; and it was then taken over to France,
translated into French, and put forth as the work of M. Cottu. Thus was tbe plot con
certed, and they had no more idea of ita failure than 1 have that you will all fall down

dead at this moment. They thought they were sure of their mark— they called it a
coup d'etat, that is, a stroke of state, and felt sure that it would succeed to a cer-
taintj'. No men were ever so astounded as they were wheu it failed. They saw
no power to which they could apply for aid ; there were no gentlemen bankers to
come out to assist them, and even the deputies were ready to risk their lives
agaiust them. They little thought, however, that the men who worked in the shops
and manufactories — they little thought that these were the fellows whowere to rescue
their country from this act of tyranny. They knew that they bad 20,000 troops
within and around the walls of Paris, and they had given the command of them to
a general of great experience. And while the firing was going on, aud the old king
was playing at cards in his palace ; some one ran to him, aud besought hira for God's
sake to repeal the ordonnances ; he, however, did not leave off his cards, but
merely remarked that the Swiss would soon put all to right; so sure were they of
their mark I 1 trust there is not a country in Europe, where similar strokes are
attempted, where the working classes would not be found the same as at Paris.
(Immense applause.)
Well, the plot having failed, we became modest ; that is, the aristocracy ; for we
must t^ke some credit to ourselves for the spontaneous cry of approbation which vvas
heard from one end of the kingdom to the other. This showed that however much
we had beeu bowed down — however much we were unlike our forefathers — we had
still enough of the Englishman left about us to rejoice at the triumph of freedora
over tyranny. Nothing surprised our boroughmongers more thau these acclama
tions of the people. They thought they had thera in so nice a chain ; first the lord,
then the steward, then the farmer, then the shopkeeper, theu the labourer or artisan
— each one dependent upon the one above him, and all so nicely locked together that
they believed it impossible for any one of thera even to express a sentiment different
from that which their lord wished. But they have found themselves deceived. Even
at Portsmouth amidst dock-yards, and their accompaniments and influences, they
could not suppress the voice of the people. Aye, at Portsmouth has been seen a
mark of their signal defeat. The French king comes to England, and there he lies
under the protection ofthe republican flag of America (cheers) ; every raeans is era
ployed to secure him a popular reception upon landing ; but he dare not land there,
though amidst dock-yards, government men, and the immense expenditure of public
money that is made there ! In .spite of all sorts of endeavours and advices to prevail
upon the people in England not to insult a fallen man, " their honesty " would not
suffer them to allow of the tyrant's landing, without the utterance of their sentiments.
Not being able to land at Portsmouth, tben, they sent him to Poole, the little
despicable town of Poole ; but even there they durst not land him, and were there
fore compelled to carry him along in the steara-boat, and get him out on the beach,
opposite to the house in which he now hides himself. (Applause.) This con4uct on
the part of the English people reflects great honour on the country, and I can state,
upon unquestionable authority, that it has produced the best effects in France, in a
reconciliation between the two people. (Cheers.) And why should they be enemies >
For a century at a time our forefathers were at peace with France ; and French wine
was then as plentiful in the country as beer. \Vhy sliould not the French receive
the wool from our sheep, and we the wine frora their vineyards .' It is because cer
tain persons find it to be their interest to erect a barrier between the two countries,
and to raise'a custora-bouse on each side of the water. But why should that be ? I
trust that now the times are coming that the mutual interest of the two people will
be the standard of public measures. (Cheers.) In order that this may be ef
fected, we must have men to represent us in parliament, as well as the French have.
It is notorious that we have not got this ; for the French writer, Cottu, tells the
people of France, that it is bad for the people to have this representation; andhe
affirms that the people of England are quiet because they are not represented. Out

of the 658 members of parliament, he says, truly, that there are so many returned
by the peers, so many by the Government, so many by the rich commoners, and so
many — a very small number, indeed — by the people. This he affirms to be the
reason we are so quiet ! (Laughter.) Gentlemen, ifl had this man by the ear, I would
say to him, This is the reason I have to pay FOQRPENCE FARTHING to the Go
vernment out of each SIXPENCE I receive for a Register; and that it is forthe
same reasou that every labouring man has to pay SIXPENCE for a quantity of beer,
which, if he were fairly represented, he wouldgetforTHREE HALF-PEiSrCE. Yes,
gentlemen, we are quiet enough, God knows. We are left lo be as quiet as bees, as
a French writer has remarked. Nobody coraes to interrupt us. The boroughmon
gers say, "Let them alone ; don't disturb thera by any means." If a disturbance
or a riot occur in a manufacturing town, " Oh," they say, " put down the riot — put
down the riot ! Let every-thing be quiet — let every-thing be peaceable — that nothing
may interrupt their labour '." (Laughter.) Why, to be sure, gentlemen, it wouldbe
as unnatural fur them to suffer riots aud disturbances to occur among the labouring
classes, as it would for the farmer's wife to suffer a disturbance to be created among
her bees. Aye, to be sure ; if a dog were to run toward the bee-hive, or a little
urchin were to take a stick to knock them about, oh ! what a twitter and a fever
would the farmer's wife be in ' " Go away, you nasty thing," she would scream
out, "you'll disturb or hurt the poor little bees, and prevent them from making
the honey." Oh ! yes ; she takes great care of her poor little bees till they have
filled the combs with honey ; and then — she stifles them all. (Great laughter.) Yes,
she then, out of pure love, claps them over a hole, with a lump of burning brimstone
in it, and takes away the honey. (Renewed laughter.) Gentlemen, when you hear
our boroughmongers expressing their great desire that there should be no riotings,
no disturbances among the people — that every-thing should go ou quietly and peace
ably, think of the farmer's wife and the bees. (Cheers.) In order that you may not
be put over tbe sulphur, that you may keep the little honey — little enough, God
knows— which they have left you— that 1 myself may do this, for that, perhaps, will
be tbe better way of putting it — attend to a few facts.
When I ask for parliamentary reforra, they say I raean a revolution. Thatis
very odd ; but the answer I give is this. One of your own body bas stated, that 154
peers return a majority of the whole House of Commons. You call yourselves the
representatives of the people, and yet one of yourselves offers to prove that you are
nothing but the representatives of the peers and the ministers. Now, surely, itis
not very revolutionary, not very impudent, to say, .We want you TO BE what you
SAY YOU ARE-our REPRESENTATIVES. But the moment 1 say this, I am a
revolutionist— a jacobin— I want to turn every thing topsy-turvy ! Well, and sup
pose I did want this .' What then > We had one revolution, and we call it a glorious
revolution- with how much propriety I had tbe honour to show you the last time I
was here— but if a revolution may be glorious one time, why not another .' Surely,
we can't have too much of a good thing. (Laughter, and cheers.) Besides, it comes
ouly once in 140 years. (Cheers.) The Morning Post says, as I am told bv some
person who reads it, " Oh, as to Mr. Cobbett, he speaks out ; we can 'under
stand him ; he tells you he wants a revolution." Now, gentlemen, I never have
said so, but I will say so now ; (immense cheering ;) I now say distinctly, I do
want a revolution. (Renewed cheering.) And now, what is a revolutiou .' What is
It .' 1 he word means change : nothing more ; and made use of as it o-enerally is in
politics. It means a great and a general change. Now, then, 1 want a revolution.
(Applause.) Gentlemen, it will be a great change, indeed, that will make rae cease
to pay FOURPENCE FARTHING out of every sixpence. But this is what I want ; and
if you will have this to be a revolution, why, to be sure, I want a revolution. I
want not to pay FOURPENCE FARTHING to the Government, out of every six
pence I take for a Register, and have but SEVEN FARTHINGS left to pay for

paper; print, pilblisMng; and' authorship. (Cheers;) 1 want siich a change as will
give the Government only about a halfpenfy ; and the poor man vfants such a
change as will leave him but about three halfpence to pay for his beer, instead of
sixPE[>iCE. This, gentleraen, is a very important raatter. Beer is the drink uf all the
people of this country, and it bears this intolerable tax ; while the aristocracy pay
on the wines and other articles of luxury which are brought into the country for
them, a inere trifle. " Oh ! but," say they, " there is not so much as fourpence-
halfpenny out of each sixpence paid for beer, iraposed as a tax." Well, this raay be
true, in one sense, but in effect it is the same ; there is the license — the restraint on
the seller — and the monopoly of the maltster, the hop-grower, and the brewer ; and
for all this the poor raan who drinks the beer has to pay out of his pocket. Now, I
want a revolution that will prevent these raonopolies and payments ; and I ara sure
that the poor raan Wants it too. (Applause.)
But, gentleraen, it is not only in pamphlets and in beer; itis the same in every
other article alraost. In Araerica a farmer makes his own candles and soap in his
house; and if we were permitted to do this, these necessary articles would not cost
us half what they now do. Sugar, also ; does there not want a revolution in that ?
And tea ? The very first thing they do at its sale, is to take half its cost for a tax.
Thus, every pound of tea that sells for 2s. 6d. pays 2s. duty. Then there ai'e the
consequent expenses afterwards — licenses, permits, &c. — so that out of every 5s. a
poor man pays for tea, 2s. at the least is a tax. (Shame, shame '.) We want a change
therefore ; but this we shall never get without a real and eflicient reform in the par
liament. (Cheers.)
Now, to promote this, I ara going to recommend to each one to do something in
his respective circle. Let not this be thought of little consequennce. Every man
should feel that what is everybody's business is nobody's business ; he should say. If
I do nothing, nothing will be done. (Applause.) I am for us — before parliament
meets, if possible, but I vfould not therefore have it done in haste — I am for us, be
fore parliament meets, if possible, to petition the king, with firtnness and propriety.
(Immense applause;) The several trades, carpenters, shoemakers; tailors, cabinet
makers, and others, are in the habitof meeting together; now, why can they not, when
thus assembled, driw up a petition to the king, and get it signed for presentation ?
Gentleraen, there is every reason to believe that the present kiug is— as he ought to be
—very desii-ous to stand well with the great body of his people; (Cheers.) There
¦ have been already seen in his presei/t Majesty a great many acts Of real kindness.
There are indications of a goodness of heart discovered in him which we have never
discovered in anyformer king ; of which I, in fact,bave never heard of before. (Re
newed cheering.) Aye, and there is one great sign in favour of his Majesty's disposi-
. tion towards his people ; and it is this— that the borougiiraongers and the aristocracy
do not speak of hirti in a high tone of praise. Gentlehaen, I do not know a better cri
terion than that. We may form our judgment of the king from that. But there is
something more important in reference to what I am now proposing to you. The
king has already received, in person, a petition from working people. Most of you
saw, no doubt, a statement in the papers a few days since, of a deputation from the
button-makers of Birmingham, going up to his Majesty with a petition, representing
fo him the depressed state of the trade, and praying his Majesty to do something
towards alleviating their distress. And the king received their petition with the
Utmost kindness, conversed freely and affably with tbe men, and promised thera to
do what he could in furtherance of their wishes. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, this is a
most important circumstance. You know that for forty years past a new order of
things bas been introduced at Court, relative to the presenting of petitions to the
king. One of the privileges from which even despots have not excluded their subjects
i^, that they may be permitted to appear before thein, and present their prayers. And
iiirely, gentlemen, that which God permits, they may condescend to permit. Even

the despot of France, before he was driven away, would receive a petition from any
of his subjects. The Emperor uf Russia, too, will do the same. But we. English
men, have'been forbidden, for nearly 40 years, to present a petition to the king. If
I want to present a petition to ihe king, I must carry it to the Secretary of State, and
there leave it. But thait is not petitioning the king. Suppose, now, we had a peti
tion to present against Mr. Peel's gendarmerie — and here I say nothing either hos
tile or favourable to the men ; they may be, for all that I know, quite as good a body
of men as it wouldbe possible to get together — but suppose we had a petition against
Mr. Peel's system of gendarmerie to present to his Majesty— the very thing they are
now going to do at Ealing, and which I am sure is likely lo be done from ail parts of
the Metropolis and its neighbourhood — suppose we had a petition of this kind to pre
sent to the king, and this were followed by a great raany raore of the. sarae kind, and
these were placed in the bands of Mr. Peel ; do you think it likely, gentleraen, that
Mr. Peel would carry thera to his Majesty, and say, " May it please your Majesty,
here are a great number of petitions which are well worthy your Majesty's attention"?'
No, it is not likely ; and therefore this is not to petition the king. Three or four
years ago, I recollect, some person who said he had been ill-used, wished to lay his
grievances before the late king, and not being able to do so in any other way, he
waited in Pall Mall, and as his Majesty was coming out of St. James's, he threw his
petition into the carriage. One of the attendants on the king immediately dashed it
on the ground, and the man was surrounded by constables. Is that the right of pe
titioning .' (Murmurs of disapprobation.) Why, gentlemen, there was only one thing
reserved to us, the people, at the " glorious revolution," as they call it, and thatwas,
the right of petitioning tbe king or either house of parliament. Now, however, we
may congratulate ourselves upon a change in the system. The deputation from
Birmingham, as I have said, were not rejected by the king. He received their pe
tition in person, spoke to thera kindly, and after they had departed, he ordered his
secretary. Sir Herbert Taylor, to write them an answer, and to express his Majesty's
desire, to do all he could to alleviate their suffering. (Immense cheering.) This
precedent is worth any-thing to us. If the king will receive a petition in that manner,
there is an end to the boroughmongers. Itis more than we can expect that he should
come out and talk with us ; we could not desire it, for it would be utterly irapracti
cable, and the less we desired of this nature the more weight would it "ive to our
petitions ; but lo know that the king had received our petition, and to be assured of
this by his Majesty, through some accredited person, would be quite enough fer us.
Gentlemen, never can it be said in future, after the king has received this petition
from Birmingham, that his Majesty cannot, or will not, receive petitions from his
working people, be they, whom they may. F.or if that were the case, what would be
the inference ? Why, that it was because we did not take hira a present. The peo
ple from Birmingham brought him a handsome present; but depend upon it the
king would never suffer it to be said that this was the cause of bis receiving their
petition. No, no ; be you assured of that. (Cheers.) The king could not prevent
their bringing the present ; but it was not on account of the present that he received
the petition ; but because he thought it his duty to do so ; aud if he thought so then,
he will think so in future. We have therefore every encouragement in the world.
As to the tone and raanner of tbe petition that! should wish you to present 1 must
reserve myself till Thursday, when 1 will lay it before you. I think it will be, a
proper, petition for eyeryrbody. Our virtuous pariiament, our pure pariiament, our
matchless pariiament (laughter), have sometimes said, " Oh, these petitions are all
¦of the same kind ;" and when we have sent them in printed petitions, they have ex
claimed, " Oh, these petitions are printed ! aye, they are all the work of the same
man !" Well, and why should they not be all in the same tone ? Why should they
not be printed ? Our rulers command us all to go to church on a Sunday, and to
pray together, in the same tone aud in the same words ; aye, and they have the

9
prayers printed too ; yes, and they are the same wordsi and the same prayers, and
the same books, that were used by our forefathers. Then, as to the petitions being
the work of the same man. How preposterous 1 Whence is to Come the complaint,
or the petition ? It raust be some one man to propose it. It must emanate from
somebody. All minds may be occupied about the same thing, but it must come from
some one band only. All cannot take up the pen and write a petition ; and what
objection, therefore, cau there be, that the same petition come from Manchester and
Southwark ? None. It is one of those pitiful grounds of quarrel hatched by insin
cerity, and soraething I do not care to describe, (Applause.) There ought to be
one uniform petition ; and they might be rerainded that uniforraity has been looked
upon as a great thing indeed ; that they have excluded raen from office and from
civil rights because they did not conform. There can, I repeat it, be no objection
to a uniform petition, and if you should agree to that which I will lay before you,
and go on with it,, and desire in a respectful manner to present it to the king, I'll
promise you it will not be without an effect. Do you think that if the king had in
his possession, before the meeting of parliament, five or six hundred such petitions —
and as many might be sent, with all facility, from London— do you think that if he
had in his possession five or six hundred such petitions, before the meeting of parlia
ment, do you not think, I ask, that they would produce in his mind a conviction of
the necessity for doing something for his people in the way of reform ? (Great
cheering.) They say that kings can do no wrong — we know they have done a great
deal — but that, is as rauch as to say, they can do no right; whereas we know that
already his present majesty has shown the contrary. Are we to believe that the king
would remain unconcerned, so much graciousness as he shows to the people — as he
ought to do, mind — but can it be believed that such a number of petitions would
not produce an impression in his mind ? — that he would not have any-thing.to say ?
We see proofs to the contrary. He had enough to say about cutting off whiskers ;
and he has every-where shown that he can do soraething. (Cheers.) But how cau
tbe king do any-thing without seeing that he has the people at his back ? Here,
above all things, is the point. We can with the greatest sincerity subrait to his
Majesty, that it is not his power that we wish to abridge ; that they are not' his pre
rogatives we wish to curtail ; that they are not his pleasures we wish to diminish.
No.— These are given to the king to protect us against the aristocracy. (Immense
cheering.) • - ' - '
Now, then, why are we not to appeal to the King to protect us from the borough
mongers ; to lay before him our sad story ; to reraind him that it has been proved,
and is notorious, that we are deprived of the power to choose our representatives ;
to show him that he would himself be much more a real king, and have much more
real power to do good, if he were restored to the full use of his prerogatives, which
have been taken but of his hands by this set of dirty boroughmongers ? For, gen
tlemen, you know that this base aristocracy has encroached on the crown in the
same degree as it has on the people. When they thought their power in danger— that
is, before they had got the complete mastership over both — they restricted the prero
gatives of the crown, and from that day to this both king and people have been
under their thumb. We all know that people are put into office, and pensions and
sinecures given, in which the king has no concern whatever. Indeed, so completely
havethe ministers assumed the power to themselves, that for years,eyen in the Houses
of Pariiament, the speech by which the king opens the Parliament, is treated as the
speech of the minister ! Can any-thing be more degrading to the king than this ?
Suppose that a merchant were to write a letter to any one, and this person were to
turn it about, and look at it, and examine it on all sides, and then say, " Oh yes, it has
your name to it, certainly ; but it is not your letter; it is your clerk's !" This, gentle
men would be a state of humiliation such as no man would subrait to be placed in.
No ¦' the speech from the throne should be ihe king's speech ; and those men who

10
act as his ministers, should be his ministers — his servants, in fact ; they should be at
his nod and call, and obey bim and his people through him. (Iramense cheering.)
But it has always heen so with the people, so with the king. In proportion as the
powerof the people has been diminished, has the power of-the king been diminished';
and on the contrary. They are both in the sarae boat; king and people are at the
mercy of the aristocracy. So it has been for about seventy-five years ; and we now
want to rescue his raajesty, as well as ourselves, from these base boroughmongers.
(Renewed applause.)
There is one subject I would take care to submit in sucb a petition — the CORN
LAWS. Was there ever any-thing like this in the world before .' Can they be
accounted for in any way, except that we are governed by men who have no common
feeling with the people ? The object of tbese laws is to make bread dearer than it
would be without thera. And what is it for, that at the very time when our manufac
turers are suffering from the high price of bread — and, mind, all other articles fol
low the price of this one — when manufacturers are rising up in other parts of the
world, and shutting out our articles in consequence of their high prices — why is it, I
ask, that at a time like this a hill is passed to shut out foreign corn, which is sent in
exchange for our raanufactures ? They acknowledge tbat the people are starviiigin
different parts of the country ; that the people of Ireland are starving by hundreds—
that whole parishes have been down to receive extreme unction, surrounded by the
horrors of starvation ; and yet they pass a bill to keep provisions out of the country,
(Shame, shame.) Aye, and at the same time too that they are shutting the ports
against provisions, they are taking taxes from us to encourage eraigration — to send
the working people out of the country. A thing so monstrous was never before
heard of in this world, and never could have existed, unless there were some inte
rest at work which blinded the makers of the laws to the dictates of common Sense
and humanity. What is the case .' The landowners promise the farmers a high
price for their corn, and they, in return, proraise to give high rents. And for this,
millions of people are to toil, and starve, and die. They kre to have a monopoly of
the very food which the people eat. They tax even the people's bread ; the subsist
ence of tbe people, while they are famishing for it ; and they are doing this for their
own exclusive benefit, and notfor any director contingent good which the people can
derive from it. It is irapossible that such a tax as this could exist for a week, if wehad
a parliament to represent the people.
But there are divers other things which could not exist if this were the case. Thus,
last winter. Sir Jaraes Grabara, by raistake I suppose, called the House of Colti-
mons, " the noblest assembly of freemen in the worid." (Laughter.) In about six
weeks after this, he produced, from one of their own witnesses, a proof, that 113 of
the aristocracy, called privy councillors— omitting many of thera, mind, such as
bishops, and others,— but that 113 of these privy councillors divided among tbem
650,000/. a year, out of the public money— about an eightieth or ninetieth part ofthe
whole taxes. This was only six weeks after he had called thera the noblest assembly
of freemen in the world. But what did the noblest assembly do, when he made
a motion for the names aud sums received } Oh ! they gave hira the return, to
be sure. Not at all ; they refused it. And why did they not give the return ?
Mind, he did not ask for a return of the relations of the 113, and of the sums
received by tbem; if he had done so, I dare sSy the amount would have been
nearer a MILLION thau SIX HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND POUNDS ;
but he only asked from the noblest assebibly the naraes of the 113, and they rejected
his motion. Can any-thing be more flagrant than this ? Not very well ; but 1 *ill
tell you something which may not, perhaps, be new to you, though it is to many
people, and when I ha've told it to people in the country, I assure you they have
stared,— I mean tbe pension of Burke ; and I should like to know whether you can
conceive of a body bf men, speakidg the voice of the people at large, suffering this

11
pension wnich I ara now going to describe to exist. Burke, who had always been in
opposition to the minister Pitt, wrote a pamphlet, urging the nation to go to war
against the republicans of Araerican. (His paraphlet was afterwards well answered by
Paine,) He who, as I have said, was always in opposition, now found favour in the
eyes of Pitt, and shortly afterwards he had two pensions given to him, to the amount
of 2500/. a year. Now, it should be kuown, that he had himself, previously,
brought a bill into pariiament, enacting, that the king should not have the power-
yon see they were for abridging the power of the king— that the king should not have
the power to grant to any one man a pension of raore than 1300/. a year. Well
we shall see how tbey managed the raatter. They adhered to the law. Oh, yes^
they would not suffer his raajesty to violate the law — they do every-thing by law 
but they got the king to grant two pensions on the same day to the same man ;> one
ot 1200/., and the other of 1300/. (Cries of shame.) This was in October, 1795-
and Burke died in 171)9. Oh ! well, then, you'll say, we got rid of the pension very
soon. Not at all. Once a pensioner always a pensioner, dead or alive, in England.
They fell on this scheme ; and if ever such a case occurred before in the world I
think it strange. They granted this pension not only for the life of Burke— mind,
his wife had a pension besides— they granted this pension not only for his life, but
fur three lives after his death. On one of them there were Lord  , the Princess
Amelia, and Lord Cavendish, I believe, at least it was one of the people of the Duke
of Devonshire, on the other there were Lord Grey's brother. Lord Althorpe, and
somebody else. Two of these persons, one on each pension, are still living, and
therefore both the pensions are paid to this day. Thus, for above thirty years, we
have been paying 2500/. a year — 75,000/. to a dead man. And in their accounts the
ministers have the audacity to insert, every year, 2500/. " To the executors of the
Right Honourable Edmund Burke." And as the surviving parties to the pension are
likely to live for many years to come,' it is probable we shall have to pay 20,000/
more: so that we shall have paid nearly 100,000/. to a man for writing a pamphlet
urging us to go to war with America ! (Loud murmurs.) Is there a man to be found
who believes that if the people were put to the vote, they would allow of this ? (No
no.) If the people had the choosing of those laws, they would have wiped off this
pension long ago.
Another little item is this. Suppose — but I will not suppose, I will relate a fact.
Many of you recollect that during the last war we had a Germany army — 1 have good
reason to recollect it — that wc had a German array swaggering about the country,
to protect us against those nasty atheistical Frenchmen who were going to rob us of
our religion — the comforts of our religion — and of our wives aud daughters — by the
bye we do not find these same Frenchmen so ferocious now, nor the women either,
who become acquainted with them. (Laughter.) We had these German armies,
however; their generals taking charge of whole districts — aye, and that in Eng
land, where there is a law that says no foreign soldier shall set his foot here, and
that there shall be no standing array. My blood always boiled at the sight of them,
and upon one occasion it boiled rather too much. (Cheers.) It so happened that
some local militia men at Ealing, not understanding that a knapsack was as good as
a guinea, refused to march without it. Their officers tried them by a court martial,
and sentenced them to be flogged. But like the mice in council and the cat, tbey
were to be flogged, but there was no one to flog them. Some of these German sol
diers were therefore sent fur, who surrounded tbe railitia men, and they were flogged.
The accounts of the proceedings appeared in the newspapers ; I took them, and
descanted on Ihem in no very raeasured terms. I expressed my indignation in a
manner which I thought to become an Englishman. (Applause.) But so thought
not the Government; tbey were, therefore, pleased to bring me to trial, and sen
tenced rae to pass two years in Newgate, iu the society of felons, to pay 1000/. tq the
king, and at the end of the imprisonment to enter into bonds for 5000/. to be of good

12
behaviour for seven years. (Loud disapprobation.) 1 released myself from the so.
ciety of felons, by paying to the governor of Newgate twelve guineas a week for an
apartment, which had to be made up about twenty guineas, by gratuities to turnkey,?,
and other things. So that 1 was compelled to pay twenty guineas a week for 103
weeks, that 1 might not be put into the sarae place as Haswell and otliers, who were
conderaned to die ; and at the end of the time his late majesty was graciously pleased
to receive for his father the 1000/. fine. There is a tail, however, to this story, and
this is the great thing to observe-that when an individual suffers unjustly, as I have
described, the country suffers in him, either at first or at last. We should, there
fore be careful when we see an individual oppressed, who has stood forward in the
cause of the people, not to desert him-I do not say, mind, that I ever was deserted ;
no, the generous support of the public has been my support through all these trou
bles, and kept me up, when otherwise 1 should have beeu down. I am only saying,
generally, that when we see a man borne down by the governraent, we should show
our friendship for hira in some way or another. As I remarked, then, there is a tail
to this story ; it is this. Not only during the war had we to pay these, German troops,
but since the war we have had to send to Germany— to send abroad to the children
and widows of those Germans who have died, to tbe amount of 100,000/. a year. In
short, since the peace, those Gerraans who were brought here to protect us, have
cost us ONE MILLION SEVEN HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS! And un
less we get a reformed parliaraent, our children, and our children's children, will
continue to pay them. (Loud murmurs.) They say the taxes come back again to
the people. " Oh it is of no consequence your paying taxes, they all come back
again in some shape or another." I believe it would be bard to discover how this
money comes back to the people frora Germany. But one word more about these
German dragoons, as to tbe bargain they made with us. Yes, tbey made a bargain,
which was this— that they should not go out of Europe. And yet we had, and still
have to pay them ; and what is still more provoking than the rest, we have to pay to
the widows and children of such as have died. This may not seem so hard— so in
sulting to us — till we contemplate the state of the widows and children of our own
labouring men. When they come to the parish officers, what is their conduct ? I
am making no charge against parisb officers ; I ara only describing the thing as it
notoriously exists. How are they treated .' They are called paupers, and the least
pittance that is possible is doled out to them. But while this is going ou we quietly
permit these widows of Germans to live in luxury, and that on the labour of these
very paupers. Oh! gentlemen, you know well that this would not be tolerated of
the House of Coramons represented the people.
There is one name on the last pension list which was laid before the House of
Commons through the perseverance of Lord Cochrane — une of tbe most honest
men, I believe, that ever sat in that House — there is one name on tbat list tbat de
serves notice. It is that of a Mrs. HERRIES aud her FOUR DAUGHTERS. These
ladies I believe to he the mother and sisters of the RIGHT HONOURABLE MISTER
HERRIES, who is our Master of the Mint ; and you know he is one of our ablest
men. Now I should like to know vvhat right these five women have to be on the
pension list. I should be glad to be informed what title the mother and four sisters
of Mr. Herries have to a share of the labour of the working classes of England ?
What right have they to take something out of every pot of beer, every loaf of
bread, every pound of tea and sugar, and every other ai-ticle we buy .' The father
— 1 know iiothing injurious to his character, mind — the father was, I believe, a
merchant of London ; and he failed in business. But we were not therefore called
upon to keep bim and his family. If that were the case we should have plenty of
people to come for pensions, especially just now. (Laughter.) However, he could
not live for ever. No, he could not ; but then he had a wife and four daughters !
Mrs. and the Misses Herries ! I thought thera five of the prettiest naraes 1 ever
saw in my life. (Renewed laughter.) But this is the provoking thing to rae. I who

13
know these people are kept out of the toil of the working man — the provoking, thing
to rae is, that they call themselves ladies, while they call him a pauper., (Cheers.)
And we are iu the habit of pulling off our hats, aud bowing and curtesying to these
very people who are living on our toil ! Mark the raeasure of justice they deal out
to us. What says the law they have made about assisting relations ? The law for
us is, that if a son be able to maintain a poor father and mother, be is to do it. If a
grandfather be able to maintain a son, or a daughter, or their children, or their
children's children, they are to come to his property before these people will suffer
them to corae to the parish. I do not complain of the principle of this law, for it is
accordant with Scripture, which says, " If a man provide not for those of his own
house, he has denied the faith ; and is worse than an infidel ;" but I ask. Are not
those aristocrats who have raade this law for us, themselves worse than infidels ? Is
nut that man worse than an infidel wbo puts his mother and his sisters on the pauper
hst, while he is himself rolling in wealth ? But this is the way with them all.
Take the pension list — and it is as large as the Bible itself — and you will see lords,
and ladies, and parsons, and squires, till you almost.come down to the bees. Could
this be the case, if we had a parliament to represent the people ? The parliaraent, we
are told, hold the purse-strings of tbe nation. So it seeras ; and they put their hands
into it when they like. They should be the guardians of the public purse, and so
they would be if they were chosen by the people. Then we should not see the things
I have, just described. But these are not the hundred-thousandth part of these
things ; to name them, merely, would take me to next Christmas. (Laughter.)
But by way of illustration, and to show you the monstrousness of the thing, I will
just glance at the half-pay list. A.part of the persons who receive what is called
half-pay — that is, who are on the dead-weight list — the whole of which, even I am
not disposed to get rid of, though 1 think that if it were reduced to the number of
men who have heard a gun fired in hostility, it would not be very heavy — a part of
the persons who receive this half-pay are clerical half-pay-officers. It has been
thought by most persons that the office of the soldier and that ofthe magistrate were
not very congenial to be united in one person — but there is certainly something
worse in a union of the parson and the soldier ; it is almost revolting to think of
the sword of war and the sword of the Spirit being wielded by one individual. How
ever, at the end of the war there were about 2000 spirited young men, I need not
tell you who they were related to, who were all of a sudden seized to become
teachers of God's word. It was surprising, to be sure, that they should all have
beeu taken thus of a sudden at the end of the war. How fortunate it was that they
were not inspired during the continuance of the war ! (Laughter.) But they were
seized as soon as the war was over. We make game of the Catholics because they
believe, among other things, in the continuance of miracles ; but surely if we do not
doubt the sincerity of thes* young men — and that I am not disposed to do — here was
an extraordinary miracle. "There they were, however, all coming before the bishops,
and soleranly declaring, with their hands folded together, that they beUeved
themselves to be called by the Holy Ghost to take upon themselves the cure
of souls, and tbe administration of God's word and sacraments. Very well,
having seen a good deal of the world, both of the male and the female part
uf it, they must have had much experience, aud have been admirably qualified
to spread the gospel in the world. But it so happened that they had a sad hanker
ing after their old profession— not the sword part of it, but the raoney part of it
—this often occurs in the history of the aristocracy— (laughter)— they have always
had a strong penchant fur money. Very well ; all of them got livings in the cburcli ;
some of them three or four. So that there -was oue nice young man holding a vicarage
here, and a rectory there, and a captainship iu the dragoons (renewed laughter).
Now, there was soraething so raonstrous in this thing, that one would hardly believe
it unless it were well known. Its existence many would think a good criterion to
judge of the House of Commons. But the thing was not seen ia its worst state till

14
they struck Sir Robert Wilson from the list. This gentleman you well know is, as
a politician, no favourite of mine ; as the historian of the war in Egypt he is no fa
vourite of mine ; but still, 1 thought it so monstrous, that a brave man, who had
fought for thirty years, and who had perhaps scarcely any other property, should be
struck off the half-pay list, merely because he was said— though that 1 happen to
know to be false— because it was said he did soraething displeasing to certain
parties at the funeral of the late queen ;— I thought this so grossly unjust, I say, tbat
i said something about the affair. Sir Robert Wilson said, " Oh ! but you cannot
thus take away my half-pay : it is the reward of my services— you raust give me a
court-martial." " Oh ! " say they, " you mistake, my dear sir ; you mistake the
principle. The half-pay is not to be considered in the light of a reward fur past ser
vices, but as a retaining (ee for future services." So that there were 2000 parsons
receiving a retaining fee— tithes in one hand, and half-pay in the other--2000 par
sons receiving a retaining fee for the army and navy! Such audacious impudence
and waste of public money were never known. But they do not do it now. " Oh,
then," say they, " we are reformed ! We want no reform now ! There's no occa
sion for a reform in parliament now ; we reform ourselves." Aye, but you shall see
soraething still deeper than this. They were told of this monstrous thing by me pretty
often, but they kept it on for about six years, after having treated Sir Robert Wilson
in the way I have described. At last they thought they must get rid of it— they took
six years to do it, that they might not seem to be bullied or frightened into it— at
the end of six years they made the reform. They said that in future when a man
sent for his half-pay, he should send in a certificate that he was not in holy orders.
Oh, that put an end to it, then ! Not at all. They raade this a law, but they
gave eighteen raonths before it was to come into effect ; and during that time any
man might sell out his half-pay. (This stateraent excited an indescribable sensation
throughout the meeting.) Do you believe that there vvas a single parson who did
not sell out his half-pay ! Certainly not. But could any man believe such a thing
existed without the most indubitable proof? The sore thing witb me is, that these
men should be living on the labour of others, whom they have the infamy to
call paupers.
I trust better times are at hand, and we are bere, among other purposes, to ex
press our acknowledgments to the French for giving us the hope of them. I do not
mean that we should rise on the government as they have done : but they have
shown that a people unarmed, unorganized, but animated by a spontaneoiis love of
freedom and a resolution lo defend tbeir liberties, can defend thera, without any great
men to lead them ; — that, naked as tyrants think them, they are not naked; they have
got the arms which God gave them, and these will give them every-thing else they
want, when they like to stir thera. (Immense cheering.) Tbey have shown that the
people of a town are not what they have been said to be — a flock of sheep witb a dog
at their tail when a soldier appears. The French people have shown tbat this is not
the case. God forbid that ever it should be the case here ; I trust that the goodness
of his majesty's heart vvill prevent that; but the French have shown us what labour
ing men are able to do when they bestir themselves. Their conduct has also read a
lesson to railitary legions, and a good thing fur the worid it is, that mercenaries
like the Swiss cannot succeed against « people resolved to be free. The events of
Paris — the transactions uf the three days— have done more for the liberties of the
world than has been done for ages. After a few reraarks on the revolution in Bel
gium, to which he said the people had been goaded nn by excessive taxation, and
the mortification occasioned by a heavy debt contracted for the very purpose of
making them slaves, Mr. (?obbett concluded by requesting a genileman--a French
raan we believe — to sing the Marselloise Hymn. This was done araidst the most
enthusiastic cheering, and the meeting quietly dispersed.

15

THE MAI^SEILLOISE HYMN.*
The day is come, the day of glory.
Rise, children of our country, rise !
Rise, forthe despot's standard gory.
The despot's standard flaps the skies !
The despot's standard flaps the skies !
And hark ! the hordes — the bloody minions
Of tyrants, bloodier far than they ;
Tbey corae on desolation's pinions.
To raake your sons — ^your friends their prey.
Then away; to the fray, with your bright flags high :
We gq — we go,
And the bloo4 of the foe, shall our furrows dye.
These perjur'd kings — these slaves base-hearted.
Is it for us they forge the chain ?
For us — who into life have started.
Ne'er to know slavery's death again !
Ne'er to know slavery's death again !
For us — the free — the noble-minded.
For us — O, insult— crirae and wrong !
What folly hath their vision blinded ?
For us — the proud — the brave — the strong !
Then away, &c.
They corae to outrage God and nature's.
First, best, and raost sublime decree ;
They — base and mercenary creatures.
To flout the sons of liberty !
To Bout the sons of liberty !
They come — our free-born limbs to fetter ;
To fling in dust our upward thought :
Spirit of freedora ! no ! far better.
Thy sacred lessons were we taught. Then ayvay, &c.
Then tremWe, ye perfidious ! tremble.
Corrupt and servile creatures, fly !
The hosts of liberty assemble ;
Your well-won recompense is nigh !
Your well-won recompense is nigh !
All here are heroes — all are brothers.
And if they faint, and if they fall.
The fertile earth will bring forth others.
Ready to die or conquer — all ! Then away, &c.
Our fathers fought the fight victorious :
Shall we our fathers' names disgrace ?
We follow in their footsteps glorious.
And midst their tombs their virtues trace !
And midst their torabs their virtues trace !
Their farae — their deeds — their memory cherish'd.
The brave are children of the brave ; —
We will avenge them where they perish'd.
And summon freedora from their grave !
Then away, &c.
• This translation by Dr. Bowring, has been made expressly for " Anecdotes ofthe
Second French Revolution," and will be found in No. 9 of that work.

16
Yet Mercy— from her altar speaking.
Will cry— Restrain the avenging blow.
For some there are whose hearts are breaking.
Whose hands the bolt of slavery throw !
Whose hands the bolt of slavery throw !
But for the tyrants — those who seated.
On thrones, the best of men condemn
To scaffolds,— be no raercy meeted, —
For why should mercy smile on thera ?
Then away, &c,
invocation.
O, holy love of country '. speed us.
Our guide — our trust — our guardian be,
O, freedom, cherish'd freedom ! lead us.
And fight fur those who fight for thee !
And fight for those who fight for thee !
Thy voice is heard, thy flag is flying.
Thy day is won — thy foemen see.
While midst the dust in anguish dying.
Our glory and thy victory ! Then away, &c.

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A THIRD
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, and
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING ;
BV WIZ.Z.IAM COBBSTT.
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars' Bridge, on
Thursday, Sept, 9th.

Gentlemen, When I last had the honour of addressing you, I promised that I would
produce this evening that which I thought would be a proper petition for us, the
working classes, to present to the King ; but I have not been able to find time to
do the thing to my own mind: however, I will be prepared with such a petition by
next Monday evening, when I hope again to have the honour to address you here.
(Applause.) I will have it printed on a sheet of paper, and any person who desires
may procure it as he passes in or out, at what it will cost printing, which I should
think will be about one penny. (Cheers.) Tbe subject is ofthe greatest possible im
portance to all. We have been talking about a reform iu parliament for many years ;
we are all pretty well satisfied that tliere is no remedy for the disorders of the coun
try and the sufferings of the people without it ; and it now depends, I verily believe,
on yourselves, whether you shall have iter not. (Immense cheering.) Itis a matterj
therefore, which requires the greatest deliberation ; a thing that ought to be done
well, and with all the consideration that we are able to bestow on the subject.
A stateraent of our grievances — or at least part of them, for God knows that to state
them all would fill a book as large as the Bible — but a statement of the more promi
nent of them ought to be clearly made, and in such a manner as is likely to pro
duce an effect on the mind of his Majesty ; and I have not the smallest doubt of its
being received by the King, and also of its being properly attended to. (Applause.)
Gentlemen, we have another encouragement, 1 am of opinion, to pursue this course,
and it is this ; there is every reason to think that the prime rainister hiraself is in
clined to give us parliaraentary reform. (Immense applause.) I know well enough
that the state of parties is not what we ought iu general to amuse ourselves about ;
but now they are somewhat interesting. There is a general corabination agaiust the
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minister ; divers partieshave combined to turn him out. Gentlemen, it is not likely
that the Duke of Wellington would like to be turned out. (Laughter.) Not, gen-
tlemen, that he cares a fig about the profit of the thing— that must be beneath his
consideration— but it is matter of great importance to him as concerns his fame. If
he were turned out now, especially by a vote of the House of Commons, he must be
sensible that he would sink down, not only in the eyes of his own country, but also
in the eyes of all Europe— for all eyes are upon him. Therefore, it appears that he
will be placed in this predicament— either to give the people parliamentary reform,
or to be driven from his post. (Cheers.) If he corae forward with a proposition for
reform, all of a sudden, as he did for Catholic emancipation, he will do now what he
did theu, and much more effectually ; and he will silence all his opponents at once.
Gentlemen, the Whigs are talking about parliamentary reform ; ihey want reform—
a very indefinite one, certainly,— in fact, they want none, or the least possible ; but
if the Duke come forward, and in the king's speech propose a real reforra, they will
be struck dead, as if they had been shot through the head with a bullet. (Laughter.)
The Duke, on the other hand, will see that he will have the people at his back.
Why, Gentlemen, the Duke has got a head nearly as white as mine ; he cannot have
a great number of years to live ; and it must, therefore, be a matter of concern to
end his days well ; to be sure it must. He cannot want his fame to be tarnished—
iu his last days, tobe beaten by the Whigs, or by any-body else. He bas, plenty of
wealth, and he knows this, that by giving the people parliamentary reform he wotild
not only secure his property for himself, but for his descendants. He would not only
have all the people to protect his immense estates ; but instead of grudging him, or
saying he had too much, they would sa) he had not half enough — for the generosity
of the people always exceeds the benefits they receive. (Applause.)
The times, then, I say, are propitious — most propitious for obtaining reform.
Then, on the other hand, the example of the French people is not very consoling to
the boroughmongers. They have shown that soldiers are nut omniputent — that the
working classes, when they choose to muster, can assert their own rights, and can
succeed iu asserting them. The subject which has drawn us together, gentlemen,
and which has procured for me the great honour of addressing you, that very subject
is a subject of serious contemplation with the boroughmongers. They know that
men are men, in all countries ; they know that the people of England hear of what
is done in France, and they know this also, that there is not a working raan in
England who does not say to, his fellow workman, in the field or the shop, while suf
fering under grinding taxation, "What! shan't we do as well as the French !"
(Immense and long-continued cheering.) " Shall we be afraid .' Shall Englishmen,
at last, be afraid to do that which the French have so well done ?" They are avyare
of this feeling in the minds of Englishmen, gentlemen, depend upon it, and thei-e-
fore they will not be in a temper to offer very great resistance. (Cheers.)
Under these circumstances, tben, it becomes us to petition the king. That is our
constitutional right. We may petition the houses of pariiament and the king. The
bouses of Parliaraent we have petitioned lung enough, God knows ; we will do it
again if you like ; indeed, I think I shall be for plying them again with petitions
when they meet ; but the first and the raost important thing for us is to petition the
king. (Cheers.)
In the mean while, permit me to state some ofthe grievances which we shall re
spectfully and dutifully lay before his Majesty. One thing, above all others, we
ought to observe at this time— all Europe appears to be in commotion. Even Ham
burgh, that little comraercial republic, is in a state of half rebellion. The news
papers say, it is strange there should be riots at Hamburgh. Oh ! it is a servile imi
tation of the French, says a correspondent of the Morning Herald. The people at
Hamburgh have nothing to complain of— they are so happy— so well oft— they have
such a nice little commercial republic. Upon these occasions, however, I always
inquire what is tbe raatter ; what have the people done these things for? " Oh, for
nothing," say they. Well, but surely there is some reason for doing them. " No,
none at all." Well, but what reason do they say they have ? " Oh, none— no,
they have no reason ; they have done it all for nothing." Well, but surely they say
they have some reason ; what do they say is the reason for their rioting ? Come,
what do they say is the reason ? "Oh, the reasons they give are all false • they are
very well off; they have no reason in tho worid." Well, but let us bear what they
do say, whether it be false or true. (Laughter.) Why, theu, after three or four days

it come out, that all the working people had to complain of was this.—A little while
ago, some pretty heavy taxes were taken off from imported goods ; that is, the great
merchants were relieved frora some heavy taxes ; but at the same time, these were
transferred to the working people, and a tax was put upon the bread, and the meat,
and even an excise upon the milk. We ought not to be surprised, therefore, that
Hamburgh is in a state of revolt. Belgium complains of oppressive taxes. Some of
the Belgium states of Prussia — even at dear Hanover — the common people, doubtless
without any cause, cry out, " Down with the nobility !" Why, gentlemen, the Duke
of Wellington knows, if the boroughmongers do not ; the Duke of Wellington knows
something about the nations of Europe ; he knows the people of most of them ; he
knows what kind of persons they are ; he knows that the people of England are in a
Bomewhat similar condition ; that the poor man has to pay a tax of fourpence-half-
penny upon every sixpenny-worth of beer he purchases ; and therefore he must per
ceive that something MUST be done. (Cheers.) This, as I said before, I believe to
be one of the reasons why the Duke will propose, in the speech from the throne,
that there should be a real and effectual reform in the parliament. I may be rais
taken ; if 1 am I shall be very sorry. Now, before 1 proceed to an enumeration of
some of the grievances which we shall lay before the king, I shall make one obser
vation. Whenever we propose that any thing should be effected for the benefit of
the people — 'to repeal any laws— to remove any oppressions ; — in fact, whenever we
complain of any thing, they cry out — " Oh, that 's an innovation," and the raan who
asks for it is accused of being an innovator. " Oh, you are an innovator," they
say; " you are given to change; you are an innovator." Now, gentlemen, I want
a change, it is true, but I am no innovator — I am against inriovatioBk I complain of
no grievance that is not of raodern date ; it is of innovations that I complain, and of
nothing else ; — because they have not adhered to the ancient laws of the country. I
will raention four or five instances, by way of speciraens ; and I here say, that the
reign of George IV. has been marked with greater innovations — greater alterations in
the laws affecting the common people, than in all the reigns that have occurred since
the passing of Magna Charta. This is a bold assertion, but it has been formed after
tbe_ raost deliberate} consideration and examination, and I state it here in the most
deliberate manner. I will mention a few of these. ...
In the year 1818, two bills — ¦very little things we think these bills, generally,— in
the year 1818 two bills were brought into the House of Commons, and passed into
laws, whioh totally changed the situation ofthe labouring people. These bills at
tracted very little notice in London ; we are here too thickly put together in one
place, and too much engaged in getting money for the tax-gatherer, to pay attention
even to those things which most materially affect us. Two bills, however, which, in
the year I have named, passed into Jaws, have totally changed the situation of thp
labouring people. These bills wese introduced and carried through the House of
Commons by Mr. Storges Bourne, and they made the most material alteration iu
the poor-laws. Gentlemen, I had the honour to state to you the other night, thatthe
poor-laws originated in consequence of the property originally appropriated to their
support having been taken av/ay from the people. The poor-laws did, however, in
some measure, supply the place of these ; more degradingly, not so honourably, not
so much in the spirit of Christian charity; but still the poor-laws of the 43d year of
the reign of Elizabeth, did, if faithfully adhered to, in some measure supply the place
of the original estates. These laws said this ; That no person in England should
suffer from want of food, clothing, or shelter, whatever may have been his previous
character, or whatever the causes which had produced his poverty. Now, these laws
continued from the latter end of the reign of Elizabeth, with some trifling alterations,
till tbe year 1818. In this year, the two bills of which I have spoken were brough^in
and passed. And what was their effect ? I beg your attention to the alteration now
made in the condition of tbe working classes. The first bill enacted, that in future,
in the meetings of vestries, not every parishioner should have a vote — not, as it had
been previously, tbat every rate-payer should have a vote, and no more; but in
addition to this, that for every fifty pounds that a parishioner paid as a rental, ha
should have another vote. So that some had ten votes, and others but one. Now;
you see how this law was made in favour of the rich, and to the disadvantage of the
poor; how it took away t'ne power of that class of persons who were the nearest to
the poor, and therefore had the greater sympathy with thera. The poor laws ori
ginally provided, that ther* should be a conimon feeling between some of

4
the rate-payers and those who needed relief; for some of those who paid
and had the power to grant relief, were very near to those who required it.
And so it should be. But this bill took away all that sympathy ; it set aside all the
small rate-payers; the rich necessarily overpowered them, and became lords of the
vestry : they then became, gentleraen, what the House of Comraons has so long
been. The decided majority of the vestry were rich, and all know that they have
less feeling for the poor than those nearer to them. But it did not stop there. Not
satisfied with what he had here affected, Sturges Bourne brought in another bill,
which, in fact, was to take the power out of the hands of the magistrates and over
seers, and transfer it to the select vestries. The mode of relief was this, — If a man
needed relief, he was to go to the overseer (who was elected by the vestry) ; if
the overseer refused him relief, he went to the nearest magistrate, who gave an
order for relief, and the overseer was obliged to comply. The protection to the poor
man, then, was nearly as complete as it could have been. But this was all done
away with by the select vestry bill, about which I am speaking. The select vestry
was to decide as to the applications for relief, and the overseer was not to relieve —
unless a man were just going to die — without the sanction of the select vestry, that
is, a vestry chosen by persons voting as I have before described, the rich having the
sole voice, because their votes necessarily constituted the majority. The magistrate
was forbidden to order relief, and the overseer was not permitted to give relief, ex
cept with the permission of the select vestry. (Cries of sharae, sharae.) Thus are
the poor stripped of the great protection afforded by the sympathies of those who are
nol far reraoved from them in their circurastances, and who know not how soon they
may be placed in exactly the same situation.
Now, though the effects of these bills are not so much seen in London— we have
tbo many ribands and fine clothes here to see them — though the effects of these bills
are not so much seen in London, they have totally changed the situation of the
people, and such suffering has taken place in consequence, that the like has beeu
seen in uo country in the world, unhappy Ireland only excepted. Now, we should
complain of these laws as innovations ; they are new things, and we should try to
get rid of them. (Applause.)
The next thing I will mention, is au innovation in the game laws. In the first
place, it is a very odd thing to say to a man. You shall not meddle with a wild ani
mal ; if they were to extend this law to sparrows, and blackbirds, and ;linnets, we
should see its strangeness at once ; but there are only three things,' partridges,
pheasants, and hares, and these no man may touch, unless he possess freehold pro
perty to the amount of 1001. a year, or copyhold, or sorae other descriptions of pro
perty, araounting tol 50?. These laws, as BlackstOKe said, are against the natural rights
of mankind ; because all wild animals remain in a state of nature, and can be claimed
by no man. They are no man's property; they are given by God to all men ; and
how is it possible for a hare or a pheasant, who is here to-day, and twenty railes off
to-morrow, to be called the property of this man or that .' How can any man pre
tend to have a property in a thing like this ? Blackstone hiraself has reraarked upon
the unreasonableness and absurdity ofthe thing— but tbe game laws were made for
the rich. (Cheers.) They were severe enough iu the time of Blackstone, the punish
ment was great enough then, for unqualified persons killing game, or having it in
their possession. But what have they made it now ? What has it been made during
the reign of George IV.— the reign of innovations ? The utmost penalty before, was
this. That if a man were seen in pursuit of game, or with game in his possession,
there was a penalty of five pounds to pay, which might be taken by a distress on
his goods. That was the utmost punishment they could Inflict. But what have they
done since? Why, now they have dont this; and judge you of the heart-burnings
thatmust exist in every village in consequence : you hear of fights between poachers
and game-keepers, but they soon pass from your minds, and you know not how the
country jails are crammed full of poachers and felons, whom the game laws have
made such. The law now is :— tbat if a man be in the pursuit of game, or out
in the night, as if he were in the pursuit of game, that is, arraed with a club
or a gun, or any other instrument calculated to kill ganie, he is liable to be
taken by force— it is not done as it was before, by information— no ; a raan raay
be taken by force, be taken before u. magistrate, be 'committed to prison, be tried at
the quarter sessions j— and for this, act, being out at night in quest of a hare, a phca-

sant, or a partridge,r-these justices, who are themselves the game preservers,,mind,'
have the power of transporting a raan for seven years. (Loud murmurs.) Now,
this is an innovation, if they tall< of innovations. But perhaps, as provoking a part
of the thing as any is this : A little while ago, a Mr. Gooch was asked. How many
poachers were in prison in Suffolk ? His answer was, only about forty-three or
forty-four. No wonder. Gentlemen, that the jails are too sraall to hold the prisoners.
Think of forty-three or forty-four raen in one jail, taken away from their families,
their labour suspended, they keptin idleness, and all this for the preservation of game
for the rich men. And who maintains them while there ? All of us. So here we
have this pretty law : we dare not have a hare or a pheasant in our possession-—
even to have game in one's possession, unless qualified — is a crime for which one is
punishable by fine, or imprisonment, or both — and yet we are called upon to pay for
the prosecution of men, to preserve this game. Whoever heard of a thing so unjust
as this .' We are compelled to pay for all this, because they have been in pursuit of
game, and yet we are criminal if we lay our hands on it, even if it be given to us I
A man who should find a dead hare lying on the road side, would, if he were to take
it up, be liable to a penalty of five pounds ! So that we are taxed, in this instance
at least, for the sake of punishing ourselves. They first say,' " If you touch either
of these animals, you shall be punished ; but you shall pay, however, for the pre
servation of that game to us." Gentlemen, if you could know the extent of the
grievance of this law, in the heart-burnings and ill-will it occasions in the country,
you would not wonder vvhen you hear of riots, and confiicts between poachers and
game-keepers. But you may imagine something of it. Men in the country have
naturally a taste for game : they have a right to it, and they feel this ; they know
how unjust these new laws are, and therefore they are set against them, and have
such grudging that it is not be described. Now, gentlemen, we would pray his
majesty to restore this law to at least the state in which it was before his late brother
ascended the throne. (Cheers.)
Another new law, gentlemen, brought in by that softener of the laws — Mr. Peel —
for they call what he has done, an amelioration of the crirainal code ; — but it isa very
strange thing that wiile they have softened it by repealing some acts for the burning
of witches and wizards — for this they certainly have done; Sir James Mackintosh,
you know, has been a great mover in the concern — they should have passed others
much more severe in their practical effects on the working man. However, Mr.
Peel, the great ameliorator of the criminal code, brought in a bill, which passed
into a law, making it felony for any man to take an apple from a tree. That law is
now iu force, and all the consequences of felony will fall upon a raan's head who
gets over a hedge^-no matter whether he break a lock or not — and plucks an apple
from a tree. (Murmurs.) I would say, that if it be necessary to pass such a law as
this in any country, oue of two things must be, either they must be the most com
plete set of tyrants in the world, or the people the wretchedest thieves that ever
lived. The consequences of felony are, the forfeiture of a man's estates, all rights he
possessed, every-thing, in fact, but the mere protection of his life from destruction
These are the consequences of felony, unless a man receive a pardon ; and I insist
that it is monstrous to talk of having softened the criminal code while an act exists
to visit a man with such a punishment for taking an apple from a tree. (Applause.)
I do not know that tbe law has ever been carried into effect raore than once, and
that was by a parson in Dorsetshire. But this makes no difference, the act is in
force, and raay be carried into effect at any time.
Another law brought in by Peel — here are the innovations ! — is what is called
the new Trespass law. This is most important, as it characterises the reign
of George IV. They talk of the mildness of his^reign; of mild and gene
rous character of his majesty; aud Peel said we were too near the period of
the beneficent occurrences wich marked it to be able to estimate in their full
force all; the benefits we have derived from them! Gentlemen, I ara not im
puting to the king any ferocity df disposition — for it is very possible that he
knew nothing about what was_doing, but still we must look at these things to
estimate his "mild and beneficent government." Well, then, let us look at this
new trespass law. The law of trespass was this. If a man went on another man's
land, or property of any description, he might bring an action against him, but if he
did not get a verdict for 40s. each party had to pay their own co,5ts. The conse-

quence of this salutary law was, that no man was likely to harass another with a
vexatious suit. But the law went farther than this. The original law was made m'jre
severe when the Whigs came to reign. Yes, it has been the Whigs who have made
all the bard laws. As soon as the Whigs came into power, a law was passed to
enable the Judge to certify that it was a malicious trespass of which the defendant
had been guilty. That consisted in this. If a man came frequently into my garden
or field, after having been cautioned against it, then the Judge was required to cer
tify, and he had to pay the whole costs. Certainly this might be a very provoking
kind of a trespass, a man might say, "Oh, yes, I'll not do you forty shillings worth
of harm, but I'll annoy you pretty well; I'll come pretty often into your grounds,
and do you frequent petty mischiefs." And no man should be permitted to do this
with impunity. But the operation of this law was most partial : it was very well for
the rich, but very oppressive for the poor. But what have they done now .' Mr. Peel,
the ameliorator of tbe criminal code, brought in a bill, which has become a law, and
is now in force, that if a man be seen trespassing ou the land of another — though he
has had no warning;— for instance, if you were going across a field having a path in
it, in a dark night, and were accidentally to get out of the path — this law authorizes
either the proprietor of the field himself, or any deputy for hira, to go out and seize
the man on the spot — not to bring an action at law — but to seize the man at once-
or if he cannot seize him, to get a warrant for bis apprehension — a warrant, mind
ye — to get a warrant for his apprehension, and to take hira before a magistrate, who
is authorised to assess what damages he pleases under 51. ; and if the man charged
with the trespass cannot pay them on the nail, be may be sent off to gaol and to hard
labour. Well, but this is not all ; for if a trespass be to the amount of more than
51, — and, gentlemen, it is not likely to be to a greater amount than 51. unless done
with dogs and horses — then the justice ofthe peace is to take no notice of it; then
he is to leave the sufferer to his action at law against the rich raan. Oh, yes, the
rich man is not to be seized by the poor man, and taken before the justice ; oh, no.
But this is not all, for any mau who has a game certificate, and is qualified to kill
game, is not to be prosecuted at all ; he is not to have his horses, or his dogs, or his
followers seized, on any account. So that a rich man raay corae into my barley-^
field, trample down the grain, and do me immense mischief; yet I dare not take
hold of his horse's bridle to stop hira, or in any other way interrupt hira ; but I may
bring my action at law. Why, gentlemen, the rich man has plenty of money, the
poor man has none, and therefore he cannot bring his action at law. (Murmurs, and
cries of shame.) Is not this one law for the rich, and another for the poor ? Thus
are all things. They tell us we have nothing to complain of; we shall muster up
something, however, in our petition to the king, I warrant ye. (Cheers.) We shall
make out that we have just grounds of complaint ; that we are not factious people
but that we understand we have grievances, and know how to represent them. And
yet, gentleraen, we will complain of nothing but innovations. (Cheers.)
Another thing exists, the effects of which have lately been illustrated in Oxford
shire. Gentlemen, there can be neither nature, nor reason, nor did the law of the
land ever contemplate that there should not be an inch of land on which the poor
man should set his foot, or have a cow, or a pig, or a goose.. But accordino- to their
construction of the law, the commons, or waste lands, as they call them, belono- to
certain lords of manors and other proprietors. Whenever they can agree therefore
they go to that famous thing that does all the fine deeds (laughter),— the House of
Coinmons, and begin with a law to authorize them to enclose the commons • that is
to take away the last blade of grass from those who live on the skirts of the common'
I know, that in strictness of law, they may take it— and I know, too, ifthey corae to
strictness of law, that there are many things which might be taken from themselves—
I know that in strictness of law they may lake the commons from tbe poor people
but according to the usages of the country— and our ancestors always included usages'
in their estimate of public and private rights— they can do no such thing. (Cheers 1
Well, from one end of England to the other, they have been at work for forty years
enclosing the commons, and thus stripping the labouring poor of the last inch of
ground on which they could feed a cow or a pig, or keep a bee. Nothing has dune
more mis(*ief m England than this ; notliing has more altered the state of the la
bouring people. I know oue common on which a thousand famihes had settled • in
1827 a bill was passed in the Coramons to enclose it, but a nuraber of petitions
among which was one frora rayself, went up to the lords, praying them to stop it

and the lords did stop it, and saved that part of the country from the cruel intentions
of these rich men. (Applause.) Gentlemen, this is not the only instance in which
the lords have prevented the intolerable oppressions consented to by the House of
Commons. Howeyer,^a case has recently occurred in Oxfordshire that may not be
without its use. A coramon, studded round with cottages, had been enclosed round
by the rich men to whora it was said to belong. The people felt its injustice and re
sisted. They pulled down the banks, and 27 of them were tried at the last assizes,
and acquitted, perhaps from some flaw in the indictment; however that may be,
their acquittal was recommended by the Judge, perhaps from motives of humanity,
in a great measure; however they were acquitted, and returned to their homes.
They were not likely, you'll fancy, to let the enclosure go on after this. They soou
had the whole ofthe enclosure down, and a battle took place, which ended in bring
ing in the soldiers. Lord Churchill, with his troop of cavalry, took 60 of the people
prisoners, which they were conveying in two waggons in grand cavalcade to the
jail at Oxford. Very well, it unluckily happened that in their way they had
to cross a kind of Bartholomew fair; the people assembled were soou alive to
the thing, and attacked the soldiers. I dare say they thought of what had taken
place in France ; I dare say they said, " What ! can't we do as well as these
Frenchmen.'" At any rate to work they went; their hands were tilled with
bricks and stones, and these flew so thickly at and against the beads of the
cavalry, that a sort of running fight was kept up till the cavalcade reached Oxford.
In a little tirae after they had got into the streets of the town the soldiers gave
way, and the prisoners were released. (Immense applause.) The soldiers were
pursued by the people in every direction ; but the coraraanders having had
the prudence not to order them to fire upon the people, they were permitted to
escape. It is said, that had a single shot been fired, eyery soldier had been killed,
(renewed cheers.) Now, it may be easily shown that meu do not do these thi ngs for.
nothing ; they do not do them without feeling a great deal beforehand. They do not
thus act from caprice or wantonness ; it could not be from either of these that they
exposed themselves to the soldiers ; no, but they felt that to enclose the common
was to rob them, the poor, of the means of subsistence, and was monstrously unjust;
they therefore acted as they did. (Applause.) It is true, this enclosure work has
been going on for forty years, butithas not slackened during the " mild and benefi
cent reign of George IV." Gentleraen, this jiractice is a monstrous violation of every
principle of justice ; and we ought not to feel the less on account,of it, because we
do not live in the couutry and immediately feel its effects. Our happiness depends
on the comfort and happiness of the country people ; they produce articles of food
for us, as we do of other descriptions for tbem. We have a comraon interest, and
it is very foolish for any man to say he does not care for what is taking place in the
country.; it is participated in throughout the kingdom. (Applause.)
The altered state of the labourers in this country is not unknown by any means
to the parliament ; and judge you what sympathy they have with tbem, how acutely
they feel for the people, when they suffer such a state of things to continue. In 1821,
daring the reign, the " mild and beneficent reign of George IV." (laughter) a com
mittee was appointed by the House of Coramons, to inquire into the causes of the
agricultural distress ; that raeans, the causes why the landholders do not get their
rents (laughter) ; and also into the causes of the vast increase in the poor-rates.
The committee met. Well, " how comes this vast increase in the poor-rates .'" they
inquire. " Oh, it is quite raonstrous ! " Why, the people are poorer than they
used tb be, was the answer. " Well, but what is the cause of that ? Why do they
make them paupers ? " Nobody told them it was the taxes. However, a Mr.
Ellman, a very respectable farmer in Sussex, was called as a witness, and was asked
what was the state of the poor in his parish. " Very badly off, indeed," was his
answer. "How many are there on the poor-rates?" They were rather angry with
the mau for saying they were very badly off. This Mr. Ellraan, who was a sensible
man, gave thera this illustration, in a very sensible manner : " Forty-five years ago,
when I began farming, there was not a m,an in the parish who did not brew his own
beer, and enjoy it at his own fire-side ; now there is not one in the whole parish who
does so." The committee did not stop to inquire whether this arose from the malt-
tax orthe hop-tax ; or whether it arose from a deficiency of wages, which stripped the
labourer of his little utensils, oue by one ; oh no ; this was of no consequence tij the
committee. Well, by and by they had a witness from Wiltshire— the high sheriff of

the comity— they a&ked bim, "Well, how are the people off? " " Very badly ;'their
common food is potatoes ; they have scarcely any-thing else to eat ; neither meat nor
bread." They then asked him how they lived formeriy ! About forty years ago, he
said, they had plenty of meat, bread, and beer. " What do they drink now ? " was
asked by sorae one on the committee, " Water." Somebody, however, remarked,
that when a ploughman went out into the field, be must take something with him to
eat besides potatoes. "No, they have only cold potatoes in the field"! Here is a
state of things ! These facts are notorious, and they are as disgraceful as they are
notorious; and they should awaken indignation in the breast of every man, par
ticularly if he have a belly-full of victuals. However, the committee made a report
to the house ; to that report they subjoined, of course, the evidence, and among the
rest that to which I have referred. And what did the House do ? What did they do?
Why, to be sure they went to work to inquire into the causes ofthis change in the
condition of the'working people. To be sure they did ! I'll be bound that they fasted
themselves till they found out the reason why the people fasted, or, were living upou
potatoes. I'll be bound they never quenched their thirst till they found out why the
people did not now brew their beer. Not at all! They did nothing at all! If there
had been one man in that bouse worthy of being called a representative of the people
— if there had been only one such raan in the house ; with this evidence before hiin,
would he not have made a motion that the house never should separate till they had
inquired into the causes of this suffering ? You are quite satisfied of this, (cheers)
gentleraen, there has not been one word said about it from that day to this. (Loud
cries of shame, shame.) Can anything characterise the house more than this? If
it were chosen by the people at large ; if they felt themselves to be the representa
tives of the whole of the people, would they have acted in this manner ? (No, no.)
No, gentlemen, they did not inquire into the causes of the privations and sufferings
ofthe working people — but they immediately set abqut inquiring how it caine to
pass that corn was so cheap, and how they could raake it dearer ! (It is impossible
to describe tbe effect this statement produced on the audience with which the theatre
was crammed.) Yes, gentlemen, they proceeded to inquire how they could ensure
the agriculturists a higher price for corn ; that is, how they could ensure themselves
higher rents. Gentlemen, the evidence of Ellman, and ufthe high sheriff of Wilt
shire ; will be something on which we can state facts ; it is evidence delivered to
themselves, and printed by theraselves ; we have helped to pay for printing it, and
why should we not raake use of it ?
In the year 1828 — still in the mild and beneficent reign of George IV., another
committee was sitting to inquire into that part ofthe poor-laws relating to the em
ployment of able-bodied persons from the pour-rates — not into the causes of the suf
ferings of the people, but into the increase ofthe poor-rates — this being in fact the
thing— for they said, " If they continue to increase as they have hitherto done, all the
land in the kingdom will be eaten up — it will pay no rents." Well, among other wit
nesses that came before the committee was a Mr. Boyce, a great farmer of Walder-
share, in the county uf Kent. He told them that the poor were very badly off, for
though he gave his people higher wages thau any-body else in the parish, even they
were very badly oif. He further stated that he had seen thirty or forty young meu
in the prime of life, and who ought to have been at work in the fields, degraded in
their own estimation as well as in the estimation of beholders, booked on to carts
and wheelbarrows, dragging stones, because they could not get other employment!
(Shame, shame.) The chairman of the committee, lawyer Slaney, said " But why
do you not employ them in the fields? Is there too great a population ?" "No;
there is not too many men," said Mr. Boyce, " for we could employ more than the
whole of them if we had the means to pay them." And why not the means ? Be
cause, gentlemen, the taxes take away su much, as not to leave them the means,
(Cheers.) In all manner of ways you can imagine, this Mr. lawyer Slaney tried to
carry Mr. Boyce round, and catch him some how or another. They cross-questioned
bim like they do a witness at the Old Bailey. They did not like his answers, and
they wanted to get nd of them. " Mr. Boyce," they said, " you have leave to
amend your evidence, if you will." "No," said Mr. Boyce, '• 1 do not wantto amend
ray evidence." Over and over again he said, " We cannot employ the raen, because
we have nut the means to pay them." That is, the taxes take away so large a part
ofthe produce of our labour, that we have not sufficient left to procure the culliva-
tiou of the land.

9
Theuext person they brought before the coniinittee, was an overseer'of the parish
of Minster, in the Isle of Sheppy, in Kent, and this gentleman stated that the con
victs on board the bulks, who are brought on shore to work in the parish of Minster,
are better fed and clothed than the labouring men of the parish. In the course of
his examination he stated that he had heard many ofthe poor men in the parish .say,
that if they could do it without disgrace to their families, they would commit some
crime, in order to procure themselves to be sent on board the hulks, as convicts.
(Murmurs.) " Ah I" said the committee, " these must be very wicked, reprobate
men." "No," he replied, "they are not wicked, but industrious, well-behaved
men ; but they say, ' It is hard that our condition should be much worse than that of
the convicts on board the hulks ;' and for the mere satisfying of their hunger, they
wished to be among them." This evidence is printed in the report, but the report
said not a word about Minster and the bulks. What is the evidence printed for, if
not for the members to read ? For what do we pay 20,000^ a year for reports, if they
do not|read them ? And if they do read them, what are we to think, when there was
not one man among them to say, " For God's sake let us have an inquiry into the
matter." No, gentlemen, the only thing they wanted to inquire about, was the
increase iu the poor-rates.
Upon the same occasion, a farmer from Pelham, in Hertfordshire, who gave his
evidence, mentioned something upon which Mr. lawyer Slaney wanted to establish
the belief, that the distress of the labouring people arose from premature marriages.
Why, gentlemen, what a pretty race we should soon become, if none but old people
married! (Laughter.) Mr. Slaney examined this farmer in a smock frock.
Slaney — "Farmer, at what age do your labourers marry?" Farmer — "Not very
early, Zur ; they marry when they get about eighteen or nineteen." Oh, no wonder
there is such a state of misery, then ; no wonder at the weight of the poor-rates. By
the bye, I believe this Slaney has eight or nine children himself — I dare say he wants
some rates, or relief. (Laughter.) However, Slaney proceeded — " But why do you
suffer them to marry so early?" "Why, Zur, we be glad to get 'em to marry."
(¦Renewed laughter.) Gentiemen, I am not giving you a ludicrous description of the
thin", but the very words ofthe parties. — " Glad to get them to raarry ! Why, man,
what do you mean ?" Farmer. — Why, Zur, if not, who's to feyther the child ?"^
(Much laughter.) Gentlemen, we may not be able to restrain our laughter at the
narration ofthis, but 1 assure you it is a very serious affair. " Father the child !"
said Slaney, who, I dare say, is a very raoral man, " Father the child ! why you do
not mean to say that the young women are with child before they are married ?" —
"Ez — always." "Eh? what always?" "Ez; always." (Great laughter.)
By and by there carae before the committee a parson frora Little Horwood, in
Buckinghamshire. They asked him if this was the case there ? "Yes." Oh, what
monstrous immorality ! However, the farmer explained to them what ought to have
produced an impression on them, and what would have produced an impression on
any other body of men ; — they asked him the cause of this state of things. " Why
d'ye see, this is merely a manoeuvre to make the parish pay the expenses of the
wedding," Now, gentlemen, mark the progress of taxation and oppression. Forty
or fifty years ago, circumstances like these would have been deenied a disgrace
among these very people. The girl would have been pointed at, marked with dis
grace, and not readily forgiven by her parents ; now it is all cast away, and the
reason the farmer gives is, that they are too poor to pay the expenses of the wedding.
They therefore mauoeuvre to make the parish pay them. These expenses cannot be
paid without the select vestry ; but the young woman being in this state, something
must be done, and therefore they lay huldof the man, and make him marry her— but
the parish is obliged lo pay the expenses. Such, Gentlemen, ia one speciraen of the
progress of taxation ; such one specimen of the progress of morality, during " the
mild and beneficent reign of George IV."
But to show the extreme humanity of those landlords— the makers of the laws—
and iheir extreme impartiality, mark oue particular tax— I shall have many others
to mention whe^n I come more particulariy to detail our grievances. You all knovy.
Gentlemen, that if a tradesman be ccmpelled to sell his goods— bis shop goods, his
household goods, or any-thing else— there is an auction duty to be paid out of the pro
ceeds of the sale. But there is another class of persons who are exempt from this tax.

IU
I am one of these lucky mortals. 1 shall in a short time have a sale of my farming
stock ; but I shall have no duty to pay. But why should not my horses, my pigs, and
cows, and ploughs, and other things on the farm, pay a duty, as well as the goods in
a tradesman's shop? Why, gentlemen, there is no duty payable on farming stock
or timber sold standing on the land— and this is the vVay in which it is always Sold,
there is no duty on underwood, nor, in fact, on any-thing belonging to the land. Now,
mark the partiality and injustice of this law. Why is it that this description of proi.
perty is exempt frora the duty ?— Because the landlord would have ultiraately to pay
it. For instance : if I had been subject to pay the auction duty on the sale of ray
stock, I should have calculated this when 1 took ray farra, and should havegiven less
rent. But they passed a law to say, " When our property is sold, there shall be nd
auction duty ; but when the produce of the poor man's labour is sold, it shall pay a
duty, to go partly into our pockets, and be divided among us." Such is the character
of this law, and you will find, if you examine, that while the law is every way framed
to favour the rich, it is equally designed to oppress the poor. Was ever any-thing
more shameful than what we behold every day of our lives ? A lord, in coming
through a turnpike with a horse worth 100/. or more, and a chaise behind it worth
another lOOi., pays just the sarae and no raore, than a fellow with a jackass cart.
Why, gentlemen, they could make a distinction in the case of the auction duty;
why not inthis? No; because the distinction would do justice to the poor man, and
that is what they can never do. (Cheers.)
The other great thing I shall raention, and which touches every-body, is the Corn
Bill. What is the state of the country, as they describe it ? Why, there are too many
people; that is, they have not the raeans of subsistence, and therefore they come on
the poor-rates; and yet they are afraid of too much food coming into the country !
They have a project before them to mortgage the poor-rates to send the people out of
the country for want of food, and at the same time they pass a law to prevent food
coming in ! At once, there are too raany mouths, and, too much food. (Laughter.)
But this is the coraplaint of all coraplaints, because it reaches the manufacturers, aud
prevents them competing with foreigners. I say that nothing but the superior skill
and industry of the English manufacturers would enable them to maintain any
part of the foreign trade. And this arises chiefly from the corn laws, which are de
signed to put high rents into the pockets of the landlords. They say to the farmer,
" Oh, you could not carry on your concerns without these laws ; you must have ^
protecting price." Gentleraen, it is not the farmer they protect ; it is theraselves;
and the law is to give them a monopoly of the sale of corn and bread. That is what
it is ; and though the exciseman does not come into the shop to impose a tax on the
loaf, they do the same thing in a rauch better manner for theraselves. And this tax
is made for themselves only, aud purely, and against the rest of the communily.
Every man of us is taxed in his bread, in order that the riches may go into the pockets
of the owners of the land. Is not this a subject of coraplaint ? Is not this an innovation ?
The law passed first in 1815, and I believe I was the only person who petitioued
parliament against it. I was then a farmer, but I saw so clearly that it would give np
relief to the farmers, that I sent up a petition to the House of Lords, in which 1
affirmed, that it was against the whole community, for the benefit of the aristo
cracy. And, gentlemen, it is a law against which every man should set his face,
and on which he should make his voice heard. By these means, and various others,
to what a condition have they brought the working classes ! The Scripture says,
" He who will not work, shall not eat ;" but they have studied how they can act in
opposition to the precepts of the Gospel. If they had said, " Whereas it is right
and expedient that those who work should not eat, and they who do not work should
have all the victuals," they could not have acted differently to what they have done.
And this cross purpose is running through the whole of their doings. It is the sarae
in the church as every-where else. Those who perform the duty receive none ofthe
pay ; one big, fat rector has three or four rich livings, and "one bishop 40,000/.
a year, while there is a parcel of starving curates. So it is in every-thing;
they take from those who labour, and give to those who do nut. (Cheers.) Yes,
and they continue to take more and more from the former, and give more and more
to the latter.
But the miserable state into which they have brought us, what does it present ?
Gentleraen, we ought to be ashamed of the present state of things, unless we are

11
resolved td get rid of it. (Cheers.) We ought to be ashamed to talk of liberty, of
constitutional law ; to own ourselves to be the sons of those men who made those
laws which are now so abused ; we ought to blush deeply when we think on these
things, and above all we ought to be ashamed to talk about them, unless wc are fully
resolved to effect a change. If this be not our determination, we ought to blush to
call ourselves Englishmen. (Cheers.) What do we behold ! Within my recollec
tion, throughout the country, the people were well fed, well clothed, and well
housed; England was famed throughout the world for a well-clad, decent, moral
and honest people. What is our state now ? Why, in innumerable instances, and
for many years during " the mild and beneficent reign of George IV.," in various
parts of England, people have been drawing wagons, chained or harnessed together'
like beasts of burden. In Nottinghamshire I raet twenty men harnessed in this
way, and in Sussex, in Hertfordshire, and in Hampshire, it has been common. Gen
tlemen, we ought to blush to speak about such things, unless we call upon the
people to make au effort to get rid of them. They talk about the hardships of negro
slaves, why, it is enough to fill us with indignation to bear them whine over the
sorrows of a fat and greasy negro in Jamaica — by the way, they moan over his
fate while they are sipping the sugar and the coffee produced by his labour — but it
fills us with indignation to see their sympathies called forth in behalf of the well-fed
negroes, while their own countrymen are found iu such a condition under their very
eyes. (Applause.) Oh, yes, while talking about the poor dear negroes they can
look out of window, and say, " Oh, it's only some raen drawing a wagon." Gen
tlemen, it IS very curious that last winter the lords were all at once struck with the
impropriety of this state of things. The Duke of Richmond called their lordships'
attention to the circumstance of men drawing loaded wagons, about which he talked
very jiathetically, and insisted that it ought not to continue. Why, Gentleraen, the
Duke of Richmond might have learned the fact from me sixteen years ago. But
can you wonder that the poor people are vindictive ? When they come to the select
vestry, they say to them, " Oh, yes, we'll give you relief; yes, you shall draw loaded
wagons, like horses, and have a driver ; you shall do that or starve." This I say,
has been the case for many years — I believe they will not attempt it again. (Cheers.)
But the Duke of Richraond discovered it. How ? Why, in the part of the country in
which his Grace was residing, they had met with some determined resistance on the
part of the poor raen, who were conderaned thus to labour. They said to the over
seers, " We will have relief." They said, " Then you must draw wagons ;" but the
men replied, " We will not." Tbe Duke of Richmond had heard of this in
his own neighbourhood, aud when he found that the poor men would not draw
wagons, he discovered that to draw thera was a very cruel thing, a very de
grading thing, and ought not to be. People frequently blame the poor man for
resorting to violence ; " Oh," say they, " he ouly makes his case still worse." But
we know by experience that he does not make it worse. Now and then one falls a
victira, but he does good for the rest. Gentleraen, in this case, I believe they will
not dare to do the same again. Araongst other things that England could formerly
boast of, was implicit obedience to her laws ; the people were cowed at the sight of
a constable ; but when laws are what they ought not to be, then, and only then, are
they resisted. (Cheers.)
But this drawing of wagons is not the raost provoking und humiliating part of the
inflictions on the people in the country ; though we know little of thera. In many
parts, when a man who has a wife and family becomes chargeable ;on the parish,
they will take good care that he shall not increase it. They shut his wife up in the
poorhouse, and place the man somewhere else ; and never suffer them even to speak to
each other but in the presence of the master of the workhouse. This alone would
afford a criterion for judging of the degradation of the country. Can you blame
such a man for resorting to violence ? Is it not in nature ? Let any man consider
if he were to happen to fall into misfortune, and should thus be separated from his
wife ; not be able even to speak to her in private, — not permitted to speak to her but
in tbe presence of the master of the workhouse ; and all this without his having
committed any crime. Yet, gentlemen, this is the state of England, and we ought
not to disguise it frora ourselves. We who know how extensively it exists, should
communicate it to others, and they should talk of it wherever they come, and re
solve to make use of all means in their power to alter such a state of things.

12
Another thing the labourers have to suffer— and they may try this again,* but if
they do, I ara sure it will lead to a convulsion in the country— but another thing is
what they have the impudence to tell us cannot be done. They say , " Oh they cannot
sell you like they do negroes ; you may not be quite so well fed, to be sure ; but then,
you are free-born Englishmen, and they cannot sellyou like they do the negroes." Now,
gentlemen, the fact is, that Englishraen can lie bought and sold, and are bought anil
sold, from one end of the country to the other. It as common in various parts ofthe
country, to sell the labouring men for the week and the month, as it is to sell a
sheep or a pig, or any other description of article. In Norfolk, last winter, (see
what it leads to !) it was the practice to bring the poor men every month into the
church porch, and in that very place, erected for the purposes of charity, for if you
look into the foundation, you will find that it was erected for God and the poor— that
is the grant always — in the very church porch, then, the poor were brought once a
month, and sold by the haramer to the highest bidder. (Shame, shame.) At least,
in oue parish the consequences were these : the farraers who were the most active
in sanctioning this monstrous proceeding, found, upon getting up in the morning,
the spokes of all their wheels sawed through, the beams of tbeir ploughs quietly cut
across the shafts of their carts severed — so that nothing could be done in the morn
ing. Wheelwrights and others were wanted to repair the damage done, and thus
labour was created. (Cheers.) All this while the poor men were laughing, to be
sure ; such things cannot go on for ever. They have been going on during the tea
last years ofthe " raild and beneficent reign of George IV.," but be you assuretl that
they will not go on for five years more (applause), under the really mild reign of
William IV. (Renewed applause.) Gentleraen, how could they go further than this?
How could they exceed the selling of men's carcases ? — for, as I said last week, itis
not the blood and bones of the negroes that they sell ; it is their labour ; and it is
the same that they sell the whites for. So that it seems impossible to go farther
than this ; it seems impossible that they should be able, by any ingenuity, to find
out how to inflict a greater degradation than this. But, gentlemen, it is possible,
for, as far as the House of Commons is concerned, they have gone farther than this,
for they actually passed a bill to sell our dead bodies. (Shame, sharae, monstrous.)
Gentlemen, though at the time I was greatly enraged at this raonstrous attempt,!
do alraost wish they had passed the bill in the Lords, for then there raust have been
au end to the thing altogether ; for though in LoncJon, where poor creatures find
their way and die, without any one knowing thera, the sale uf a dead body raight
uot attract much notice, it is not so in the country. There every raan is known to
his neighbours ; and rest you assured, that had they attempted the thing, there
would not have been a gentleman's house unburnt. The very first man's body that
had been sold in any county in England, the sellers, and buyers, and all in any way
connected with the transaction, immedialely or reraotely, would have been destroyed
by the people. I petitioned the Lords against this bill after it had passed the Com
mons, and it is curious to know the secret history of the petition. I sent it to the
bishop of the diocese in which I have the honour to reside, he being, as I conceived,
the most proper person to present it. Well, the bishop received it on Thursday
morning, and as I begged his lordship to present it as early as possible, he
sent me word he would present it on the following day. However, on the
next day, Friday, he sent his servant to say, that when he promised me he
would present the bill on that day, he forgot that he had business in the
city, and therefore ifl were in a hurry to have the petition presented, he suggested
that I had better place it in the hands of sume une else. My answer to his lordship
was, that I would by no means take it out of bis hands; that he was the proper
person to present it, and I should therefore repeat my request tbat he would present
it as eariy as possible. Gentleraen, a bishop was the most fit and proper person to
take charge of my petition, for 1 had in ii; called upou tbe bishops in particular, to
say whether, if they sanctioned the taking of men's bodies, and delivering them over
to the surgeons, they must not sanction the dispensing with the burial service, and
if they dispensed with that, whether they might not be called upon to dispense with
all the rest of the service ? The bishop took the petition then, and when he returned
from the city he laid it on the house. There it lay, and was looked at by several, as
if it were a scare-bird. They said, "That's a very ugly thing," (laughter,) audit
seemed to give them a good deal of uneasiness. However, the thing was soon after
taken up, and got rid of. I am inclined, however, to do homage to the sincerity of
Lord Harewood on the occasion. He questioned the right of pariiament to pass such

13;
a law ; " For," said he, " if we can sell the dead bodies of the people, what is to
prevent us frora selling their living bodies ? " (Cheers.) Gentlemen, the Lords
threw out the flill, but the passing of it in the House of Commons shows what that
assembly is made of. There it passed without any division ; almost unanimously ;
and one lime it was read with only sixteen or seventeen merabers in the house. Oh,
to be sure, it was nothing to sell the dead bodies of the poor. Gentlemen, would any
mau among you sanction the seUing of the dead body of a poor man, even though
the price it fetched were applied to the support of other poor people? (Cries of.
No, no.) Or the selling of it all? (No, no.) And, gentlemen, let us not, because we
may not now be in that situation ourselves, let us not imagine that the poor, who
were the objects of this bill, have not their feelings, as well as we have. (Cheers.)
Think of the feelings of the father of a family, or any other man, knowing that he
was going to die, and contemplating at the same time that his body was to be taken,
aud chopped up, and his body thus to be put upon a level with that of the murderer ;
for they did not dare, as the Lord Chief Justice told thera, they did not dare to
remove that stigraa from the character of a murderer, or there would have been no
difference made between him and another man. 1 say then, that to pass this bill, was
to pass a law that every poor man, who died ou the parisb books, should'be punished
after death as a murderer. But they tell us it was necessary for the purposes of
science.* Science ! Why, who is science for ? Not for poor people. Then if it
be necessary for the purposes of science, let them have the bodies of the rich, for whose
benefit science is cultivated. (Cheers.) Or, gentleraen, let them take the placemen
and pensioners, if they must have subjects, as they call them, for the benefit of science.
(Laughter.) What so reasonable, as to have the bodies of men who have been subsisting
the public expense, and done nothing in exchange for their sustenance ? If these
men would give up their bodies there would be some little reason in pensions. (Re
newed laughter.) They might then say, " Why, true, we have done you no service
while we have been li-ving, but you shall Iiave our carcases when we are dead."
(Great laughter.) On the contrary, those wbo had laboured, and who, very likely,
had been brought to death's door by excessive latbour, the bodies of these men were
to be taken, and that for the benefit of those who had brought them into this con
dition. They had another argument. " Why," tbey said, " if we don't do this— if
we don't sell the dead bodies of the poor, they will be taken out of the graves, and
sold by other people. There will be smuggling ; there will be an illicit and contra
band trade. If we don't establish a regular trade in dead bodies, we shall have a
contraband one. They will have them!" So then those men who could paas a law
for authorising the bank to refuse to pay its creditors — who could pass a law to shut
up Englishmen in prison whenever ministers pleased, and keep them in prison as
long as they pleased, and let them out when they pleased, without ever bringing
them to trial, or letting them know the nature of their offence — those men who made
these laws could not make a law to prevent men stealing dead bodies. (Cheers.)
What ! our omnipotent parliament could not do this ? A parliament which could
pass laws like these had not skill enough to pass a law to prevent men taking dead
bodies from the tomb ! They who passed a law to protect the bodies of pheasants,
hares, and partridges — wild animals, which are here one hour and twenty railes off the
next— could not they pass a law to prevent fellows violating the sacredness of the grave !
I say there was nothing more easy than to pass such a law ; to make it felony to have
possession of a dead body without it had been delivered by a due course of law. Gen
tlemen, areformed parliament would have a due feeling for the whole people, poor as
well as rich. They talk about the sacredness of the tomb. Yes, it is the TOMB
they mean— those they bury in the church or the vault; but those who are laid in
the ground can have no law passed to prevent their being taken up.
Gentlemen, these are a few of the grievances of which we have to complain, as
having emanated from our law-makers during "the raild and beneficent reign of
George the Fourth." There are others innumerable, but I fear I have this evening
exhausted your patience. (Loud and general cries of "No, no; go on, go on.")
Gentlemen, on Monday evening I shaU, as I said before, bring before you such a pe
tition as I think we should present to his Majesty. Perhaps we raay be able to devise
some method of taking the signatures of those present at the time, and thus (get it
into a forward state. (Loud cheers.) After stating that he should himself be happy
at least to make one of a deputation to present the petition to the King, Mr. Cobbett
at down amidst the most enthusiastic applause.

14

EXTRACT FROM THE POLITICAL REGISTER
Of Saturday, September Wth.
N.B. " Reports of these Lectures are published by Mr. STRANGE, No. 21, Pater
noster Row, price 2d. each. — Mr. STRANGE is also publishing, in weekly numbers,
a history of the revolution in France, price 2d., for the working people. And why
should they not have a cheap publication weekly? The SIX ACTS of Castlereagh
and Sidmouth forbid ihis ; but let us hope that they are becorae obsolete. If, how
ever, Mr. Strange should become the victira of this law, it will be the duty of the
WORKING PEOPLE, throughout tbe whole country, to support him to the utmostof
their power, in a legal way; for it is, for them that he is running the risk. This is
the time for petitions to king and pai liament both, for the repeal of this law, which
is a law to keep the working people in ignorance relative to all public arid political mat
ters. They cannot afford to give sixpence for a weekly publication on politics ; and
the law forbids them to have one for less than sixpence. Petitions from the WORK
ING PEOPLE on this subject ought to be prepared directly, and signed by millions,
I will draw up what I deera a proper petition for this purpose, and submit it to niy
audience at the Rotunda."

»»* Mr. Cobbett's First Lecture, price Two-pence— and his Second Lecture, price
Three-pence, may be had of all booksellers. ,
t+t The friends of liberty are requested (for obvious reasons) to aid the circuUlim
of these cheap publications, by introducing them wherever opportunity offers.

15
TO THE TRICOLOUR.
(by t. roscoe, esq.)
Down, down with your colours, ye slaves !
Ye despots ! bow low tbe proud knee
To the standard of freedom, that royally waves
With the sovereign people's decree.
Proclaira it aloud, till it rings
Through the regions of earth to the sky.
That victory's freeraen bave raade theraselves kings.
And claimed their divine right frora high.
Joy, joy to thee, land of the brave I
To the gallant and fearless in soul.
Who dared to tell Europe, leagued fast slave with slave.
And her despots in steel-clad control.
That the spirit of Gaul was not dead —
That the last drop of blood in her veins
For her young rights of freedom should gladly be shed,
TiU her children were washed frora their stains —
The pollution of ages of crime.
Of scorn, and oppression, and wrong,
Frora those libels of monarchs whose names through all tirae.
With our Stuarts, to shame shall belong.
We honour thee, land of the Gaul ! —
The beacon of Fig'bt in the storra —
The last glorious bulwark of patriots, when all
Had perished, or cringed like the worm.
Then up with your proud Tricolour,
The emblem of hope to the world ;
Let it wave from each mast-head, each palace and tower —
To the ends of the earth be unfurled.
Let it blanch the bot blood of the priest,
Of the lordling, the minion, the brood
Of old tyrants whose vultures are trained to the feast.
Whose talons drank deep of your blood.
The day-star of Europe hath risen !
Young Freedom's creation's begun ;
At her word, out q( Anarchy, Slavery and Treason,
Spring, Light, Peace, and Order, whose sun
O'er a new eartii and heaven hath beamed —
The homes and the hearts of the free ;
'Tis a glory — a triumph we dare not have drearaed,
And we owe it, brave Paris, to thee.
What honours, what wreaths of renown.
To the heroes of Liberty due !
Crown, crown, on the thrones of earth's despots hurl'd down
Our Citizen Kings who are true.
Let us honour your brows with the palra
Of victories won with your voice ;
Your example shall teachman to dare yet be calm.
Your victory — man to rejoice.
These, these are the thanks we decree
To the saviours of Freedom and France !
Not the thanks vowed by courts to new despots o'er thee.
When our Mettemich statesmen advance :
Then up with our brave Tricolour,
The emblem of hope to the world :
Let it wave on each mast-head, each palace aud tower.
To the ends of the earth be unfurled ! — Athe nanon.

16
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Embracing Details ofthe Leading Occurrences in Paris ; with Biographical Sketches
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" I am not going to give you a history, or narrative, of the recent transactions in
France, you will find that done in a little work published in London, at Strange's
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" This little work possesses the rare merit of containing more than its title-page
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witli special reference to the people of England, and the lessons to thera which are
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"The work will forra a most valuable addition to the poor man's library."— Co-
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" This is, without excepti on, the neatest, most elegant, and one of the best-written
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Printed by Mills, Jowett, and Mills, Bolt-court, Fleet-street.

A FOURTH
LECTURE

ON THE

FRENCH REVOLUTION, and
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BV WII.3:.IA]V[ COBBETT.
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge, on
Monday, Sept. ISth.

Gentlemen, It has been the unfortunate habit of my life always to have my wishes extend
beyoud my powers of execution. I intended to have had the petition which I thought
would be proper for you to adopt, printed off, and ready for delivery at the door ; but
I have not been able to accomplish that entirely. On second thought, however, it
seeras to me to be more proper that you should first read it, or hear it read, aud
then give it your approbation. Otherwise it would have appeared to be mine en
tirely, without receiving any-body's approbation. (Applause.) The petition I have
had set up in type, but it is, of course, subject to any alterations which raay be
thought proper after it is read. Before, however, I read this petition— before I come
to the proper business of the evening, 1 must do justice to those whora I have wronged.
Gentlemen, it is too much to presume that any-body would come to hear my lucu
brations a second tirae ; but if there should happen to be any persons here who were
present ou Thursday last, I beg to say that I then did an act of injustice to the aris
tocracy. (Laughter.) 1 then said that they had done nothing towards ameliorating —
towards softening the laws; that they had been raaking them more severe toward
thepoor, especially during the mild and beneficent reign of George IV. I said, that
the only instance in which I knew them to have mitigated tlie severity of the laws
was in repealing sorae acts against witches and wizards ; and that, as far as I knew,
they had softened the law iu no other respect. Gentlemen, I did the aristocracy an
injustice. They have softened the laws in three, four, or five other respects ; aye,
and that during the raild and merciful reign of Geo. IV. Gentlemen, I will state to
you in what respects they have thus softened the laws, leaving you to guess at their
motives, if they do not sufficiently appear in their acts.
The first instance in which they have ameliorated the laws, was in abolishing the
use of the pillory as applicable to certain crimes. The pillory, to be sure, was not a
very severe thing ; but if a bishop— his name might be .Jocelin or any-thing else— if
a bishop happened to commit a crime which would place him in the pillory, he would
be there in the hands of the people, who would thus take the work out of the hands
{Strange, Paternoster-row, — Price Three-pence,]

of the common executioner, and inflict upon the bishop what punishment they
pleased. Now it did so happen that there was a bishop ofthat sort, a bishop com
mitting a crime which I wo'nt describe ; and his ears having been thus exposed to
the pillory, the use ofthe pillory, as applicable to such crimes, was abolished by our
merciful aristocracy. (Laughter and cheers.)
Another instance in which they have softened the law is this. 'Fhe law of Eng
land, from the earliest tiraes, always punished felo de se — that is, persons killing
themselves — with the greatest severity the law could inflict on a person already dead ;
that is to say, his body was sentenced to be buried in tbe cross-roads, and a stake
was driven through it. That had continued the law for a thousand years, and it would
be very easy to show that it was not unattended with good ; to show how that terrible
judgraent raust have deterred men from such crimes ! It was, I say, a salutary and
excellent law ; however, it was severe, and our merciful aristocracy repealed it.
And when? After Castlereagh had cut his throat. (Loud cheers and laughter.)
Gentlemen, it was all very well for a poor man who might hang himself; a very good
law for those poor fellows who hung themselves in hay-lofts, or those raaidens who
dangled from a willow, but it was very serious indeed when Lords began to cut their
throats, and was then high time to abolish it. (Cheers.) It would have been difii
cult, to be sure, to pass a law that should say, " Whereas such a law exists at pre
sent, and whereas it is unseemly and inexpedient that a lord should hav'e a stake
driven through his body, be it enacted, that in future this punishment shall be dis
pensed with whenever a Lord cuts his throat.'' (Laughter.) This would have beei\
a little too glaring, and therefore the thing was altogether abolished by our merciful
aristocracy. Another thing, which is less likely to excite any acrimonious feelings, less likely
to call into notice any unpleasing contrasts, is this. The law of England, from the
reign of George II.— indeed, it had been tbe common law always — declared that all
players of profane interludes and plays— that is all actors and actresses — were va
grants, and as such they stood in the Vagrant act. Well, this did not hurt them much
to be sure ; it did not break their bones ; there however they stood for many years.
But when several lords had married actresses, when play-actors had become peer
esses, and particularly when one of them had become a duchess, then it was high
time to take them out of the Vagrant act (laughter) ; and a. new Vagrant act was
in fact raade by our last merciful parliaraent, by which players ceased to be vagrants.
There is one other alteration. " Yes," some one may say, " Have they not raade
Catholic emancipation ? Have they not repealed a whole batch of penal laws at once
here ?" Yes, they have done this, but at what a price have the people purchased it !
It was all very well to remove the penalties frora Catholic peers and gentleraen ; but
what did the people give them as a corapensation ? The people of Ireland. The
forty-shilling freeholders. (The agreeraent was this : We will give you Catholic
emancipation for the benefit of the aristocracy, but we will take the right of voting
from the poor people of Ireland.
Gentlemen, having now done that justice to the aristocracy which the case de
manded (laughter), I will proceed to the proper business of this meeting, which was
to take your opinion upon, and agree to, a petition to the King about parliamentary
reform. (Great applause.) I shall, I am afraid, be thought very tedious in this pe
tition, but I beg you to reflect that we have made enough of short and loose state
ments. General statements, indefinite coraplaints, produce, in such cases as these,
little effect. We want, therefore, a statement, plain and strong ; a statement of the
prominent grievances of the nation, proceeding from a want of reform, I first pro.

pose that we should state to his raajesty, in a respectful and dutifulwanner, what
are our motives for addressing him ; what calls us to give him the trouble of receiv
ing our petitious. In the next place, that we should express our confidence in him,
knowing his power to assist and relieve us. Then to state to him the nature and
amount of a great nuraber of particular cases in which we are aggrieved. I say a
great number of these cases, because unless we point them out particularly— if we
petition in general terms ; if we say, for instance, that we are oppressed ; that we
have not our right.;, that they have been fraudulently taken away by degrees ; that
we are not represented in parliament, and in consequence are steeped in great suf
fering and misery ; if we state our grievances thus generally, we shall find there are
men to contradict it : men to say, " It is all false, you are very well off." But,
gentlemen, that cannot be the case when you corae to particular facts. The party
must then contradict these particular facts, for unless he do that, all the abuse he
can pour upon you is not worth one straw. (Applause.) Now, a petition of the sort
I am speaking of, must be somewhat long ; it raust comprise a great deal, and have
a considerable quantity of words. 1 have made it as short as I could, and much
longer it must have been to describe a thousandth part of the suffering arising from
the acts of the aristocracy, and inflicted upon the middle and working classes of the
people. I have here put together such a nuraber of grievances, such a nuraber of
abuses, such a number of hardships suffered by the people, as may, I think and be
lieve, awaken his majesty's desire to exercise his powers to effect our relief. (Great
applause.) 1 will, with your permission, first read the petition, requesting the
goodness of your silence while I ara so doing. Mr. Cobbett then read the following
petition, making, as he proceeded, the observations enclosed in brackets.

TO THE KING'S MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY.

THE PETITION of the undersigned Persons, belonging to tlie
Industrious Classes of London and its Vicinity, dated this
15th day of September, 1830,
Most humbly showeth.
That we approach your Majesty, not as blind adorers of royalty, but as faithful
and dutiful subjects, whose fidelity and duty are founded in our conviction, that, in
highly honouring and cheerfully obeying your Majesty, in upholding, with all our
might, your just prerogatives, and evincing our most profound respect for your per
son, we best consult our own welfare, knowing that you are endowed with those
prerogatives for the common good of us all, and not for your own exclusive ad
vantage. That feeling ourselves thus bound to your Majesty, not by harsh constraint, but
by a willing obedience, arising from a due estimate of our own interest and honour,
regarding your person as sacred, not from servility of mind, but because you are the
fountain of justice and of mercy ; taught by the laws of our country that kings were
made for the people aud not tbe people for kings, regarding your kingly powers as
given to you for the purpose of preserving the peace, the rights, and the happiness
of the people, and more especially for the defence and protection of the weak against
the strong, of the poor against the unjust encroachments of the rich, of the fruits

of Industry against the wiles and the violence of aristocratical ambition, arrogance,
and rapacity ; animated by all these considerations, and beholding in your Majesty's
most gracious conduct and demeanour an indubitable proof of your anxious desire
to promote our good by redress of our grievances, we, with the confidence with
which suffering children appeal to a tender father, lay those grievances before your
Majesty. That we complain, may it please your Majesty, not ofthe form of that Government
which has endured for so many ages, and under which our fathers were so free,
lived in such ease and abundance, and saw their country so great and so much
honoured throughout the world; we complain not of the nature of the institutions
of our country, which have stood the test of centuries ; we complain not of any-thing
an attack on which would argue a hankering after innovation, but, on the contrary,
it is of innovations, innovations endless in number, cruelly oppressive, and studi
ously insulting, that we have now to make coraplaint to your Majesty.
That we complain, generally, that the whole of thelaws past within the last forty
years, and especially within the last twenty years, — [Suffer me to observe, that you
will find in the enumeration of these oppressions, nothing of ancient standing; they
are all innovations of which we complain. The constant charge agaiust us is, that
we are innovators, that we want change. Now, it is against innovations that we
complain, it is of things new that we complain ; and the far greater part of them
has taken place during "the raild and merciful reign of George IV.' That is veryma-
terial for us to bear in mind. I could easily have gone back to things of fifty or sixty
years' standing — to the Septennial Act, and other things — but I was determined to keep
within the liraits of forty years, or thereabouts;] — that the whole of the laws passed
within the last forty years, and especially within the last twenty years, present one
unbroken series of endeavours to enrich and augment the power of the aristocracy,
and to impoverish and depress the middle and labouring part of the people; [This
is the thing for us to keep in view. In all countries where an aristocracy has been
suffered to exist, unchecked, tbey have at last impoverished, and degraded, and en
slaved the people.]— to irapoverish and depress the middle and labouring part of the
people ; and tbat to give your Majesty a speciraen of the wrongs and indignities
heaped upon us, we specifically complain that the trial by jury, held so sacred by
our fathers and provided for by Magna Charta, as so necessary to the protection of
the people, has, in a great measure, been taken from ua, leaving us to be fined
imprisoned, corporally punished, and in some cases transported, without a trial by
jury, and at the sole discretion of magistrates, appointed by and dismissable at the
pleasure of your Majesty's Ministers :— [Gentleraen, here are, perhaps, twenty dis
tinct allegations, distinct assertions, 1 cannot now stop to prove the truth of every
one of them, though I should much hke to do so, and to explain how we are oppressed
and this 1 hope to have the pleasure of doing on Thursday, and perhaps on some
future evenings. (Applause.) But I can merely state thera now, pledging rayself
that there is not one of those propositions which I cannot prove by evidence before a
court of justice. That is very essential in this case— it is essential in all cases that
the TRUTH should be .spoken, but it is especially so when we are addressing the king
in this solemn manner, aud putting forth what may be deemed the manifesto of the
working people of England.]— We complain that within the last forty years the
most grievous taxes have been laid upon us for the benefit of the aristocracy, to
heap riches on tbem in the shape of pensions, sinecures, and places, and that as a
specimen, 113 of tbem are, iu one case, now receiving out of the taxes 650 OOOZ a
yeart we complain that the two families of Grenville and Dundas have, during the

last forty years, received more money in sinecures alone, than it bas cost during the
same time, to maintain tbe whole of the civil government of the United States ot
America, which, under tbat cheap government, bave arrived at population and
power to rival those of England herself: we complain, that while the laws and
usages of our country hold standing armies in abhorrence, and while they are
wholly unnecessary to our country, especially in time of peace, we are now taxed
at the end of sixteen years of peace, to maintain a standing army that costs more
yearly than the army that was raaintained during the Araerican war, when we had
war also with France, Spain, and Holland ; — [Is not this monstrous ? We required
ouly half as rauch in taxes tn maintain the army and navy, and all the business of
Government, when we were at war with all these powers; half as much as we pay
ilia time of profound peace, and at the end of sixteen years frora its coraraenceraent.
When is it to end then ?]— and this too while we have, besides the yeomanry, a
militia of sixty thousand, always ready to be called out. We complain, that at the
end of sixteen years of peace we are taxed to maintain a navy which costs
five millions a year, while the navy cost only seven raillions a year when
we were carrying on war against America, France, Spain, and Holland : we
complain that in this peace, which was to give us inderanity for the past
and security for the future, we are loaded with taxes twice as heavy as those
which were required during the war against all those powers : we coraplain that
the emoluments arising from the.se establishments are engrossed, for the far
greater part, by the aristocracy and their dependents, for whose sole benefit they
appear to exist to this enorraous extent, a conclusion fully warranted when we see
that we have three generals for every regiment of soldiers, two admirals for every ship
ofthe line tbat we have, taking both services together, one coraraissioned officer to
every five private raen, and especially when vve look at the families and connexions
from which all the olficers come : wc coraplain that, in the navy, the bulwark of our
country, proraotion and power are so bestowed, that sons of the aristocracy, who
were children at the end of the war, have the command of ships, and have under
them masters and lieutenants, who were fighting at sea before these coraraanders
were born ; — [Gentlemen, this is an evil in which, of all others, the people ought to
interfere immediately. If we were to have a war— and who knows how soon we
may ! — if we were to have a just war wiih America — and such a thing is possible —
who does not so love his country as not to wish her success ? But who is to fight in
that war? This aristocracy, with officers and men under them who were at sea
before they were born ? Is there justice in that ? Is it not a cut at us all ? (Cheers.)
Are we ready to lie down and say, " We will shed our blood ; and you shall have
all the honour that arises from it? " Gentlemen, are we base enough for that ?
(Loud cheers, and cries of, No, no.) That, however, is what they are trying to
bring us to :] we complain that, in pursuance of this system of aggrandising the
aristocracy at the expense, and to the depressing ofthe raiddle and working classes,
military and naval and ordnance academies have been established, for the rearing
of officers for the army and navy, and that in these the children of the aristocracy and
of their dependents are nursed, fed, clad, and taught at the pubhc expense, so that the
middle and working classes are compelled to pay for the nursing and feeding and
teaching of the children of the aristocracy, and that, too, for the manifest purpose of
excluding for ever hereafter their own children and kindred from all chance, aud even
all possibility, of possessing military or naval command : we complain ofthe establish
ment of military asylums — [Of all the important things — but we shall go on this way
for ever. Every-thing we come to seems worse than the last. (Laughter.) I can

6
remember the time when I thought every fresh face I saw was the prettiest I ever
saw before ; so, as we go on, we come to something which we think is still worse than
before :]— We coraplain of the establishment of military asylums— [This is as pretty
a thing touching the working people as ever 1 heard of. I will be bound that not a
tenth part of the persons present know of the existence of such things even to this
day.] We complain of the establishment of military asylums for rearing up the
children of soldiers in ease and comfort at the public expense, the children of working-
men being, under like circurastances, treated as paupers, while their fathers arc com
pelled to pay taxes to support these asyluras : we complain, that, in accordance with
this system of establishing a permanent military force, while the pay of the private
soldier bas been so augmented as to make it, over and above his clothing and
lodging and fuel, greater than the average wages of the hard-working man, tho
soldier, like the aristocracy, is excused from paying postage ou his letters, while the
hard-working and half-starved raan, who is taxed to raaintaiu that well-fed and well-
clad soldier, is not so excused : we complain, that we bave been taxed to give half-
pay, in the army and navy, to a large part of the clergy oPltbe established church,
who, for twelve years, were receiving tithes, Easter-offerings, and other dues, as
rectors and vicars, and at the same time receiving military or naval half-pay, and
who, at the end of that tirae, were allowed to sell, or transfer, this half-pay, still
leaving it a charge upon this burdened and and suffering people : we complain, that
within the last thirty years, l,6O0,0O0i. have been paid out of the taxes for, as was
alleged, " the relief ofthe poor clergy of the church of England," — [Yes, we have
paid one raillion six hundred thousand pounds, which raakes part of the national
debt, and raark the purpose for which it has been paid] — while the bishops of that
church have revenues from ten to forty thousand pounds a year, while the deans and
chapters have wealth enormous, while there are numbers ofthe aristocratical clergy
who have two, three, or more benefices each, and while, to cite an instance, the Earl
of Guilford has, at this time, the great living of St. Mary, Southarapton, including
the adjoining parish of South Stonehara, the livings of Old Alresford, of New
Alresford, and of Medstead, a. Prebend at Winchester, and the Mastership of St.
Cross : — [This man, who is a peer of the realm, and one of our law-makers, swallows
up this immense quantity of church property, while we are taxed to relieve the poor
clergy, who do the work ;] — we complain, that the revenues of the church are thus
distributed, that there are " poor clergy" iu this rich aud luxurious church, but we
more especially coraplain that we are taxed for the relief of those who are made
poor by this scandalous grasping of the church-revenues by the aristocracy : we
complain, not only ofthe weight of the taxes arising from the afore-mentioned
causes, but of their partial iraposition, falling as they do, like feathers on the aris
tocracy, and like lead on the; middle and working class: we coraplain — [Mark
this, gentlemen,] — wc coraplain, that the taxes on raalt, sugar, tea, spirits— [Here
are'the things used by the people, by the millions : yes, these things are used
by those who labour, whose farailies are to be supported by their industry;
these things are used by such persons, and therefore one of them, any one of
them, pays more in taxes than all the land-tax of the kingdom]  we complain,
that the taxes ou the malt, the sugar, the tea, or the spirits, araount on either
of these articles, to more than the tax on all the lands in the kingdom : we
complain, that while foreign wine pays a duty of fifty per cent, on its value,
foreign spirits pay four hundred per cent, we complain, that while the goods,
which are the result of our labour or skill, pay a heavy auction-tax, the
timber, underwood, and other produce of land, sold on the land, pay no such tax :

yre complain, that, ofthe more than two millions a year, raised by the tax on letters
received by the post, the aristocracy pay not one farthing: — [We know we have
to pay, and we know what it amounts to. I know what mine amounts to, with
all the precautions I take, quite enough to maintain two labouring men and their
families ; while the aristocracy contribute not a farthing towards this tvvo raillions of
money.] — We coraplain (leaving out a hundred other instances), that in the ease of
probates of wills and administrations, uo tax at all is paid by the land, while a heavy
tax is imposed on personal property, and thus, while the middle class has to sustain
this cruel tax, not a farthing of it falls upou the owners of the land : we coraplain,
that, as if all these were not enough, a Corn Bill has been passed, and has been iu
force for fifteen years, giving the aristocracy a monopoly of that necessary of life,
shutting out food while it was asserted by those who raade the law, that there were
too many mouths, compelling manufacturers to buy their bread dear and to sell their
goods aud labour cheap, aud sacrificing all tbe rest uf the comraunity to the greedi
ness of theowuers of the land : we coraplain, that the game-laws, always unjust iu
principle, always at war with the rights of nature and the dictates of reason, have,
within the last fifteen years, become tenfold more cruel thau formerly ; for that to
pecuniary penalties, or short imprisonment, for an infraction of those laws, are now
added long iraprisonraent, corporal punishraent, and transportation beyond the seas
for seven years ; and these too at the sule discretion of the justices of the peace,
appointed by and disraissable at the pleasure of the Ministers of the day : we com
plain, that the new law of trespass has empowered the justices to imprison poor men,
and to cause thera to be corporally punished without any trial, while the great tres
passer is left under the protection of the ancient law : we complain, that the working
people having been, by the weight of the taxes on the necessaries of life, reduced to
a state of pauperism, laws were next made to prevent them frora obtaining parochial
relief as heretofore : — [This is one of thegreatest grievances of all. We that are
here never, perhaps, felt the necessity .of applying to an overseer for relief : but be
you assured of this, gentleraen, that this is one of the great grievances of the couu
try, and oue which, if not speedily redressed, raust lead to the raost alarraing conse
quences ;]— we complain, tbat, within these twelve years, two acts have passed, one
to throw all the power of vestries into the hands of the landholders, and another to
enable those landholders to set at defiance even the power of the magistrates to
cause relief to be given: we complain, that, in consequence of these taxes, this
monopoly in corn, and the severities on the working people, of which we have here
given merely a speciraen, the working people of England, once the best-fed, best-
clad, and most raoral in the worid, bave become the most miserable and degraded to
be found on the fare of tbe earth, those of unhappy Ireland only excepted : we com
plain, that the landowners compel them to draw carts and wagons like beasts of
burden, that they keep men forcibly frora their wives for a purpose too gross to
mention, that others forbid them to raarry upon pain of being left to beg or starve,
and tbat others sell them by the week or mouth by public auction :— [These are
lamentable truths, shameful truths ; it is a shame that such things should exist. I
do not say, that we should be ashamed to look one another in the face, while we
suffer them, for without combinatiou-until the tirae comes— we have no power
to resist. But if any one raan in England says these things ought to exist, that
mau ought to perish that instant he utters the word.]— We complain that the House
of Coraraons, though fully apprised of all this suffering, though they have, in evi-
dence given before their committees, proof upon proof of the wretchedness of the
people, though they have in evidence, that the honest working man is fed worse than

the convicted felons in the jails and the hulks, though it has been proved to them
that the working people commit crimes for the express purpose of getting at the
better fare in the prisons, though they have been fully informed upon all these
points, though they raust be acquainted with the notorious facts, thatthe working
people have, in many instances, resorted to the food of hogs and dogs, and have in
many others been actually starved to death, they have adopted no raeasure for their
relief, but raeasures innuraerable for their punishment, closing, at last, with a bill to
authorise the keepers of poor-houses and hospitals to sell their dead bodies for dissec
tion, and thus, in this signal respect, putting the honest, worn-out, or unfortunate
man upon a level witb the murderer.
That to our gracious and just and raerciful King we complain, as ofthe real cause
of all these oppressions and sufferings, that we are not represented in that which is
called, and ought to be, the Commons' oi people's House of Parliament ; we com
plain, that though it had been stated to that house in 1793, without an attempt
at contradiction, that one hundred and fifty-fnur peers, and great commoners, and the
treasury, put a decided majority into the house, and though, in 1809, the house had
proof tendered (which it would not receive) that two of the Ministers had actually
sold a seat in the house, yet when, in 1817, we petitioned for such a reform as would
put an end to these odious practices, that house, instead of listening to our humble
prayers, passed a law which enabled the Ministers to put us into dungeons at their
pleasure, deprived of the sight of friends aud ofthe use of pen, ink, and paper, which
law was carried into effect with unheard-of severity and cruelty: we complain,
that, in 1819, a body of persons, peaceably met at Manchester, for the purpose
of petitioning the pariiament to adopt a reform in the Commons House, were
attacked by soldiers, and, to the amount of some hundreds, either killed, crippled,
or wounded : we complain, that the soldiers were by Lord Viscount Sidmouth
thanked, in his late Majesty's name, for their conduct on tbat sanguinary day : we
complain, that the House of Coramons refused all inquiry into that meraorable and
horrible transaction, bul that it, in that sarae session, passed six distinct acts, each
of which further and greatly abridged our rights aud liberties, and particularly two
of thera, by which tbe liberty of the press was, in effect, as far as related to the
working people, nearly extinguished, but above all things, we humbly beseech your
Majesty to remark, that that house, with the records of 1793, 1809, and 1819, before
it, passed a law inflicting fine, iraprisonraent, and even banishraent, on any man
or woman wbo should write, print, or publis hany-thing having even a tendency to
bring it into contempt.
Thus, may it please your Majesty, we have, in all humility and dutifulness, sub
mitted to your wisdom and justice a stateraent of a part of our manifold grievances
and sufferings : we have, in the sincerity of our hearts, expressed to you our firm
conviction, that all these have arisen frora our not being represented in pariiaraent ;
and as the raeans of restoring us to liberty and happiness, as the raeans of uniiing
all hearts in preserving the peace of o ur country and upholding the dignity and true
splendour of your Majesty's crown, we hurably but earnestly pray, that of those
great powers with which your Majesty is invested for the good of your faithful
people, you will be graciously pleased to make such use as shall produce a reform
in the Comraons' House, ensuring to all adult males, not insane and not tarnished
by indelible crime, a voice, given by ballot, in the choosing of representatives, and
ai shall shorten the duration of Parliaments.
And your petitioners, as in duty bound, will ever pray.

Gentlemen, I have read the petition with as much distinctness as I was able to
read it with, and I should now very rauch like that you should adopt it, if you ap
prove of it. (Applause.) As raany, therefore as wish this petition to be adopted and
presented to the king will hold up one hand. (Here every hand in the place, as it
seemed; was held up.) Now, gentlemen, if there be any one person here who really
believes that such a petition ought not to be adopted, will hold up his hand. (Not a
single hand was lifted up, and some amusement was for a moment created by sorae
one exclaiming, iu answer to Mr. Cobbett's request, that such a person, if present,
would lift up his hand — " He's just gone out.") Gentlemen, you will please to ob
serve, that I have not brought forward this petition for the purpose of gratifying any
vanity or arabition, or, in fact, any raotive or desire of my own. You must all be
sensible that I could have written aud otherwise published it, and tbat it would have
been known to be mine, as much, if I had not brought it here, as it will now. But
it is for this practical purpose, that it may be beard, and digested, and adopted by
you, and that we raay fix upon sorae rational and practicable plan of getting it signed
by great nurabers of persons in this city, that I have adopted the present course.
(Applause.) As I had the honour to tell you before, I will be one ofthe men to carry
the petition to the king. (Loud cheering.) At least, I will go alongside of it, for
we shall, I think, want a younger man to carry it. (Laughter.) Gentleraen, as I
have said before, we are arrived at a very important crisis. We have been long, as
our fathers were before us — we have been for 70 years talking of parliamentary re
form ; for from the lime of passing the Septennial act the people have been grum
bling and talking of the necessity of reforra ; at the beginning of the Araerican war
they were calling for reforra ; aye, and it was the want of reform that occasioned
that war, and lost us that fine country. So that we are doing nothing new ; but I
verily believe that we have approached the time when this cause, if we act properly,
will be crowned with success. The parties in the state stand thus : — The Whigs, as
they call themselves — the Whigs who, you will please to observe, made the national
debt, the Septennial act, and most of the other good things, and who have always
been more bitter eneraies to the people than the Tories — though, as factions, I de
spise andhate them both. (Cheers.) Oh, be not deceived by this faction — the Whigs
are coraing forward now, with a great parade, to kick out the Duke of Wellington
Gentlemen, the Duke is a general, and he would rather have a strong army than a
weak one. He knows that he could beat this faction if he had the people at his
back ; he would not much like such allies, to be sure ; but he must resort to them,
or he will be beaten. It begins, therefore, to be spread abroad, and I believe with
truth, that his intention is to do with reform as he did with the Catholic question,
(loud cheers) — to come and propose the reform himself. (Renewed cheers.) I believe
it. I believe it for this reason, that the Duke cannot carry on the government with
out it. I believe the Duke has sense enough to see that his estates are safer with re
form than without it ; and therefore I believe tbat he will propose it. If he does, then
all we shall have to do is to be on our guard not to be cheated. They are trying novv
to cheat the French people; but they will uot cheat thera ; they will have their tho
rough freedora before they have done, I'll proraise you. (Cheers.) So raust we take
care. Suppose that the Duke propose reforra : why then the Whigs raust join him
as they did in the Catholic business. Oh yes, be will bring thera all back then. Why,
to be sure ; he'll say, " Oh you must all come back now, to be sure ; here I've given
you all, and raore than you asked for. To be sure, you must all return to rae now."
Gentleraen, Whigs will then get together, and contrive such a reforra, if we vvill
bave it (laughter), that will be no reforra at all; that is, iny Lord Johu Russell's

10
reform. And, gentlemen, though this reforra, as well as the person who proposes
it, is very, very small, it is yet worth our while to bestow a few moments' attention
upon it. It is mild and moderate reform. Gentlemen, I recollect that Major Cart
wright once asked a lord who was a friend to moderate reform, and whose circum
stances the raajor unfortunately knew nothing about, what he would think ot mode
rate chastity in his wife ? It so happened that this was an unfortunate question to
put to that sarae lord. (Much laughter.) He felt that raoderate chastity was none
at all. And we shall find that moderate reforra is no reform at all. It is reform and
no reform. It is not the reform we want, which we pray for, and which we shall get,
if we persevere. (Cheers.) Lord John Russell's reform is this. He is for giving two
merabers to Manchester, two to Sheffield, two to Birmingham, and two to Leeds, so
that there would be eight additional members in the House. CMuch laughter.)
Perhaps, however, he means to disfranchise some of the rotten boroughs, for not
being cunning enough — for the crime of a rotten borough consists in letting its cor
ruption be seen aud proved. Well, this is the amount of Lord John Russell's reform ;
but at the same tirae it is to be observed that even here he proposes that the people
shall uot vote. There is to be no ballot, and no vote, unless a man pay such a thing
as 201. a year in rent. Why, that is the very evil we coraplain of. The people have
been oppressed, and broken down, and brought to the verge of a convulsion, in this
way, so that they have no feeling left but that of revenge. They have been brought
to this because they have had no voice in choosing their representatives. It is said
that Lord John is going to offer himself as a fit and proper person to represent the
Borough of Southwark. He is a very fit one to represent them, ifthey want to re
present the people, to be sure. He who, la.st winter, brought into the House of Com
mons a bill, and carried it through, in spite of the remonstrances of those affected
by it — brought in a bill by which he disfranchised 1800 inhabitants of the parish of
Bloorasbury, who voted in the vestry previously, and actually included in it two
overseers who had been chosen by the whole vestry. (Loud cries of " Shame,
shame.") So that if the people in the Bobough, as they call it by way of emi
nence, if the people in the Borough choose hira to be their representative, all 1 can
say is, that they want a radical reforra in the Borough. (Laughter and cheers.)
Gentlemen, as I was saying before, the great thing for us to guard against is, the
juggling of the factions when they get together. The Whigs will appear at public
meetings, and endeavour to ingratiate themselves with the people, and the people
with their good-nature, if once a man can only persuade them that he intends their
good, will stick to him for a long while, and view every-thing he says and does iu
the raost favourable light. I say, then, that we raust guard against these fellows,
who will chop away, and modify the thing, till at last we shall find ourselves with a
reforra of the Parliament that will make no change for the better. (Cheers.) But,
gentlemen, there is one single thing, which is a test, a touch-stone for a reformer ;
wherever you find a man who is not for the ballot, be you sure that raan is the
enemy of reform. (Loud and long-continued applause.) That is tbe great point to
maintain, as they well know. V/hy, at this time, there is Broughara, and Wilson,
andDcnman, and Dennison, and Western, and Russell, who have all declared
against the ballot. " It is an un-English practice," they say : yes, and to be taxed
so as to break our backs is an un-English practice, also. (Applause.) Well, give
me the no-taxes in Araerica, and the ballot of America, and then let it be American,
or what you will. Give rae that in preference to the having my earnings taken away
by taxation, and being refused a vote for those who are to represent me in Parlia
ment. (Cheers.) Inadequate as the Bourbons have made the representation of tbe

11
people in France, the French would have been slaves, had it not been for the ballot.
(Cheers.) They had in fact given them so little, that their representation was little
more than a show ; but unluckily for themselves, they gave thera voting by ballot
and the people of France have shown us, that although the voting vvas confined to
80,000 men, out of eight or nine millions, they could choose their assemblies in such
a way, as to induce the Bourbons to commit acts which have driven tbem from the
throne and the country. (Applause.) Therefore it is of the greatest importance that
we should direct our efforts to secure voting by ballot. They say, " Oh, if you are
going to vote honestly, why not say who you are going to vote for ?" The best
answer to that is, " Why should I say ? What good will that do you ? What right
have you to ask me whom I ara going to vote for, any raore than you have to ask me
what I ara going to buy? But if you do ask, why should I tell? Why should
there be a law to raake you tell for whom you are going to vote ?" Aye, why, for this
plain reason, that they wish to make you vote for persons that you do not like. (Ap
plause.) There is no other reason, and I defy any man to produce one. For my
own part I would accept the ballot alone, if there were nothing but principle at
stake, and let thera continue all other things as they are. Let thera retain Gatton,
and Old Sarum, and the elections by corporations and mayors, and all the other
abominable tricks, only let us vote every-where by ballot. Why, if there had been
voting by ballot, do you think that four gentlemen whom I could name would sit as
members for a city not far frora this spot? (Laughter and cheers.) Do you think
they would have been returned for that^city this very year ? Do you not think that
this town could exhibit four young raen, taken frora any counting-house, vvho would
be much more fit to represent tbe city than these ? (Cheers.) Aye, and four others
would have been chosen, to be sure, had the people been able to vote as they
pleased ; bad they not bien asked for whom they were going to vote. If instead of
¦being exposed to this inquiry the people had been left to drop a ballot in a box, you
would not have seen raembers sitting for a city that had been pelted off the hustings.
(Laughter and cheers.) Suppose that a man were to stand for the Borough, who
was likely to do the borougbmongers any mischief, why, they would spend 100,0O0Z.
rather than he should be returned ; but if he be a weak or complaisant mau, one
who will do as he is bidden, or, at least, who will uot do them any barm, then they
will let him go on, without governraent interference ; for if the worst corae to tbe
worst, tbey can bribe hira. If he be a raan whom they know they cannot bribe,
a man who is capable of doing them much mischief, full of knowledge and resolu
tion lo act, then half tbe treasury would be poured out, before he should be returned.
All this, however, would be of no use if we had the ballot, for the man who would
be dishonest enough to take 50/. for giving his vote, would be dishonest enough to
vole for another man afterwards. (Cheers.) There would be no canvassing, no kiss
ing of freemen's wives, and slipping a guinea through the kiss. Oh, no, there would
be no such sweet works then going on. The wife would have no power over the hus
band ; she might, to be sure, twist up a ballot for him, but he might make another
as he went along. (Applause.) Gentlemen, it is the fair and honest way, and any
man who is opposed to it, is opposed to a fair and honest election of a raember of
Parliament. Gentlemen, as to tbe effect to be produced by our petition, I believe it will, be
very great, if we do our duty as we ought to do. My part I have not neglected ; and
my opinion is, that the petition having received the unaniraous approbation of this
meeting — for notwithstanding that the sages of the daily press, wbo have so raany
more important things to attend to, do nut think our meetings worthy of their notice.

12
be you assured that the ministers, and the boroughmongers, aye, and the king too,
knows soraething about them, though the way to make his Majesty know properly
about them will be to clap 10,000 names at the bottom of the petition. — My opinion,
then, is, that the petition, which may be considered as the manifesto of the working
people, will produce great effect. It is your petition, it has beeu adopted by you,
though I dare say some of the sages of the press, when they come to hear of it, will
say, " Oh, it is only Cobbett's petition ; it 's only Cobbett's petition." I recollect
when I had the honour to present for adoption a petition at a county meeting in
Norfolk, the boroughmongers at whom it was aimed, took care that the people
assembled should not hear a word of it when it was read. They planted little
platoons here and there throughout the meeting who kept up an incessant noise,
and prevented even the nearest person from bearing any of its contents. It
was, however, adopted by a large majority. When Canning saw the petition he
vvas rauch alarmed, and expressed his wonder that such a petition should come
frora the people of Norfolk. " Oh," said two or three, vvho were surrounding
him, " that 's nothing ; it 's ouly Cobbett's petition." "So much the worse," re
plied Canning. " Oh, but," rejoined they, " the people did not hear a word of it
read." " So rauch the worse," said Canning again ; " do you not perceive thatit
all raakes against yourselves. If the people were willing to take a petition from his
hand, without hearing a word of it read, tbat makes it all the worse for us." Let
them say, then, " It is Cobbett's petition," ifthey will; but, gentlemen, it will not
be Cobbett who puts 10,000 names at the bottom of it. (Applause.) But the mon
strousness of supposing that the matter is at all affected by the person frora whom
it has proceeded! What, then, I suppose we are to judge of the character of all
the documents that issue from the yarious offices, by the character of the clerk vvho
happens to wri^ them out ! And also that we are to judge of 3n act of Parliament from
the meraber who happens to bring in the bill I But they say, "Oh, theyare all
one petition." Well, and why not all one petition ? Do we not all of us pray on
Sundays in the same words ? I know I was taught very carefully to read my
prayers, though not written by me. Why, then, may you not sign a petition, though
not written by yourselves ? (Cheers.) The pariiaraent, indeed, set its face against
receiving any petition in a printed form. And why? Because it was not respect
ful to the House ! (Laughter.) Hut it is respectful enough to God, they think, to
present printed petitions. " Oh, but vve are such high persons, you must write the
petition with your own hands." Gentlemen, this is one of the many methods of im
peding the right of petitioning. (Cheers.) We will devise some method of getting
this petition numerously signed, and then we may either wait till the kiug comes to
town, or go down to Brighton and present it. (Great applause.) If we do our duty,
I again repeat, 1 believe it will produce a. great effect on the mind of his Majesty,
and the Governraent, and the Parliament too. It is the manifesto of the middle
and working classes of the people of England, against the encroachments of the
aristocracy. The contest lies there. What need they care about putting members
into Parliament ? Why should they expose themselves to the odium of borough-
mongering ? It is for something that they are doing all this. It is to take the
money out of our pockets, and put it into tbeir own. That is the short and the long
of it; and there is nothing more to be said about it. We want a reforra in Parlia
ment, that will put an end to Ihis ; and that will never be effected till the people
choose the representatives for themselves. After thanking the audience, which
crowded every part of the theatre to excess, for their attention, Mr . Cobbetf con
cluded amidst the most enthusiastic applause.

z.ibi:b.tv of tbs press asserted:

On Saturday, October 9, will be published, on a sheet of paper, double the size
of Cobbett's Register, folded into a pamphlet, and containing 32 closely-
printed pages, in double columns, price Four-Pence,
A POLITICAL LETTER,
ADDRESSED TO
A FRIEND or an ENEMY, (as events may suggest,)
CONTAINING
A COMPREHENSIVE DIGEST OF
ALL THE PUBLIC EVENTS
AND PASSING
OCCURRENCES OF THE DAY,
Both Foreign and Domestic,
¦ACCOMPANIED WITH
ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS AND COMMENTS.

PRAY READ -WHAT FOLLO^WS !
It is unnecessary to inform the British Public, that among other results of the late
wars with America and France, waged by the English Aristocracy, for the purpose of
repressing the rising liberties of the world, is to be enumerated that measure which
has for so long a period deprived the people of political knowledge, by the imposition
of a heavy tax upon every newspaper, more than one-half the selling price of which
is paid, before publication, into his Majesty's treasury. The Act of 38 Geo. iii. c. 78
(1798), imposes upon each newspaper printed in England or Scotland, a duty of four-
pence to the king ; and further requires the proprietors, under very heavy penalties,
to enter into certain sureties and recognizances ;— but with these most oppressive and
unjust requireraents it is unnecessary that we should now trouble the reailer. Other
and more fitting opportunities for this vvill present themselves, and we shall then
not fail to express ourselves fully and freely upon the subject.
The act to which we have referred, did not, however, totally deprive the people of
the means of acquiring political knowledge, or of opportunities to obtain an insight
into the proceedings of the administrations under which they lived, Political
pamphlets could still be published, and were published, not without effect, down to
the year 1820. In the course of this year, the late Lord Castlereagh, of blessed me
mory, introduced bis far-famed SIX ACTS, one of which was levelled at the aforesaid
political pamphlets, and was intended by the liberal administration of which the uo-

14
ble lord was so bright an ornament, to shut out from the people the partial light
they had retained, and plunge them into utter darkness, as to the proceedings of those
who were placed at the helm of public affairs.
This Act provides that " oH pamphlets and papers, containing an^ public news,
intelligence, or occurrences, or any remarks or observations thereon, or upon any
matter in Church or State, printed in any part ofthe United Kingdom for sale, and
published periodically, ur io parts, or numbers, at intervals of time not exceeding
twenty-six days, shall be deeraed and taken to be newspapers, within the true intent
and raeaning of the Act of 38 Geo. iii. c. 78."
By this Act, the Castlereagh Adrainistration purposed the suppression of every
publication which was designed to bring before the public the political occurrences
ofthe times, or to expose the tendency of the political measures ofthe Government,
"The gone-by Governraent to which we owe this monument of shame, was," as the
Westminster Reviewers justly observe, " the enemy of information, becanse the
extension of information was its deadliest foe. It was a Governraent whose pro
ceedings would have been impracticable, under a state of public iuformation ; and,
consequently, its first interest was to do all that might retard those advances which
it could not totally prevent  One administration, in 1797, imposes a stamp
duty on newspapers, because they let in too rauch light upon the public; and
another, iu 1819, enacts, for the sarae reason, that pamphlets and printed papers
shall be newspapers."
There is a very important error in the last member of this sentence, as the reader
will shortly perceive, but vve bave quoted the passage from this able and honest
and patriotic work, because it properly characterises the motives whence the restric
tions on the English press have emanated. One thing, however, is certain ; namely,
that the sapient statesraen from whora the act of 1820 proceeded, exulted in ihe
supposed consumraation of their object, when the assent of Parliament and the
Crown was given to their measure. Upon the creation of the law, most of these
pamphlets disappeared, and to the previous cost of those which survived, was added
FOUR-PENCE, vvhich passed into the coffers of the state.
It is unnecessary hereto dwell upon the consequences ofthis measure; — they were
just what were anticipated and intended by its projectors, and are to be found
existing in the degraded, the prostrate, and the spiritless condition of the people,
under au accuraulation of privations and moral aud physical evils never before
existing in the country, and which could not have been thus protracted had not the
freedom ofthe press been destroyed.
But now for our remedy ! How has it happened that the blunders and short
sightedness of the Castlereagh law-makers have never yet been discovered ? How
is it that the people of England, against whose poliiical rights the infamous Act of
1820 was levelled, have hitherto failed to perceive, that notwithstanding the anxiety,
and the care, and the skill of Attorneys and Solicitors General, and the whole
phalanx of Treasury Lawyers and Legislators, that Act is after all so lame and im
perfect as to be wholly inadequate to restrain the publication of such works as may
supply all the political information that raay be desired !
Is not this a discovery of iramense importance to the public; and is there a man
in the three kingdoras who will refuse us his assistance, in our deterraination to bring
the question to an issue ? If we succeed— of which it is impossible to entertain a
doubt— we shall be entitled to the credit not only of evading— fairiy evading- one of
the raost unjust fiscal extortions ever known, but also of breaking up the injurious
monopoly of the Newspaper Press. As the law is now permitted to operate, it is per
sons with enorraous capitals only who can become directors of the public mind, upon
subjects of a political character. The evils of this are too apparent to require enu
meration, nor would the limits of a prospectus perrait of it, were such an enuraeration
desirable.— We pass on, therefore, to that which more immediately concerns us in
this appeal to the public.
The Act of 1798 prohibits, as we have already stated, the publication of a news-
paper, except upon the payment to the Crown of a duty offmirpence upon each num
ber, and of three shillings and sixpence upon each advertisement, and a. compliauce

!5
with a number of other vexatious and expensive conditions. The subsequent Act of
1820 extends the like imposition upon all pamphlets, containing news, intelligence,
occurrences, &c. published periodically , or ia parts or numbers, within certain inter
vals of time. But beyond this it does not proceed. Pe)iodical political pamphlets
only are prohibited ; and for the publication of these, only, cau the Castlereagh Act
visit with punishraent I
This, then, is the discovery we have made ; and we purpose, with the aid of the
public, to act upon it. On the evening of Saturday, Oct. 9th, we design to publish a
LETTEU, addressed either to one of our cousins in the country, or to one of our states
men in town, in which we will give as full anil comprehensive an abstract of public
occurrences in every part of the world as is to be found in any weekly newspaper ;
accompanied with such comments, strictures, or other reraarks, as the nature of the
case may require. This we will follow each week by a somewhat similar, but totally
distinct, publication. Long experience, acquired in conducting one of the must
popular newspapers of the metropolis, will enable us to bring facilities possessed by
few, tu our new undertaking, and afford a guarantee of its respectability.
It is scarcely necessary, after what we have said, to raake any declaration of our
political principles. We will add, however, that we are desirous to identify our
selves with no party, but that of the people. Every public measure, the design of
which is to advance the public good, whether adequate to its purposes or otherwise,
will command our respectful consideration, emanate from whom it may. Measures
rather than men will be tbe objects of our inquisition ; argument and not abuse, the
power which we will exercise. An intimate knowledge of the accuraulated griev
ances under which the whole of the productive interests suffer, will induce us to hail
vvith pleasure the raost limited concession to their demands, without in the slightest
degree abating our ardour in pursuit of the whole of those ameliorations which
justice requires. In a word, while we shall give our unqualified approbation to
every proposed reform of legislature, commercial, local, or judicial abuse, as so
many mitigations of tbe aggregate evil, — we will never rest satisfied till we shall
have seen the source whence it all proceeds entirely broken up, by such a reforra in
the Commons House of Parliainent as shall restore to the whole people that share in
the government which is guaranteed to them by the constitution, but of which they
have been defrauded by a corrupt and overgrown aristocracy.
Advertisements will be inserted on the usual terms ; and as our circulation will be
extensive in proportion to the comparatively low price of the work, it offers peculiar
advantages to advertisers. Oifice, 1, Bouverie-street, Fleet-street.
*»* Persons in the country desirous to become agents, are requested to write
(post paid) to the office, giving their references in town.

16
Publishing in pumbers, neatly printed in 18ino., embellished with engravings,
(to be continued weekly,) price Two-pence,
ANECDOTES OF THE SECOND FRENCH REVOLUTION:
Embracing Details ofthe Leading Occurrences in Paris ; with Biographical Sketches
of the principal actors ; derived frora authentic sources.
*»• The public are cautioned against confounding this work with "Annals of
tbe French Revolutiou." This is not a raere collection of scraps from the news
papers, which are in every person's hands, thrown together without order or arrange
ment, but a well-digested and detailed Historical Sketch of French Affairs and
Occurrences, from the forraation of the Polignac Cabinet, to the consolidation of
the New Government ; with Biographical Notices of the principal persons connected
with the events ofthe recent Revolution.
"I ara not going to give you a history, or narrative, of the recent transactions in
France, you will find that done in a little work published in London, at Strange's
Publication Warehouse, in Paternoster-row. These numbers are published weekly,
price two-pence, and are very well worthy of your attention." — Mr. Cobbett's Two-
Penny Trash, No. 3.
" This little work possesses the rare merit of containing more than its title-page
would lead us to expect. It promises anecdotes, and gives us a history, written too
with special reference to the people of England, and the lessons to them which are
derivable from it." — Weekly Free Press.
" The work will forra a most valuable addition to the poor man's library,"— Co-
operative MisceUany, Sept.
" This is, without exception, the neatest, most elegant, and one of the best-written
and cheapest publications we have met vvith." — Reformers' Register, Sept.
THE CO-OPERATIVE MISCELLANY. (Price fourpence monthly.
" This publication might be appropriately styled, ' The Workman's Friend,'~every-
body should read it."
The QUARTERLY REPORTS of the British Association for Pro-
moting Co-operative Knowledge. Nos. 2, 3, and 4, twopence each. N.B. Persons
inquiring ' What is Co-operation?' should read these Reports.
Mt. OWEN'S SUNDAY MORNING LECTURES, (Weel^ly, price
threepence,) on an entire New State of Society ; comprehending an Analysis ot
British Society relative to the Production and Distribution of Wealth ; the Forma
tion of Character ; aud Government, Domestic and Foreign. Nos. 1 to 9 now ready.
Price 3d., printed uniformly vvith Mr. Owen's Lectures.
An EXAMINATION OF MR. OWEN'S DOCTRINES OF HUMAN
RESPONSIBILITY, and the Influence of Circumstances in the Formation of
Character. All the Co-operative Publications supplied.
EVERY MAN HIS OWN BREWER; or the Art of Brewing
clearly explained ; with au Abstract of the New Act for regulating the Sale of Beer.
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THE ARTICLE on RADICAL REFORM, reprinted from the West-
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APPE.4Lof The Metropolitan Political Union to the People
of England ; price One Penny ; or 4s. Gd. per hundred for distribution.

X..UIIUUII. ouaiige, .il, raiernosier KOW ; UhaDoell Roval T?..nV.„„ /-¦ • la
Goswell Road; Purkess, Cl, Wardour Street; KnE^edsW^^irT ',!
Marshall, Newcastle-on-Tyne; and all BooksP 1^^^ ' ^''^' ' Wroe, Manchester ;

l-rinted by MiUs, Jowett, ond Mills, Bolt-court, FlelJuTteitr

A FIFTH
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BIT WIZ.Z.ZAM; COBBSTT..
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge, on
Thursday, Sept. I6th, 1830.

Gentlemen, Every time we raeet here, we have the happiness to congratulate ourselves
that there has been another revolution, that there has been another blow given to
some tyrant or another. (Great cheering.) And, gentleraen, if the French revolu
tion go thus round the world — for already it is all over the Continent — do you believe
that WE shall much longer suffer ourselves to be trarapled upon by the borough
mongers ? (Loud cheers, and cries of. No, no.) I do not expect it, at any rate. I
have first, gentlemen, to address you on the petition which you did rae the
honour unaniraously to agree to on Monday evening. That petition has been
printed, and it will be sold for a penny, so that any-body who has a raind
can procure it, and seud it into the country, or circulate it araong his neigh
bours. I should very cheerfully have given them away, but had I done that, the
boroughmongers have sorae friends who would have taken not a few, and put them
to a very different purpose from the one intended by me. Before I go horae this
evening, I expect to see a gentleraan who will undertake to deposit copies at proper
places in and about London, for the purpose of procuring signatures. One, perhaps,
will lie here, another io the city, another in the Borough, and otbers in different
parts of the city of Westminster, and in the villages around London (cheers) ; — so
that we may get together, if we can— and I think we can, very easily — so that vve
may get affixed to it the names of 20,000 men ; each man being able to bear a mus-
[Strange, Paternoster -row. — Price Three-pence.']

ket. (Immense cheering.) Gentlemen, that is my recommendation, for there's the
strength of a couutry, there are the means of defending people's liberties and a
<^ood king. (Renewed cheers.) There are tho means of doing that. Well, then,
gentlemen, I hope to have the happiness of seeing upon it the names of 20,000 men,
each one of them being able to carry a musket. I do not care how much a man
has in his pocket, or in the funds. I do not cate how much raoney nor how little
money he has got ; I am for taking tbe old motto Of Warwickshire — ¦
" ARMS and the raen" —
the Birmingham motto, that's the motto for me ; I carfe not whether a man be rich
or poor, so that he be willing to get the thing accomplished expressed in the petition,
and be willing to use his utmost endeavours to obtain the liberty it recommends.
Gentlemen, my wish is, that none should sign this petition who are uot above fifteen
years of age ; those who are above that age are no bad stuff. (Laughter and cheers.)
I remeraber that before I was quite that age, I carried a musket in the service of
tlie late king, George III. ; and if I could carry a rausket at that age, why may not
another man .'¦ All those, then, who are able to carry a rausket, I want to sign,
without any regard to age or property; (Cheers.) We are in no great hurry, raind,
so that the petition be ready by the 20th of October. Let me bope that no man will
neglect ; that no man vvill think it too much trouble to walk frora his home to the
place where a petition will be, to affix his narae to it. Every man ought to say,
" The success of this depends upon rae; upoh my signature ;" and not, ou the con
trary, that there will be enough without hira. That is the fatal error that raen com
mit. They say, " Oh, there will be plenty without me ; there is no necessity for me
to trouble myself about the raatter." And thus almost every-thing fails. Every
mail, then, should say, in a matter like this, upon which the welfare of his country
and of hiraself and family hinges — "It depends upon rae ; if I do not do it, it will not
be done at all." (Cheers.) A printed petition will be deposited at each of the sta
tions, so tbat persons niay read it, or those ivho cannot read, get it read fo them by
others, before tbey put tlieir names to it. When these are all signed, they may be
collected and fastened together at the end of an engrossed copy of the petition and
the whole may be rolled together— no matter if it make a roll twice as large as my
body. (Laughter.) And, genUemen, as I had the honour to say to you before, I will
be one of the persons to go with it to the King, and if it be so large that I am not
able to carry it, I will walk by the side of those who do. (Cheers.) My decided opinion
is, that if vve do as we ought to do, we sha;ll not only set au example to the whole
country, but that oiir petition alone will have a very great effect in producing that
change we have so much at heart, and upon which the happiness of the country
depends. The other topics upon which I wish to address you are, first, as to what the mi
nisterial—the boroughmohgering, 1 should call them— newspapers are saying with
regard to this last revolution. You are aware, gentleraen, that there is a revolution
in tbe state of Brunswick. This state is about the size of the county of Hertfprd-
perhaps it is not worth half so much as this county, but it contains somewhere about
the same number of inhabitants, and has certainly been much more oppressed than
the people of Hertford are, and more than, I hope and believe, the people of Hertford
will ever submit to. Now, the first reflection that naturally occurs to us, after liearing
that that tyrant has been actually burned out of his palace, aud comp'elledto sneak
away in disguise, is. Where is he gone to? Is there any spot on earth where this

tyrant will be allowed to dwell in safety ? Yes ; England is that spot. (Loud mur
murs.) Gentleraen, he is here ; so that we have now two tyrants in England, who
have been driven frora their dominions ; how many more are to come before we
make England what it ought to be, I do not pretend to know. Gentleuien, a series
of reflections arise here, which may not, probably, occur to the minds of the young
men present. The first great attempt to put the French revolution dovyn, in tlie
year 1792, was by the Duke of Brun.'swick ; he was the father of Ibis duke, to be
sure, but it is running well in the blood. The manifesto put forth by that duke, when
he entered France at the head of a Prussian army, ought now to be read by every
man in England, by every man living ; it ought to be printed, and stuck upon the
back of the run-away son. That very duke, gentlemen, was finally driven from his
throne by the French, was wounded in battle, and died in exile. Flis son is now
in exile, driven away from his states. These are lessons for tyrants, and tyraiits of all
descriptions, whether called PRINCES or BOROUGHMONGERS (applause) ; les
sons which ought to be attended to, though whether they will produce their proper effect
is more than I can say. But the boroughraonger newspapers, as I was going to say,^
are actually joining in conderaning this duke. They say he is atyrant, and they say,
further, that really there ought to be sorae change take place ia despotic governments,
— those of <Ae continent, (Laughter.) Now, I can see no difference in the nature of
despotism whether exercised upon a continent or an island. (Cheers.) No : tyranny
is tyranny, whether surrounded immediately by tbe sea, or not. Certainly, I believe
that this duke was a greater tyrant than was ever heard of, because he robbed the
post-ofiice (laughter), and took people's money out of their letters ; so that he was
really a robber as well as a tyrant. But I ara quite satisfied, that, upon the whole, the
people of Brunswick never suffered more than the mass of the industrious people of
England and Ireland. (Cheers.) They do not tell us, that in Brunswick men were
transported without trial by a jury ; that whole parishes, as in Ireland, were receiv
ing extreme unction in the prospect of imraediate death by starvation ; they do not
tell us — and if it had been the case, you raay depend upon it we should have heard
of it in some way or another — they do not tell us that men in Brunswick lived upon
nettles and other unwholesome herbs — food unfit for hogs — and died from so livin"".
And yet ibis has been the case in England and in Ireland over and over again.
Gentlemen, we know, for it is notorious, that within five months, five raen were
found dead — aye, and within five miles of the royal palace, too — found dead in a ditch,
from actual starvation. (Loud murmurs.) Their stomachs were opened, and found lo
contain nothing but sour sorrel of the field, which had been eaten to preserve their
lives, but to no purpose. This happened in England, and when the prirae minister was
told of itin parliaraent, although several days after it had been in all the newspa
pers, and after proof of the fact had been produced before a coroner's inquest, he said
he knew nothing about it. (Loud disapprobation.) Gentlemen, his attorney-general
would have heard if a libel had been written on his highness of Waterloo ; he would
have heard if a paper had been published, having a tendency to bring the Prince
of Waterloo into contempt. (Laughter and cheers.) But the death of these five poor
men he knew nothing about. I do not stop to inquire whether they were English
or Irish ; this raakes uot the least difference ; they were starved to death in England,
where the law is ihis ; that no man, whether au Englishman or a foreigner, whatever
may be bis character, shall suffer from want, cold, or clothing. Wherever a man is
found to be in want, these laws say he shall be relieved. And yet in spite of these
laws, owing to the two bills to which I had the honour to call your attgntion the

other evening, these men were permitted to starve. Gentleraen, the pariiament was
sitting at tbe° tirae, and yet there was not a single raan to bring forward au inquiry
into the causes of this horrible occurrence. Gentleraen, we never heard of any-thing
like this in Brunswick, or any other country ; and yet the boroughraonger news
papers applaud the driving away of the Duke of Brunswick, and say they won
der that tbe people have endured his tyranny so long. I suppose there is no one to
say to them, " I wonder the people of England endure the tyranny of the borougii
raongers so long." (Applause.) However, they say there wants a good deal of
reform on the continent,-that the continental governments stand in need of reform.
Yes, gentlemen, and we know a government in an island that wants a good deal
of reform. (Cheers.) Then, again, they say in general terms, not distinguishing
continents from islands, they go on saying, "A wise statesman will always see when
it is necessary to make a reforra ; he will never atterapt to keep the people down by
physical force ; "—thatis, when he finds tbat it will not avail. We have seen states.
men attempt it. (Cheers.) " No, a wise statesman will not attempt that, but will
see in time what is wanted by the improvements of the age, and the enlightened
state of society, and will make such a reforra as is called for by the circurastances of
the people." But they go on : — " We do not mean such reform, however, as is
called for by wild and visionary men ; " that is to say, such as giving to every man a
vote, limiting the duration of parliaments, and protecting the people by the ballot.
(Immense applause.) This is the substance of what they say : — 'Fhere are tyrants
on the continent, and they are not surprised at revolutions there, but they say there
is no need for a revolution to take place here. Oh, no, not at all, because we are
not in such a state ; here are excellent laws, and though we have a military force,
as it is only to enforce the execution of excellent laws, nobody can object to it.
(Laughter.) Why, ihe answer to this is. If our laws be such, if they be so adrairably
adapted to secure the peace and happiness of the people, why have a military force
at all ? The main drift of the whole, gentlemen, is tu tell us, that there is to be a
reform of the pariiament granted ; and, as 1 have said before, the only thing we
have to guard against is, their cheating us a second time. (Cheers.) And without
debating tbe question with them — for there is no room for^debate, the principles
which we claira, and the grounds of our claim, are proved to be sound ; they know well
that we know vvhat is just aud right — and the only question is, whether we shall
permit them to carry this thing on any longer? (Applause.) The question is
whether we are to bave the ballot? (Renewed applause.) If any man, be he
who he raay, if any man pretend tbat he wishes for reforra— for fair play-
and yet object to the ballot, he is a political cheat, and so he ought to be considered
and treated. ^
Besides this petition, gentlemen, the next thing to be done— and it is the duty of
all to do it— is this. When his Majesty goes to the house to open the parliament,
the whole eyes ofthe country will be directed towards us in London. They will be
wanting to see what we do here— and I do hope that there will be 200,000 meu to
greet his Majesty sincerely— to applaud him as be goes to the House and at the
same time to cry out '< WILLIAM IV. and REFORM ! " (Immense and long-con
tinued applause.) Gentlemen, we can hardly estimate— I have not words, 1 am sure,
to describe— the effect of such a proceeding. And why should it not be ? It is in
all your hearts to wish well to his Majesty ; you have a right to applaud his gracious
conduct on all occasions to his people. We therefore ought to applaud him ; and at
the same time, the strong condemnation of our enemies would be, to accompany the

applause ofthe King with a call for reform. (Renewed cheers.) It is the aristocracy,
against which this petition to the King is directed. — It is the manifesto of the
people, Manifestos are papers — declarations put forth by powers who are beginning
to go to war, or who are actually at war with each other. I am sure that the bo
roughmongers have been for many years raaking war upon us, and now we propose
to defend ourselves. For ours is u war of defence; we do not want to get any-thing
more than is our due ; we want no innovations ; vve will take nothing that does not be
long to us; we want only to make them give up our dominions, most of which they
have invaded within the last 40 years. This, then is our manifesto ; the showing of our
cause; the grounds of our proceedings; tbe grounds of that political war which I
trust wc shall now carry on against tbem, till we have made them subrait to raake
peace on honourable terras. (Applause.) The boroughmongers, however, are greatly
alarmed at this, and I believe that very soon we shall have a regular manifesto from
them. Gentlemen, we shall see what cause they show ; what grounds they put for
ward, for taking three-fourths of our earnings, and putting them into their own
packets ; what reason they show for taking one million six hundred thousand pounds
from us, to give to the clergy, iitaddition to their enorraous revenues ; what cause
they show for taking from the people 100,000i. to give in half-pay to meo, who were
at the same tirae receiving tithes, aud dues, aud Easter-offerings, and all these sorts
of things. We shall see what grounds theyshow for 113 of thera taking frora us
650,000i, a year. Oh yes, they will state all this, doubtless. 1 dare say they'll give a
good reason for transporting us if we be out in the pursuit of garae, and making the
rest, who are not permitted to touch this game, pay all the expenses. (Cheers.)
Let us not wait for their manifesto, however, but proceed to war at once. If
they do not choose to put fortli their manifesto, in answer to ours, they are with
out excuse, without any defence, or show of defence. But, as I said before, 1 do
think that they mean to put forth such a manifesto, for one of them has broken the
groimd, at a dinner given to the Duke of Wellington, at Manchester, a few days
since. He complained of the people. (Laughter.) Gentlemen, that's the right way
of going to work. When a man, who knows he is in the wrong, is going to defend
himself, the right way of going to work is to complain of those who attacked hira —
just as the wolves did with regard to the sh eep ; they coraplained of the ferocity of the
sheep, and desired thera to give up their dogs, that they might, in future, live upon
good terms. (Laughter.) Just so the aristocracy appear to be going to work. At
their dinner, the Earl of Wilton complained that the people were beginning to treat
the aristocracy with disrespect. What ! treat with disrespect those who gave us two
admirals for every ship of the line, and one commissioned ofiicer to every five pri
vate raen ? What I treat them with disrespect, two farailies of whom have received
in sinecures, during 40 years, as much as has cairied on the whole governraent of tbe
United States ? Treat thera with disrespect ? That would, indeed, be monstrous !
Oh no, that can't be ; we are not such ungrateful monsters as all that, neither.
(Much laughter.) But, gentlemen, hear what the Earl of Wilton says. After hav
ing applauded the arts, manufactures, and industry of the people of Manchester —
—oh yes, gentlemen, they praise the industry of the people ; they'll praise the bees,
just as the farmer's wife does ; after praising the bees a good deal, he discovered that
there were some wasps among them, and that they had stings, too ; and ray Lord
Wilton got very uneasy. He said this :— " He might be allowed to allude to the
public opinion theu existing— it was striding athwart the land," — public opinion
Striding athwart tl)e land !— that's a lord's figurCj I suppose. (Laughter.)— " It was

striding athwart the land,"— mind this—" and was fraught with considerable dan
ger. He remembered when the public opinion breathed obedience to the laws— he.
reditary attachment to the aristocracy — loyalty and affection to the throne. He
should be the last raan to say that those sentiraents did not now exist ; but he thought
that they were at least lessened in degree"— Aye, gentlemen, (said Mr. Cobbett,)
and for this reason, (striking his hand on the petition.)—" To what cause to trace
this he knew not."— Then he had not seen this petition. (Cheers.) I could tell him
of 500 things, each of vvhich is sufficient to produce this change. " God forbid !"—
See how very pious they ahvays are. (Laughter.) I recollect very well, that when
old George Rose, who was one of Pitt's creatures, used to introduce any-thing by
saying, " I vow to God," Pitt used to say, " Now mind what a lie he 's going to tell."
(Laughter.) Certain it is that he. ahvays did tell a lie after vowing to God. (Re.
newed laughter.) — " God forbid that be should say or do aught lo stem the current
of knowledge ; but he could not help regretting that the source from which it
sprung," — the meaning of which is, if lords have any meaning, that owing to the
people having been taught to read aud write, they are now armed at all points
against the aristocracy; and that tbe aristocracy have been the cause of teaching tbem.
This is a great point, because I am going to show that it is the greatest falsehood
that ever came out of even aristocratical lips — " He could not help regretting, that
the higher classes, by whose liberality it had been bestowed, should be the first to be
overwhelmed by the stream."
With regard to tbe people liking the aristocracy,! never knew them to beveryfond
of them, and Lord Wilton is not rauch more than half as old as rayself. If they ever
were fond of them, it was some time before 1715, vvhen the cursed septennial
bill was passed. But this man talks of his ancestors, and glories in his ancestors in
connexion vvith Manchester, and he enters into all tbeir feelings. Now, who were
the ancestors of this man ? This Lord Wilton, who is an earl in some way, it seems,
in the right of his mother, is the second son of Lord Grosvenor; and he brags of his
ancestry, his noble ancestry. Now, his noble grandfather was one of Pitt's peers;
and his noble grandmother vvas what I will not name. (Laughter.) However, slie
was a very loyal person ; for vve soldiers used to call all those girls loyal who were
fond of tbe soldiers. (Renewed laughter.) Ujion tbese grounds, then, this lady gave
the best evidence of her love towards the royal faraily, and her attachment to loyalty.
So rauch for bis noble grandfather and bis noble grandmother. His father, tben;
what of him ? He is Lord Grosvenor, and you know I dare not say about him what is
not true; I am answerable in law, and before the Attorney-General, for what I saycf
him here, as much as if I printed and published it. As to his private character, I
know nothing, and care nothing ; it is with'how he acts towards us that I have to do.
(Cheers.) Now, I vvill relate oue anecdote concerning him. He vvas educated prin.
cipally by a gentleraan named William Gifford, wbo was his tutor, and who travelled
with hira, and continued with hira frora his being a little boy, to his entering into
parliaraent, at which time he was so learned, that it was long a standing joke that
he attempted to raake a speech in Greek. (Laughter.) Well, Gifford was, of course,
no longer wanted when my Lord Belgrave went into parliament. He vvas, there
fore, to be provided for by the man whom be had educated and travelled witb. And
how vvas he provided for? By being made a sinecurist till his death. He was made
clerk of tbe foreign estreats in tbe exchequer, forwhich he received about 400/. a
year for 30 years; besides which he had a double coramissionership in the lotterj-
Soou after he procured the latter appointment, the lottery ceased to be drawn in the

presence of commissioners, but Giffprd retained his coramissionership to the end of
his life. Now, if there had .bee.n amo^ig tl^e tpad-eaters of ]VIaj)ch,e^ter, wlip get
large fortunes by having in their eraployraent hundi;eds of poor fej.lp,vi[s yvhp ar^ com
pelled to labour for less than the means of subsistence — if there h^d, been one.hQnest
man there, ought he not to have got up aud ausvvere4 him tfius : — " H&re, my Lprd,
is the reason why the people do not like the aristpcracy." (Cheers.)
'Fhen this lord says, that it is the aristocracy who, bave taught the people to
read and write, and made them capable of discussing politics, and making themselves
their enemies. Itis therefore very cruel to make their generous benefactors thpir first
vic-tims. How stands tbe fact, gentlemen? It is this. The new syst.em of educa
tion — the wider extension of reading and writing ajnongst the poorer classes,^-was
commenced at Gloucester, by a gentleman of the name of Raikes, who founded Sun
day schools. His plan was seen to be good, and likely to spread. " Oh," gav the
aristocracy, " we must take care of this; we must have this iu our owp bauds."
They immediately set to work to subscribe, and tbej' gpt up their tracts, and schools,
and set the reverend- gentlemen of the parish to work. Mr. Rajke^ was not to haye
aiiy hand in them, tobe sure; they vyere to have them all to themselves, and tbey
were to be under the exclusive superintendence of the reverend gentleraen of the
parish. It was easy to see vvhat sort of education tbey intended for them. I remember the
bundles of tracts and things they sent forth, for reading in thp schools, and among
the people : tbe tendency of the whole of them vvas to teach the poor — the sjarvin"-
men — that they should be content with their state of poverty and starvation. (Much
cheering.) One tract I remeraber, in particular : It was called, " The Starving Tai
lor." (Great laughter.) And he was so favoured by Providence that he really ex
isted upou fourpence, or fivepencp a week. And this, was the tenor of the whple of
them, their object being to induce tbe people tp be content with starvation. (Cheers.)
" Ah, well," they said, '^ it is God's work ; the more you suffer in this world, the
better off you will he in the next." (Great laughter.) Aye, they can cheat us no
longer — ?' The more you suffer in this world, tbe more you will enjoy in the next !"
And if the poor wretched people complained, they said, " Oh, don't complain ; it's
sinful to complain ; it's the infliction of God's providence." Yes, and when thousands
of people were, even last winter, living upou twopence-halfpenny a day — which was
clearly proved — a preacher vvho was set up in a tub, told them, that it was God's
work, and that the infliction vvas a very good thing for them I (Loud cries of shame,
shame.) All this while, however, they have not set us the example themselves.
Certainly they must wish to go to heaven themselves, when tbey die, and if these be
such fitting means to get there, why do they not themselves adopt them ? (Cheers.)
Ou the contrary, tbe big rector, while ready to burst with his dinner — ready to .be
choked with his high living, goes up into the pulpit and preaches patience and sub
mission to the poor creatures wbo are starving. This, gentlemen, is all insincerity
and hypocrisy. It is impiety and blaspjiemy ; for what are the things which God
promises to obedient and virtuous people ? A land flowing vyith milk and honey ; a
rich country, and abundance of all necessary things. But to wickedness, on the con
trary, what does he threaten ? What does he say when he would defer men frora
wickedness  from gluttony, and drunkenness, and intemperance of all Jdnds ? That
they shall be reduced to poverty. This is one ofthe greatest punishments threatened
to idle and wicked people. The wicked fellow's children shall beg their bread ; but
thehonest man's children are never tp see ,v«^nt. These are Gpd's promises; and

they libel the Almighty, and blaspheme him when they say tp the contrary. Theyare
the greatest blasphemers, for the worst of purposes; to make the people subrait to
the worst of miseries, in order that they raay wallow in wealth.
But to come raore to the point, as to what they have done to teach the people
to read. 'Fhey had Sunday-schools first, in the way, and for tbe purposes,
I have stated. After a little tirae, Lancaster came, with the most benevolent
purposes, aud seconded by the dissenters and others, he set up schools for
teaching the poor, which were called Lancasterian schools. Did the aristocracy
subscribe to these? Did they encourage them? No; but immediately they en
deavoured to put them down by opposition schools, which they called Bell's,
or National schools. They saw they could put them down by no other means.
They could not say they were seditious ; and they could not pass a law to tax them,
that would have been too odious ; and therefore they set up opposition schools,
and by way of inducement to poor people to send their children to thera, they
gave thera some little clothing ; and these schools were all put under the care
of the parsons, as I have before stated. These facts are notorious. If they have
built national schools — by subscription, which only leaves part of the expense to be
defrayed by thera — they have done it for the worst of purposes ; to keep the light
frora the people, in place of pouring it into their minds. Above all things they have
deprecated political discussion. But why do we want more than their laws ? Their
subscriptions, and talkings — what tbey have gabbled of at Bible meetings, and tract
meetings, and prayer-book meetings, is all nothing ; but the laws they bave passed,
the whole tenor of which has been to prevent the common people from getting the
means of political instruction, are the things by which we should judge them.
(Cheers.) Forty years ago, tbey found newspapers with a duty of a penny or three-
half-pence upon them ; now they have carried it up to four-pence. But look to their
conduct with regard to other publications. Violence, prosecutions, bonds, all sorts
of things, haye been resorted to, to suppress them. But the memorable thing was
in 1819. It was this ; to make every man, putting forth a political publication
oftener than once a month — and they knew well that no effect could be produced
unless it were oftener — that any man putting forth a political publication oftener
than once a month, raust print it upon a stamp, and also enter into heavy bonds,
himself in 300/., and two sureties in 300/. each, towards any penalties for offences
which he might thereafter commit. That was providing punishraent before he be
gan business. They knew well that it required a man of some property to get bonds
men to be held in this way, and thus a poor man — though a poor mau might be a
very fit person to conduct a paper — to give information to others— was effectually
prevented frora publishing any-thing of a political nature. By this means they cut
off a great number of persons vvho had previously conducted cheap publications.
But their grand stroke was this : at the time tbey passed that law, I published ray
Register, once a week, at two-pence, a price at which a poor raan could procure it,
and I sold 50,000 a week. They knew this, and therefore they passed an act, de
claring that cheap publications were mischievous (at the sarae time they were pub
lishing their own tracts and giving thera away). "Aye, but then these cheap
publications were seditious." Well, then, let some one answer them ; let the press
be open to all, and by this raeans the public would gain inforraation, and get at the
truth. " Aye, but they had a tendency to injure the morals of the people." Well
then, there was the Attorney-General to prosecute them. The fact is, if they
had passed such an act as this, " Whereas, it is injurious tP us, who are taking

9
millions out of the people's pockets, and putting them iuto our own, that Cobbett
should publish a two-penny paraphlet, be it enacted that he shall do sp no longer ;"
I say, had they passed an act couched in these words, it would have truly set forth
their intention. (Cheers.) Then, in addition to imposing this duty upon political
pamphlets, they prohibited them to be read in mess rooms of tbe army, and ships of
war. Did they want knowledge to be spread abroad, tben ? Is it not all hypocrisy ?
Have they not done every-thing to prevent the people frora obtaining the raost
necessary of all knowledge? if they deny this, by affirming that the most neces
sary knowledge is that relating lo religion,! say, that it is the duty of their
parsons to teach tbem that. For what do they have tithes, and dues, and offerings,
and so forth, but for teaching the people ? If they cannot teach tbem, then we may
as well have no parsons and save the expenses; (Applause.) The Bishop of Win
chester told his people the other day, to get the tracts published by the Christian
Knowledge Society, I think they call it, for they were very useful, but he should
have told the parsons to inculcate theraselves the same doctrines, for that vvas the
business for which they received their pay. (Cheers.) It is clear, 1 repeat it, that
the aristocracy have done nothing to instruct the people: if they have obtained
knowledge, it has been against their will, because they knew that it was against
their interest. So that my Lprd Wilton had much better held his tongue, and not
complained of the people.
Nevertheless, it is very certain tbat what he said is true. As far as I have been
able to carry my voice, or send the effusions of my pen, 1 have neglected nothino- to
make the people discontented with the aristocracy. If they do love them still, all! can
say is, that the fault is not mine. (Laughter aud cheers.) Yes, it is very certain
that they do dislike them; that this dislike is general, and as to discriminatin"-
thatis very difticult. Besides, have we seeu one among them who has come forward
on this occasion and joined the people in praising the French > Many of you know
how they came forward to call upon us to subscribe, and how they sent the parish
officers round from door to door to get subscriptions, for the German fellows who
fought against the French when the object was to put them down by foreign
bayonets ; and how loudly, in particular, the parsons called upon us for these loyal
German sufferers. Yet all the merit of all the nations of the continent put together
never equalled a thousandth part of the merit of the people of Paris. But the
aristocracy say not a word. I know there are other persons besides them — besides
the Lords — wbo have been as rauch opposed in feeling to the people in this raatter
as the Lords themselves. Yes, persons in authority in cities aud towns have partaken
of this feeling. Thatis very unaccountable, sorae may think. How can the Lord
Mayor of London, for instance, a mau who has got his money by his industry, by
the public ledger, how can he have any aristocratical feeling? How can Alderraan
Waithman dislike this affair iu France ? There are the Borougbreeves of Manchester,
.ind the Mayor of Liverpool, too, they are just the sarae. But these are not lords.
No, they are not lords of tbe Upper House ; they are not that ; but they have an
interest which is very closely connected with that of these lords. If vve examine
into the statement of the affairs of the city of London, we shall see how many thou
sands that corporation squanders which ought to go to the widows and orphans. If
we examine into the jobs— the paving of streets, the pulling down of churches and
putting thera up again, without rhyme or reason ; if, in fact, we look into any part
of the accounts of any corporatipn, we shall find quite sufficieut mntives for lord
mayors and aldermen disliking the French revolutipn. They see that it tends to

10
reform, that is clear ; they see that the troops having refused to fire, that the work-
ing people having come out and done the thing at once ; they see that this must lead
in the end to produce reform here; and if these stupid boroughmongers have only
one grain of sense- many in their skulls they have not, God knows — if they have
only one grain of sense, they must see that if there were a reformed, parliament this
sort of corruption as well as all other, would be put an end to in an instant. Like the
rooks and the crows, they smell the powder. Take a gun, loaded with powder, into a
field, if there be ro<iks sitting in the middle of it, though they should be a quarter
ofa mile off, they will smell the powder. Theyare not more sagacious, howeyer>
than these gentry as to the effects of parliamentary reform. (Cheers.) i am never
to be made lo believe tbat a reformed parliaraent would for one raonth suffer a lord
mayor to spend 10,000/. a year of the people's money ; and 600/. for a water party to
Oxford, while so many widows and orphans were almost starving. We all recollect
that on one occasion the corporation of London gave a dinner to the tyrant kings, the
European despots, for having forced the Bourbons again on France ; and that the
expenses of that dinner to the people were 2f),fl00/. Yes, that was the cost of the
dinner given to these fellows, and that while widows and orphans wanted bread,
and while the bill of tbe baker for Newgate vvas unpaid. (Cheers.) They know that
a reformed parliaraent would restrain them from wasting the people's money in this
way, and therefore they are against a reformed parliament ; therefore they dislike the
French revolution ; therefore they vvill not call meetings to encourage an expression
of gratitude to the French. 1 am happy to be able to make one exception, and that
is iu the town of Nottingham, where the mayor, Mr. Oldknow, not only assented lo
the request ofthe people to call a public meeting, but himself jiresided in that meet
ing in the town-hall, and signed the address which has been sent over to Paris by
a deputation, with the sum of 200/. thatwas collected for the sufferers. (Great ap
plause.) How little wisdom had the Lord Mayor of London ! If he wished to retain
his ofiice, or that his office should be retained quietly; if the aldermen wished that
their aldermanships should remain quietly ; if they wished to avoid the people's anser
aud its consequences, their way was to call a meeting, and not set themselves in
opposition to the people ; not to let. their motives creep out. They spoke some time
ago about a sort of reform, but can tbey believe— do they believe— even the borough
mongers — can the stupidest of them believe — and God Alraighty knows that they
are stupid enough — can they believe that we are going to be cozened and cheated
by my Lord John Russell's reform ? By the nice little man, vvith his nice little
plan? Do they believe this? Do they iraagine this? No, they do not; they
cannot. (Cheers.)
Gentlemen, there is one thing of which I bave been informed this evening, that"
is worth mentioning. In Clerkenwell, at this moment, processes are issued
against 700 persons for default, in not paying their poor rates. What must be the
state of England when we have come to this ? Seven hundred persons ! They will
have something each, at any rate, to pay a lawyer : aud suppose they were to enforce
the law rigorously, to-morrow tnoniing, there would be the goods of 700 persons sold.
Will this go on long ? Recollect what tbey were piepariug to do in France. Oue of
the immediate causes of tbe revolution in France was the Brittany Association.
They savy that tbe Bourbons were going to deprive them of representatiou ; that
they were going to give them rotten boroughs : and Brittany, which was formerly a
large province, but which is now broken iuto two or three departments, formed au
association to raise money to indemnify one another for anynthiug they might suffer

11
for not paying the taxes which should be demanded of them. Theywere regularly
organized for the purpose, and this was one of the first things towards the revolu
tion. Suppose that a county of England, Suffolk, lor exaraple, were to form such a
confederacy, and that Bury St. Edraunds — and I don't know a better place — were
to be the place where the deputies frora the different hundreds were to meet.
These deputies would collect the money, and manage the concern. As soon as
any one was called upon for taxes — direct taxes — tbey would say, "There,
you suffer, don't resist the law by physicar force ; appeal, push the thing off
as far as you can; go into the Exchequer; try the law to the utmost, but do
not pay ; and we'll indemnify you for your loss." This would have tormented
Polignac exceedingly ; it would torment the French or any other government. It
would produce everlasting discussion about the subject ; every neighbour would be
interested in the seizure of another's goods, and the thing could never go on. This
vvas the real beginning of the thing in France. And can you believe, or can the
borougbmongers, stupid as they are, believe, that there will be a seizure of the goods
of hundreds of people, and not be any complaint ? Can any-body believe tbat they
vvill endure this for any length of tirae ? (Loud cries of No,.no ; wo won't.) Gen-
tlemeu, tbe Duke of Wellington is not fool enough to believe this; and therefore
1 am of opinion tbat he vvill propose to do something. But we are told by some, that
vve shall continue to endure it, and tbat vve are capable of enduring it for any length
nf tirae. Gentleraen, this is a very serious matter, aud deserves our attention. It
seems that those wbo are going to oppose the Duke, toolh and nail, are to be led on
by Huskisson. Now this man made a speech last session, and being determined
that it should be known that he did so make a speech, he published it bimself. Well,
he said in this speech, and it is well worthy of notice, he said, after remarking on
the distresses suffered by the industrious classes, " It must be confessed, that after
so long and glorious a war, tbe people of the present age raust be content to bear
these burdens." So that you see, there is au age of suffering, of bearing these bur
dens, yet to come. Well, then, I think I ought lo thank God for being old. (Laugh
ter.) Aye, it 's no joke, for the sooner one is done witb it the better. However,
there are some young men wbo bave yet an age to live, and can you believe that a
single young man will continue to endure this, and make no resistance ? (Immense
applause.) The young men who endure this, vvill be content to continue paying
Huskisson his pension ; that they bave already been paying for thirty-two years ;
yes, and in case he should die, bis wife has a nice little pension of 600/. a year
settled upon her. Aye, gentlemen, be has been receiving 1,200/. a year for thirty-
two years, and now he bas a pension of more than 3,000/. a year ; so that altogether,
in pensions and salaries, he has received more than 100,000/. of the public money.
And yet this man has tbe impudence to publish a pamphlet, in which be says vve
mu^t be content to endure our sufferings for an age to come. Well, then, 1 say, that
vve ought to petition, and remonstrate, and make use of every legal means to get rid
of bis pension araong tbe rest (cheers) ;'and there is no possibility of getting rid of
it without a reforra in the parliament — that is impossible. (Renewed cheers.) I
say a^ain, then, that we ought to do what we can, not only to sign ourselves, buf to
get others to sign the petition ; and then my belief is, that we shall really do some-
thin"- at last, and tbat without any clubs or societies, to expose ourselves to their
fangs. The boroughraongers are rauch alarmed. They are always talkative and noisy
when bold ; they are very silent npw, and therefpre much alarmed. At ihe beginning

12
of the French revolution in 1793, this was their language— their precise language:
" If we do not go to war, and put down this thing, where they have abolished tithes
and nobility, the same thing must come here, there must be a reforra in England.'
For at that time the people were crying out pretty loudly for reforra. "We must give
this," Ihey said, " with all its consequences, unless we putdown this thing, and force
the Bourbons back again. If vve do this, then we cau say, in reply to their clamour ,
ior reform, ' Why, look at France, they tried the thing, found it would not do, and
have been compelled to return lo their old system.' " (Laughter.) This is really and
truly what they said. Some of their friends said, " But suppose you fail; suppose
you are not able to put back the Bourbons." " That," replied they, " is uo argu
raent against trying. If vve do not try, we are sure of losing our boroughs ; if we do
try, we may lose them still ; but we are sure to lose them if we do not try." Now,
every well-informed mau of my age knows tbat this was really the fact. And what
do they say now, then ? Why not try now to put it down ? Philip I. is as much au
usurper as old Cromwell vvas — just as much ; why not try to put him down, then?
Oh, they embrace this usurper; he's a very good sort of raan; Talleyrand is an ex
cellent sort of man ; oh yes, they bave embraced this state of things, and not tried
at all to put it down. The reason is, genllemeu, that they have no money to try
with. (Laughter and cheers.) Austria and Prussia would try, too, but without En
glish money there is no trying. Now, what is tlieir state, then ? It is this, and I wish
every one of them were here — though I should not much like to be in such company.
(Laughter.) 1 think rayself much more honoured in addressing the audience that is
here — but 1 wish they were somewhere that they could bear me; their state is this,
and they will find vthat 1 say to come to pass astruly asif it were written in tbe book of
fale, or delivered as a sentence in a court of justice : — If ihey do not try, ifthey do uot
try lo prevent a rcfonii iu parliainenl, aud try in earnest, too, they will to a certainty
lose tbeir boroughs, their pensions, and their sinecures ; if tbey do try, they will to a
certainty lose their boroughs, their pensions, and their sinecures, and be stripped of
every-thing else, so that ihey will be as naked as robins half au hour from their shell.
(Immense applause.) Let them nurse themselves vyiih the belief, that ifthey go on
to the last, and compel us to snatch at reform — let them believe, if they can, that
tbey are going to come off with the mere loss of their boroughs, their pensions, and
their sinecures. Let tl-iem believe that if they can. They don't believe it, and there.
fore, as the old woraen say, they are in a great quandary. (Great laughter.) They
don't know very well what to do. Tbey are afraid to be civil, lest we should push
on, yet they are afraid to advance. One or other, however, they must do. They
vvill try to cheat us by Lord John Russell's scheme ; all we have to do is to be on our
guard against deceivers, to look upon every man who professes himself to be a re
former, and yet objects to the ballot, as a traitor — and if vve do this they will not de
fraud us a second time. (Long-continued applause.)

*,* Mr. Cobbett's First Lecture, price Two-pence — and his Second, Third, and
Fourth Lecture, price Three-pence, may be had of all booksellers.
t4.t The friends of liberty are requested [for obvious reasons) to aid the circulation
of these cheap publications, hy introducing them wherever- opportunity offers.

I.IBBB.T'Sr OF TUB FB,BSS ASSBRTBD

On Saturday, October 9, will be published, on a sheet of paper, double the size
of Cobbett's Register, folded into a pamphlet, aud containing 32 closely-
printed pages, in double columns, price Four-Pence,
A POLITICAL LETTER,
ADDnlSSED TO
A FRIEND or an ENEMY, (as events may suggest,)

CONTAINING

A COMPREHENSIVE DIGEST, OF
ALL THE PUBLIC EVENTS
AND PASSING
OCCURRENCES OF THE DAY,
Both Foreign and Domestic,
ACCOMPANIED WITH
ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS AND COMMENTS.

PRAY READ VVHAT FOLLOWS !
It is unnecessary to inform the British Public, that among other results of tbe late
wars with America and France, waged by the English Aristocracy, forthe purpo.se of
re])ressing the rising liberties ofthe world, is to be enumerated that measure which
has (or so long a period deprived the people of political knowledge, by the imposition
of a heavy tax upon every newspaper, more than one-half tbe selling price of which
is paid, before publication, into his Majesty's treasury. The Act of 38 Geo. iii. c. 7B
(1798), imposes upon each newspaper printed in England or Scotland, a duty of four-
pence to the king; and lurther requires the proprietors, under very heavy penalties,
to enter into certain sureties and recognizances ; — but with tbese niost oppressive and
unjust requirements it is unnecessary that we should now trouble the reader, uther
and more fitting opportunities for this will present themselves, and we shall then
not fail to express ourselves fully and freely upou the subject.
The act to which we have referred, did not, however, totally deprive the people of
the means of acquiring political knowledge, or of opportunities to obtain an insight
into the proceedings of the administrations under which they lived- Political
pamphlets could still be published, and were published, not without effect, down to
the year 1820. In the course ofthis year, the late Lord Castlereagh, of blessed rae
mory, introduced his far-famed SIX ACTS, one of which was levelled at the aforesaid
political pamphlets, and was intended by the liberal administration of vvhich the no-

14
ble lord was so bright an ornament, to shut out frora the people the partial light
they had retained, aud plunge them into utter darkness, as to tbe proceedings of those
who were placed at the helm of public affairs.
This Act provides that "a// pamphlets and papers, containing awy public news,
, intelligence, or occurrences, or any remarks or observations thereon, or upon any
matter in Church or State, printed in any part ofthe United Kingdora for sale, and
published periodically, or iu parts, or numbers, at intervals of time not exceeding
twenty-six days, shall be deemed and taken to be newspapers, within the true intent
and meaning of the Act of 38 Geo. iii. t. 78."
By this Act, the Castlereagh Administration purposed the suppression of every
publication vvhich was designed to bring before the public the political occurrences
ofthe times, or lo expose the tendency of the political measures ofthe Government.
" The gone-by Government to which we owe this monument of shame, was," as the
Westminster Revieweis justly observe, " the enemy of information, because the
extension of information was its deadliest foe. It was a Government whose pro
ceedings would have been impracticable, under a state of public information ; and,
consequently, its first interest was to do all that might retard those advances which
it could not totally prevent  One administration, in 1797, imposes a stamp
duty on newspapers, because they let in too much light upon the public; and
another, in 181rf, enacts, for the same reason, that pamphlets and printed papers
shall be newspapers."
There is a very important error in tbe last member of this sentence, as the reader
vvill shortly perceive, but we have quoted the passage from this able and honest
and patriotic work, because it properly characterises the motives whence the restric
tions on the English press have emanated. One thing, however, is certaiu ; namely,
that tbe sapient statesmen from whom the act of 1820 proceeded, exulted in the
supposed consummation of their object, when the assent of Parliament and the
Crown was given to their measure. Upon the creation of the law, eyery political
pamphlet disappeared, with the exception of Cobbett's Register, and to the previous
cost of this was added four-pence, which patsed into the coffers of the state.
It is unnecessary bere to dwell upon tbe consequences ofthis measure; — theywere
just what were anticipated and intended by its projectors, and are lo be found
existing in the degraded, the prostrate, and the spiritless condition of the people,
under an accumulation of privations and moral and physical evils never before
existing in the country, and whieh could not have been thus protracted had not the
ireedoin ofthe press beeu destroyed.
But now for our remedy ! How lias it happened that the blunders and short
sightedness of the Castlereagh law-makers have never yet been discovered ? How
is it that the people of England, against whose jiolitical rights the infamous Act of
1820 was levelled, have hitherto failed to perceive, that noiwithstauding the anxiety,
and the care, and the skill of Attorneys and Solicitors Geneial, and the whole
phalanx of Treasury Lawyers and Legislators, that Act is after all so lame and im
perfect as to be wholly inadequate to restrain the publication of such works as may
supply all tbe political inforniatiou that may be desired !
Is uot this a discovery of immense importance lo thepublic; and is there a man
in the three kingdoms who will refuse us his assistance, in our determination to bring
the question to an issue ? If we succeed— of which it i.s impossible to entertain a
doubt — we shall be entitled to the credit not only of evading  fairly evadin'^  one of
the mostunjust fiscal extortions ever known, but also of breaking up the^injurious
monopoly of the Newspaper Press. As tbe law is now permitted to operate, it is per
sons with enormous capitals only who can become directors of tbe public mind upon
subjects of a political character. The evils of this are too apparent to require enu
meration, nor would the liraits of a prospectus perrait of it, were such an enumeration
desirable.— We pass on, therefore, to that which more immediately concerns us in
this appeal to the public.
The Act of 1798 prohibits, as we have already stated, the publication of a news
paper, except upon tbe payment to the Crown of a duty a{ fourpence upon each nura
ber, and of three shillings and sixpence upon each advertisement, and a corapliance

15
*ith a number of other vexatious and expensive conditions. The subsequent Act of
1820 extends the like imposition upon all pamphlets, containing news, intelligence,
occurrence's, &t. published periodically, or in parts or numbers, within certain inter
vals of time. But beyoud this it does not proceed. Periodical political pamphlets
mly are prohibited ; and for the publication of these, only, can the Castlereagh Act
visit vyith punishmeut !
This, then, is the discovery vve have made; and we purpose, with the aid of the
public, to act upon it. On the evening of Saturday, Oct. 9th, vve design to publish a
tETTER, addressed either to one of cur cousins in the country, or to one of our states
men iu town, in which vve will give as full and comprehensive an abstract of public
occurrences in every part of the world as is to be found in any weekly newspaper ;
accompanied with such comments, strictures, or other remarks, as the nature of the
case may require. This we will follow each week by a somewhat similar, but totally
distinct, publication. Long experience, acquired in conducting one of the most
popular newspapers of the metropolis, will enable us lo bring facilities possessed by
ievv, to our new undertaking, and afford a guarantee of its respectability.
It is scarcely necessary, after what we have said, to make any declaration of our
piilitical principles. We will add, however, that we are desirous to identify our
selves with no party, but that of the people. Every public measure, the design of
vvhich is to advance the public good, whether adequate to its purposes or otherwise,
will command our respectful consideration, emanate from whom it may. Measures
rather than men will be the objects of our inquisition ; argument and not abuse, the
power which vve will exercise. An intimate knowledge of the accumulated griev
ances under which the whole of tbe productive interests suffer, will induce us to bail
with pleasure the most liraited concession to their demands, without iu the slightest
degree abating our ardour in pursuit of the whole of those ameliorations which
justice requires. In a word, while we shall give our unqualified approbation to
every pi-oposed reform of legislature, commercial, local, or judicial abuse, as so
many mitigations of the aggregate evil, — we will never rest satisfied till vve shall
bave seen the source whence it all proceeds entirely broken up, by such a reform in
the Commons House of Parliament as shall restore to the whole people that share in
the gbvernment which is guaranteed to them by the constitution, but of which they
have been defrauded by a corrupt and overgrown aristocracy.
%* We beg it may be distinctly understood, tbat this pamphlet will not be a
periodicnl work ; every letter will be complete in itself, having no kind of con
nection witb those Letters which precede or follow it. Such a connection would
bring us under the operation of Lord Castlereagh's Act, and subject us to the
felicitous consequences of an exchequer process.
¦f4-+ Advertisements will be inserted on the usual terms ; and as our circulation
will be extensive in proportion to the comparatively low price of the work, it offers
pecuhar advantages to advertisers. Office, 1, Bouverie-street, Fleet-street.

16
Publishing in numbers, neatly printed in 18mp., embellished with engravings,
(to be continued weekly,) price Two-pence,
ANECDOTES GF THE SECOND FRENCH REVOLUTION:
Embracing Details ofthe Leading Occurrences in Paris ; with Biographical Sketches
of the principal actors ; derived from authentic sources.
¦»,* The public are cautioned against confounding- this work with "Annals of
tbe French Revolution." This is not a raere collection of scraps from the news
papers, which are in every person's hands, thrown together without order or arrange
ment, but a well-digested and detailed Historical Sketch of French Affairs and
Occurrences, from the formation of the Polignac Cabinet, to the consolidation of
the New Government ; with Biographicdl Notices of the principal persons connected
with the events ofthe recent Revolution.
" I am not going to give you a bistory, or narrative, of the recent transactions in
France, you vvill find that done in a little work published in London, at Strange's
Publication Warehouse, iu Paternoster-row. These nurabers are published weekly,
price two-pence, and are very well worthy of your attention." — Mr. Cobbett's Two-
JPenny Trash, No. 3.
" This little work possesses the rare raerit of containing more than its title-page
would lead us to expect. It promises anecdotes, and gives us a history, written too
with special reference to the people of England, and the lessons to them which are
derivable from it." — Weekly Free Press.
"Tbe work will forra a most valuable addition to the poor man's library." — Co
operative Miscellaiiy, Sept.
" This is, without exception, the neatest, most elegant, and one of the best-written
and cheapest publications vve have raet with." — Reformers' Register, Sept.
THE CO-OPERATIVE MISCELLANY. (Price fourpence monthly.)
"This publication raight be appropriately styled, ' The Workman's Friend,' — every
body should read it."
The QUARTERLY REPORTS of the British Association for Pro-
moling Co-operative Knowledge. Nos. 2, 3, and 4, twopence each. N.B. Persons
inquiring ' What is Co-operation? ' should read these Reports.
Mr. OWEN'S SUNDAY MORNING LECTURES, (Weekly, price
threepence,) on an entire New State of Society ; comprehending an Analysis of
British Society relative to the Production and Distribution of Wealth ; tbe Forma
tion of Character ; and Governraent, Domestic and Foreign. Nos. 1 to 9 now ready.
Price 3d., printed uniformly vvith Mr. Owen's Lectures.
An EXAMINATION OF MR. OWEN'S DOCTRINES OF HUMAN
RESPONSIBILITY, and the Influence of Circumstances in the Forraation of
Character. All the Co-operative Publications supplied.
EVERY MAN HIS OWN BREWER ; or the Art of Brewing
clearly explained ; with an Abstract of tbe New Act for regulating the Sale of Beer.
Price threepence.
AN ABSTRACT of the Act to Consolidate and Amend the Laws re
lating lo Friendly Societies. Price twopence.
THE ARTICLE on RADICAL REFORM, reprinted from the West-
minster Review ; price Two-pence.
APPEAL of The METR0POLiTA>f Political Union, to the People
of England; price One Penny ; or 4s. 6d. per hundred for distribution.
London: Strange, 21 , Paternoster Row ; Chappell, Royal Exchange; Cowie, 18,
Goswell Road; Purkess, 61, Wardour Street; Mann, Leeds; Wroe, Manchester;
Marshall, Nev('Castle-on-Tyne ; and all Booksellers.

Printed bj Mills, Jowett, and Mills, Bolt court, Fleet-stveet.

A SIXTH
LECTURE ox THE
FRENCH R E V O L U T 1.0 N,
AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING •
B"Sr WII.Z.ZAM COBBETT,
Delivered in- the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge, on
Monday, Sept. 20th. '¦'.

Gentlemen, Since the last evening on which we were assembled in this theatre, I have seen in
the nevyspapers, and most of you too must have seen it, an account of a magistrate
at Union Hall (bursts of laughter), who having a man brought before him for
haviiig Insulted a Serjeant of police, and being tbld by this man, by way of apology,
that he was. drunk, lie asked where he had been previously, and was answered by
the man, that he had been to this place, to hear Mr. Cobbett's Lecture.; Gentlemen,
I am sure every one who knows. any-ttiiUg bf me or my performances, will know
that this man did not learn from me to get drunk, either by precept or example.
(Clieers.) However, tbe magistrate haviiig beard the sound of the words Cobbett
and botuuda fgreat laughter), took occasion to say, "That Rotunda was a great
nuisance at tbe time when there were theatrical exhibitions in it, but it vvas a much
greater nuisance now ; and that these seditious lectures ought to be put down by the
parish authorities, since they took many of the people away from their business, and
look money out of their pockets for admission, which was altogether illegal."
Gentlemen, fhe insolence of this man is great enough; the insolence, that he
should dare to speak thus of me — and, by-theby, he called those who came here
rabble.— Rabble ! — Gentlemen, the insolence of this man, supposing that he kept hira
self, that be eal-hed tbe money upon which he lives, is bad enough, but when it is
considered that he has a thumping salary, paid out of our labour, then it is some
thing beyond insolence; it is ingratitude, audi audacity added to it. (Cheers;) Then,
the ignorance of tbe fellow (greaflaugbter),— the ignorance of thefellow! Why,
all the raagistrates— the parson magistrates — in twenty counties through which I
have'been lecturing', know nothing ofthe laW compared vvith this man ! He knows
more of tbe law than' all tbe judges, and sheriffs, and magistrates in twenty counties,
to be- Sure ! They could overiook the lectures vvhich I delivered— and he, too, could
overlook the lectures at the Mechanics' Institute, and only manage tP iind out, that
[Strange, 21, Paternosier-row .—Price Three-pence ]

to lecture at this particular place, and take raoney at the dopr were lUega ! Gentle-
raen, there was such a law sorae time ago ; there is such a law no longer (applause);
and we are paying SOOZ. a year to a man who calls himself a raagistrate-to a man
who is dignifiedwith the name of a raagistrate-who does not know wha the lawis.
(Applause.) But, let me offer a word of observation upon that law for though the
law is dead some of those who passed it are alive. Gentleraen that aw was passed
expressly and avowedly to prevent the coramon people, the working classes-to pre
vent those who by their labour clothe and feed us, from acquiring knowledge.
Plunkett, who is now a judge in Ireland-and I thank God he is not a judge ,n Eng
land (laughter) -Plunkett said in the debate on that bill, that it was necessary to
pass such a raeasure, for that the coraraon people were rauch more behind the cur
tain than they used tobe, and more than they ought to be novv. Gentlemen, tha
corroborates the opinion of Lord Wilton, to be sure, that the aristocracy had caused
the lower orders, as they call them, to be taught. (Cheers.) Well, ¦that law was to
prevent this. Oh, they raight go, but they raust not pay raoney for going ! Oh,
no, to take money was an act of baseness ; to take even two-pence was an act of
baseness, particulariy if the person lecturing meant to appropnate it to himself. To
be sure, surgeons and physicians might take inoUey far adthission to their lectures ;
that was no degradation, no act of baseness. That was quite proper. Parsons, too,
receive a little money for their lectures (great laughter) ; if tbey do not receive it in
meal, tbey do in malt. " Ob, but what a shame for a man to take raoney, even a
penny, out of a poor man's pocket, to Wake a speech about politics." Aye, gentle
men, there 's the harm. (Great laughter.) Lawyers, every-body knows their disin
terestedness ; they always speak without being paid for it; they receive no raoney
for their barking and bellowing ! Gentlemen, you can see, in a moment, the drift
of the thing. They knew that it was generally irapossible for a man who desired to
instruct the people, to do so, and bear the expense too. They knew that most men
who have much in their heads have little in their pockets ; aud therefore, that they
could not give their time and their money also. No, gentlemen, it is enough for a
person who wishes to communicate what he knows to others, to give his time, that
is his full share ; and it is, in general, as much as he can give. " Oh," said they,
then, " let us protect the common people frora extortion by these men — these artful,
wicked, designing men." Yes, this was said by the raen who are taking fourpence-
ihalfpenny out of every sixpence we pay for beer. (Applause.)
Gentlemen, dismissing this matter, leaving the magistrate to receive the applauses
¦of those who are disposed to applaud hira, we will corae to our own proper business
—the petition, which is the great object of all our raeetings here, and which we
mean to get signed, and presented to the King. Gentleraen, I ara told that it has
ibeen represented iu the Times, that 1 exhorted ray audience here, or that I gave it
as ray opinion, that the petition ought to be signed by 20,000 raen, and that the
whole of them ought to carry it to the King with rauskets upon their shoulders.
(iloars of laughter.) You reraember the story about three black crows. Thus has the
fhnes raagnified, or rather hatched the story about the petition being carried to
the King by arraed raen. You vvill recollect that what I said was this, that two or
:threeof us,only, should go to his majesty; that we should avoid every-thing having
the appearance of angry feelings, and particularly of menace ; that we should thus
¦go, and io the most respectful and dutiful manner coraraunicate our wishes, and that
if his majesty were engaged, or it was npt agreeable to him to receive us in person,
that vve should eilher go again, or deliver tbe petition to his secretary to be deli
vered by hira to the King." (Applause.) But in speaking of the persons whom I
wished to sign the petition, I said, none ought to sign but men, or boys above fifteen
¦years of age, for that vvas the criterion of manhood. At fifteen years of age a man,
T remarked, was able to carry a musket, for that 1 did so in defence of George III.,
•wheu I was hardly fifteen years old. Then I remarked, that if a man were able to

carry a musket, and able to employ it, in defence of his country and a good king,
he was a proper person to sign the petition. (Cheers.) This, the Tim°s, as I am
told, has turned into a recommendation, that 20,000 people, armed with rauskets
and bayonets at their points, I suppose, should carry up the petition to the King.
Gentlemen, in every undertaking of this sort, difficulties are created even by the
facilities of the thing. Great nurabers of persons cannot sign this petition without
proper arrangements being made. I bad flattered myself that by this evening I
should be able to communicate to you where the petition would lie for signature, but
this I am still unable to do. At present it only lies iu the cotfee-room here, aud at
my office in Fleet-street, but I shall lose no time in sending a person round to select
such places as may appear to be most convenient for the purpose. Gentlemen, I ara
anxious thatthe petition should be signed by a great nuraber of persons, and I trust
that no raan who considers the interests of his countiy, and what the consequences
ofthis measure may be, will think it too rauch trouble to walk 100 yards to sign it.
If any such man there should be, all I can say is, that he cannot be very anxious to
get rid of taxation or any of the other things of which be complains. (Cheers.)
Gentlemen, every time we meet, if there be not a fresh revolution, there is some
new feature of importance in the aspect of affairs which presents itself to our notice.
We are not to suppose that great thing we wish to see accomplished will be effected
without some other events leading to it, and preparing the way for it. It appears to
me, that all things, in every part of Europe, are uow concurring towards the accora
plishraent of this. (Applause.) Gentleraen, 1 ara sifraid I shall fatigue you, and
yet I would hope J shall uot — (loud cries of No, no,) — iu offering to you a detail of
the view which I take of the situation of Belgium and France, and ofthe effects
which their present situation, and the events occurring there, must necessarily have
upon this couutry. (Cheers.)
The great evil in all countries, and the cause of all these revolutions and riots,
has been the weight of taxation. This too is our own grievance ; fur if our rotten
boroughs would suffer us to live without taxation, as the Americans do, we should
turn a deaf ear to those who railed at them. But, unhappily, they do not. But, for
Belgium and France. The forraer complains of the weight of taxation of one kiiid
or another, but tbeir principal taxes arise from their national debt. Now, this is a
very important raatter, and we shall see, if we look into the cause of these disturb
ances, how it affects us, and how it will operate to our deliverance. (Applause.)
Well, how carae this debt in Belgium ? I'll tell you. Our gentry have some ex
cuse — a very poor one certainly — but they have some excuse for having plunged us
into debt. They pretend that it was for the good of the country ; for our protection
against revolution, anarchy, atheism, and confusion. So they tell us. But in Bel
gium how was it? Observe how it was, aud cease to wonder at the rising of the
Belgians. When it was agreed to by the united despots of Europe to unite Belgiura
to Holland, and give to the country a certain king, they agreed also to treat them to
a national debt. (Laughler.) Their old sovereign, of Germany, bad, previous to 1793,
borrowed large sums of money from certain creditors — no matter who they were —
he had contracted a large debt, and the bargain made by the allies with the new
king was, that bis people should pay the interest of that debt. So the Belgians
were doubly treated ; they got, at the same time, a king and a national debt. Gen-
tletnen, there 's the foundation of the revolution in Belgium. And in France how
stands the case ? And vvhat is the situation of France now ? What may we expect
to see in France .' for be you assured of this, tbat the revolution in France is not
yet half over. It was begun by Polignac's proclamations or ordonnances ; but he
would never have issued thera Had not he and his master seen that the people of
France would never continue to pay the taxe-!. This is the truth of the matter;
they said, " Unless we check this ; unless we destroy the liberty of the press, and
alter the law of elections, vve shall never be able to make the people continue to pay

4
the interest of the debt." And now look at the origin, of this debt. The national
debt of France is yery large ; it is not a trifling raatter, for tbe interest of it amounts
to eleven millions. And how was it contracted ? and for what? The small part of
the French debt which reraained vvhen Buonaparte held the government, was never
contracted for the benefit of the people. It vvas the remnant of what the tyrant
Bourbons had borrowed. However, it was very sraall. By and by they had to put
down Buonaparte, and send hira and his faraily out of France ; and they must, of
course, pension thera all for life. There were his mother, and his sisters, and bro
thers, must have large sums of money, which were to be paid by the people of France.
Gentlemen, where vvas tbe reasou of this ? Either Buonaparte was a tyrant or he
was not. He was either good or bad. If good, why drive hira away ? If bad, why
saddle the people of France with a debt to raaintain him and his family ? (Applause.)
More recently we have seen another tyrant king driven away, and we have him here,
¦' Ob, he was a bad king I A horrible tyrant 1 Unworthy to reign ! Oh, the shock
ing, raonstrous fellow, how be slaughtered the people ! Oh the sanguinary wretch,
he paid the blackguard Swiss to shoot and cut to pieces the defenceless women and
children! Oh raonstrous, execrable king, this!" (Laughter.) Gentlemen, they
have given to this tyrant king a pensiou of 140,000^. a year for life. Yes, that tyrant
is to be paid this by the French people ; and then his heir after him is to have it,
and so on. Gentlemen, is there any justice in that? Is it reasonable ? Asl said
of Buonaparte, either this king was a sanguinary tyrant, or he was not. He was
either a good king or a bad one. If be were a good one, why drive him away ? If a
bad one, how dare tbey tp take the money out of the labourers' pockets in France to
give to bim ? (Applause.) But one great source of their debt was this. During the
revolutionary war, carried on by the French for 22 years, for the purpose of estab
lishing their liberties, the Bourbons, in foreign countries, were warring against
them as much as they had the courage to do. The nobility who had been driven
from France, went and joined the foreign armies; and vvhen they could do so, they
carae and raade war on their own country. By and by, by tbe force of the money
of England, and 1,011,000 bayonets, the Bourbons were forced back upon the
French. Now, it is not very easy to conceive that the French would like to pay a
debt contracted for this ; to pay a debt contracted for subduing theraselves, for forc
ing upon thera tbat faraily of tyrants who all the world now says should be expelled.
However, this tribute fo rms part of the national debt of France. Another large part
of it arises from the rewards granted to emigrants. Yes, gentlemen, ten millions
of franks were voted to emigrants, as a compensation for having betrayed their
country, and helped to force back upon the people the tyrants who bad been ex
pelled ; for having helped to strip the national museums, and to obliterate every
meraorial of the previous glory of France. For this, immense sums of money were
to be borrowed and given to these emigrants ; and this forms part of the national
Jebt of France, the interest of which they intend shall be paid by the people for ever.
Is there any reason or propriety in that? (Applause.) No, gentlemen, and the*
people of France, be you assured, are not content to continue paying the taxes for
satisfying the interest of a debt contracted for sucb purposes as thes'e. That is the
cause of all you hear about the unsettled state of France; — the uneasiness
that prevails arises out of the disinclination of tbe people to continue paying
the interest of this debt. (Cheers.) ft is of the greatest consequence that
we clearly understand the cause of the present discontents. For, gentlemen,
we he.ir people saying, "There! there's a discontented people; you see tbey have
got all they wanted, and yet tbey are just as clamorous and as discontented as ever.
Aye, It would be exactly the same with the radical reformers here if they
were to obtain what they are raving for!" If we were to procure refo'rm, these
parties, I suppose, would say, " There, now, you bave got reform ; for God's sake be
contented novv; there, pray do now hold your tongues; dpn't let us have any mpre

complaints or clampurs." Yes, gentlemen, but if we were to get reform, and vve
had continued the sarae taxes, and the same pensions, and the same places ¦ the
same lords riding over us in their fine carriages, paid for out of our earnings, ¦vl'hile
we were tugging on as before ; should we not say. What do we get by this^reform >
To be sure we should. We want a reform to take off the taxes, aud for the removal
of many other things which I need not now mention. But in tbe reform here sup
posed, we should find nothing but the name. And, gentlemen, the French are now in
that situation precisely. Whoever knows the character of TaUeyrand, and knows that
he is appointed ambassador to this country, will easily guess at tbe sort of men the
French have now ruling them. They must know from this that the French govern
ment is a hollow thing, and that it cannot last. That is impossible, gentlemen.
When 1 saw tbat tbey called the new King, Tbe King of tbe French, 1 thought it was
a very pretty thing ; but what signifies a name ! What signifies what they call their
king, if be continue to take the same money out of the pockets of the people? What
signifies it, whether tbey call tbeir government a republic or a raonarchy, if theyare
treated the same ? When I saw that pretty play acted at the accession of the new
King; when I saw Philip bringing bis wife, with a child in her arms, at the time he
was receiving the crown- frora those who had no right to give it to him— when he
was so deeply affected as to faint away almost, into whose arms do you suppose that
he fell ? Because there is a great deal in that. Of course he chose, out of all those
by whora he was surrounded, the person into whose arms he should fall. (Laughter.)
And into whose arms do you think that he did fall ? Why, into the arms of the
greatest banker in Fiance. When I saw that, I thought it was a bad sign— a very
bad sign. Gentlemen, he fell into the arms of Lafitte. In a fainting fit, he fell into
Lafitte's arms. (Great laughter.) Wheu I heard of that, I thought it of sorae im
portance ; it seemed to be a very serious piece of business. Well, and uow we hear
ofthe French funds falling at a pretty rate. What ! the funds fall at this rate, and
yet the people so happy ? Gentlemen, the people are not happy ; the people are not
contented. Aud here is the root of the whole — they will not continue to pay the
taxes, which are necessary to raeet the interest of the debt. That's the truth of the
wliole business. We have seen in the French papers — the government papers— you
see every government will have a paper, and more than one, if it bave'money— we
have seen in the French government papers, tbat upon tbe Stock Exchange there
has been much uneasiness and alarm ; but they add, " We are assured that the dis
inclination of the people to pay the taxes has been greatly exaggerated." Gentlemen,
those of you wbo know how the English papers talk in such a case, know also how
to estimate these words. (Cheers). " We are assured that the disinclination of the
people to pay the taxes has been greatly exaggerated, and that since ministers have
put forth their circulars the alarms have been greatly calmed." The truth is, that
the people DO refuse to pay tbe taxes. They have in France a tax which they call
the Droits Re' unis ; it is something like our excise — you see they imitate one ano
ther; oh, yes, they are very fond of imitations, and we are so able at government
that all the others imitate us as much as they can. (Laughter.) — Well, they have this
Droits Re' unis ; and very recently, near Bourges, the excise officer, as vve should
call him, with two collectors, went to collect the taxes. Well, he went to a landlord
who kept a public-house ; and it so happened that there were, at the time, a good
many people in the house drinking. The officer demanded tbe tax, and he got paid
by bottles and glasses thrown at his head. (Laughter.) After a good deal of thump
ing and beating in this way, and finding that no protection could he had from tbe
mayor and municipality, be fled. He knocked at raany doors, but none were
opened : at last one man took him in. The house, however, was nearly pulled down,
and would, I believe, have been quite pulled down, if they had not turned out ; and
when they did turn out, they treated them in such a raanner as will prevent them, I
elieve, in future, from tax-collecting. (Great laughter.) 'Fhat is the state of France-

Some time before the Bourbons were put dpwn, they cashiered the whole of the Na
tional Guard. The National Guard is this. Every citizen, every tradesman, and
every labouring man, if he will, belongs to this body. In short, the National Guard
is, the armed citizens of France. And is it to be believed, that these Guards, who
have to pay the taxes, observe, — is it to be believed that these citizens who have arms
in their hands, will continue to pay 4 Jd. out of every 6d. as taxes ? Can it be believed
that they will consent tp do that ?— (Applause.) 'Fwo years ago tbe government saw
that if they suffered this body of arraed citizens to exist, they would put an end to
the taxing system, and therefore they disbanded it. The National Guard was dis
solved ; it no longer existed. When this revolution took place, it was necessary to
restere the National Guard, and it was restored, all over France. Gentlemen, the
payers of taxes have the arms in their hands once more ; and do you believe that
these men vvill continue to be pressed dovyn by taxes to pay the interest of a debt con
tracted to bring back the Bourbons, and the noblesse who had sacrificed thera ? Tp
bring back those raen who unnaraed the bridge of Jena and Arcol; vvho took away
every vestige of the French victories, and let down France in the eyes of the world ?
Doyoutbink that France will continue to pay taxes to meet tbe interest ofa debt created
for purposes like these ? No, gentlemen ; and this is tbe very thing that is now at
work ; thatis the true reason why they do not dissolve the charaber. Why, the chamber
ought to have been dissolved iraraediately, to be sure. What right had they to
choose a king for the people of France, or to do any one act ? No, they ought to
haye dispersed iraraediately, and the people should have elected another charaber,
having their consent to do these acts. (Applause.) There they now are, sitting
upon their knees, and afraid to go off. They are like the players in Sheridan's
comedy, they know not how to get off the stage. (Laughter.) They say, " If we
once go about our business, we shall never come together in this place again ;" and
therefore they are now going to get renewals of part of thera ; tb purify the old
nest, by letting in some new birds. Gentlemen, if you could believe in the sincerity
of that chamber before, how can you believe in it after the noraination of TaUeyrand
as a minister to this country ? They say the reason for this appointment is, that
Talleyrand will be so very agreeable to the English government. (Laughter.) So
very agreeable to tbe English government ! So much the worse. (Cheers.) So much
the more is the appointment entitled to our suspicions. But, how pleasing or
agreeable to our government ? Oh, you can't think how forgiving they are. " Oh,
TaUeyrand is such a worthy mau ! Aye, and so conciliating ! " Gentleraen, that is
the reason he is appointed. Now, I happen to remember something about this same
Talleyrand and our government. In 1803, TaUeyrand accused our governraent, in
a public dispatch, which is upon record, of having caused tbe murder of the Em
peror Paul ; and of having also hired spies and assassins to kUl Buonaparte. I ara
not saying whether he accused tbem falsely or truly ; that 's no business of raine ;
but it surprises rae, or rather, it excites my admiration, that this Talleyrand and this
government .shpuld now be so wonderfully loving. Oh, tbey are so forgiving!
(Laughter.) Now, we vulgar people, how would sucb a thing act upon us ? If a man
were to accuse meof baviug suborned ruffians to coramita deliberate raurder, of hav
ing hired fellows to go and assassinate a man, aud all this were false, what do you
suppose that I should think of such a viUain ? Why, if I had no power to
punish him— if the law would not reach him— if I could not take vengeance
on bim— do you not think that I should bate him all my life-time ? But our
government loves Talleyrand. Very strange, this ! Not at all ; they love any
body that is not for tbe people of either country.— Any-body. (Applause.) Tal
leyrand was unquestionably nominated at the suggestion of this government,
and this shows tbe connexion between the borougbmongers of England aud the
governraent of France. From this motive- and not from any corrupt motive on
the part ofthe French king and his ministers, though for the latter I would not

swear, 1 am sure ; I would not swear that they do not like the people ; but if they
do, we know some who will desire to teach them another lesson. "This, however, is
the point to keep in view. The two national debts keep the people taxed well to pay
the interest, and therefore they take care to have three or four thousand people de
pendent on the funds, and who raay put a wet blanket upon every-body in their
vortex. In France, the richest banker iu the country, the head of the funding sys
tem, is at the head of the chan)ber of deputies, and that too by a very large niajority ;
and every-where you hear them saying,' " Oh, do not shake public credit ! Take care
ofthe national faith! " Gentleraen, it will be shaken, you raay depend upon it; it
will very spon be brought to an end in France, you may rely upon it. (Cheers.)
And recoUect that the French debt is only a lirab of the old lady herself. (Laughter.)
Take off a limb, and it is quickly felt at the heart. And rely you upon it, that the
alarm which is felt in this country at the large quantities of gold and silver that are
going away is part of this, and must lead to some crisis here. (Renewed cheering.)
Gentlemen, the principle of national debts is so monstrous, that it is astonishing
any portion of meu shpuld subrait to thera in any shape. What is it ? That the
fathers have the right to contract debts, and leave thera to be paid by their children.
This is so against all the principles of natural \ayi, so against all the principles of
justice, and even so opposed to all our notions of law of England, that any raan
would imagine it to be impossible to continue it, If the people had the raaking ofthe
law, would they subrait to tax themselves — for what ? To pay the interest of a debt
contracted by a former generation. Now, suppose a proposition to be raade us here,
to this effect — " Gentleraen, it is very desirable that our children, that is, a future
generation, should have no taxes to pay ; it is therefore proposed that you should
have your taxes doubled, the raoney be collected aud put in a chest, and so appro
priated as to relieve our children frora the payraent of all taxes." What would you
think of that ? .(Laughter.) VVhat would you say to such a proposition ? Is there
a man who would uot be a rebel, rather thau subrait to a law like that ? Aye, eyery
mau would be a rebel. Theu, why should we contract debts to be paid by our
.children ? Or why should our fathers have the power to contract a debt to be paid
by us? Is it not notorious ihat children are not answerable for the debts of their
fathers ? As regards freeholders, the law says, the child shall not pay the debts of
the father ; and the mau knows that, to be sure, before he lends his money. The
law in all ways, in fact, sets itself against this abominable principle. And yet this
is the state in which we and the French are. What right bad the body of men who
began tbe French war tP protect the country, as they said, to hire a pack of foreign
fellows to fight for them ? Why did they not bring out their own carcases 2 What !
were they cowards ? Well, then, they ought to pay the debt which they contracted
on this accouut. (Cheers.) In the case of the French and the Belgians here is this
additional circumstance, that the debts were expressly and avowedly contracted for
pensioning off those wbo had endeavoured to prevent their freedom.
Gentlemen, 1 said before, that if a lirab be wounded, the heart feels it; if we
wound only the great toe, though the distance is so far from the heart, it very soou
reaches that. Let it becorae mortified, and reraain on the body, audit will soon kill
that body. And if the French and the Belgians go on, we shall soon see it reach the
heart of tbat raother of all the raischief that exists in the affairs of the world.
Formerly there were different modes of reducing men to slavery, but in later times
the only means has been national debts. These creep over them by degrees — " Oh,
keep national faith— keep national faith." 'Fhat is, keep on paying the taxes. I
have no objection for those who borrowed the money to pay it. We did not borrow
it; we wbo have had uo representatives, have had no hand in the concern. If that
should become the question, let us leave it to the parties themselves. They who
lend money ought to be satisfied of the abUity of the borrowers to pay tbeir debts.
Who borrowed the money in England, then? Why, the 154 raen, to be sure, wha
returned the members to the House of Commons. They borrowed the raoney, and

if tiiey be able to pay, I have no objectipn to an act to a3.=,i3t the fundholders to get
the m'oney. But they bave no right to come to us. (Cheers.) We were wiUi'ng t6
defend ourselve.-;. We wanted no German troops, or any-body el?e ; we were vvjlhng
to defend ourselves. But Ihey would not let us ; tbey would bring the Germai and
other fellows to defend us. Well, tben, it was their taste, let them' pay the debt which
it incurred. (Cheers.) " Oh they cannot ! " Cannot! Only let the fundholders
present a petition to a reforraed pariiament, sayihg "Your petitioners lent money
to the 154 men who returned the members to this house sp many years agp, and
they pray you to pass a law to make them pay the money." Np soul could object to
tbat, and they would have such a law passed, to be sure. (Applause.) Such a par
liament would say, " Really, it is your own concern ; you were great fools to lend
the money to such people, but since you have done so, vve have passed a law, as far
as their property goes, to compel them to make restitution." (Laughler and cheers.)
Tbat is the way national debts shpuld be paid, gentlemen ; and if they were once
paid so, there would be no raore contracted.
In the mean while, vve are to see how the thing is working on, round to us.
" On the French Exchange," thenewspaperssay— that vvas on the ICth — "there had
been considerable alarm for some days. Yesterday it became perfect stupor— it was
all as if dead. The brokers refused to seU, though their correspondents had so
written tbem, lest they should add to the depression of the funds." Pretty brokers,
these, by the by. We have not yet come to ihat. (Laughter.) Here, a fellow has
got an order to sell out my stock, and he refuses to do so, lest he should add to the
depression of the funds. A very pretty thing truly ! But that cannot last long.
The persons who have written to these brokers vvill go and sell out themselves; and
you vvill see the funds corae down faster and faster. Ihat was the state of the thing
ou the 16th. The stocks had come down frnra 80 to 63, in three weeks. This arises
naturaUy frora the certain knowledge possessed at Paris that tbe people wUl not con
tinue to pay the taxes necessary to discharge tbe interest ofthe debt. Forgive me fPr
repeating this so often, but it is necessary for you to see clearly the cause Of the
inquietude, as they call it, in France ; and by and by you vvill see that the debt will
come to nothing. The Cassimir Perriers, and all the loan-raongers, and jobbers, and
Jews, will be packed off together, and the people will be truly represented. They
may have tbeir present King as chief raagistrate — he may be a very fit and v\'orthy
man for that oifice, I know nothing to the contrary — but you will not see that cheat
ing carried ou vvhich now is. They are a raere stock-jobbing body of fellows ; — loan-
mongers and stock-jobbers.
In the raean tirae, there is an under plot going on in Belgiura. The Bank of Brus
sels has hesitated to pay its notes in gold and silver, and you shall hear the accounts
given of it in the Order ofthe Day, as it is called. Their movement is so much like
tbe capers ofthe old lady, when she stopped, that you may almost think thethingof
which you are reading is going on in England, instead of Brussels. " The staff aud
council ofthe Burgher Guard, being informed tbat some alarm bas been manifested
respecting the momentary difficulties in getting change for the notes payable to tbe
bearers, at the bank of Brussels, bave thought it their duty to inquire into the matter."
So, ho, to inquire into tbe matter ! Why, what the devil had they to do biit pay the
uotes ? What inquiry was there to make ? What bad they to do, but count down
the money when the notes were presented ? The banks and the Burgher Guard
thought it their duty to inquire ! So that if I give a man my note, payable at a
certain time, to day, for instance ; he brings it to me at the time for payraent, and I
say, " Oh, I think it necessary to inquire." Why, what the devil, I again ask,
should I have to do, but to count out the money and pay the bill ? So thou<^ht not
the staff and the council ofthe Burgher Guard. Very well, let's go on : " The result
of their inquiry is, that those difficulties arise solely either from some precautions "
—what precautions ? If a man got value for a bill of exchange, what had he to

do, biit to give money for it when it was presented ? Sueh a scene of roguery and
viUany this world never saw. And the impudence of these fellows ! " From some
precautious which the directors of the bank"— you see they've directors too. (Laugh
ter.) " From some precautions "—I dare say it did arise frora these ; and I dare
say, too, they do not well know the remedy. "From some precautions which the
directors of the bank could not but take under tbe present circumstances "—no
doubt—" or from the great number ofthe holders of such notes, whom a moment of
alarm induced to apply to the bank for some days. The staff and councU"— what
the devU, these soldiers come in and say whether the bank ought to pay their notes !
Yes, gentlemen, and it will be so in every country where there is paper money 
(cheers)— only they will, perhaps, make shorter work of it than these Belgians are
making of it. Well, " the staff and tbe council have convinced themselves "—I dare
say they have—" have convinced themselves that the holders of the notes have no
reasou and no pretext foralarm." It would have been better, certainly, had the staff
and the council convinced the holders of the notes of this fact. (Laughter.) But
"the staff and the council having convinced themselves." (Renewed laughter.)
Suppose, now, I get a bill on some man, andlvvant the money, the bUl having becorae
due; I present it for payraent, and tbe accepter says, " I ara convinced, Cobbett,
you have no cause for alarm." Would that be likely to satisfy ray deraand ? How
ever, the staff and the council having convinced themselves of this, " the principal
merchants" — now raind, gentleraen ! Oh, how much this is like thera here ! Aye,
as much so as if it were spit out of tbeir mouth. " The principal merchants have
agreed to take these notes in payraent " — just as they did here. You know they had
a round robin to this effect. " Oh, let us save her." Yes, but they did not think
good, at the same tirae, to let her be liable to pay her notes in gold. Oh, uo, ready
as they were to take her notes, they did not do that. But only raind how like are the
two things. How like the child is to the old raaraa ! (Great laughter.) " And all
receivers of taxes have been instructed to take thera in payment of taxes and contri
butions of every description." That they borrowed from our bank restriction of 1797.
Oh, yes, they are very ready when they get into this state to take the notes in pay
ment of taxes . Why, to be sure, thei-e is not money to pay with, and therefore they
must take the notes or get no taxes at all ; aud you raay be sure they will prefer the
former. Gentlemen, this is the state of things in Brussels, and, as I have said, it is almost
as had in France, though they have no paper raoney under 201. Still there are the
advances and the anticipations of these notes ; there are thousands — hundreds of
thousands of bills of exchange, and other securities — all these, with discounts and so
on, are put an end to ; they have all vanished at once, and hence you see the rail
lions of gold that are going away from this country to fill up tbe vacuum. These are
the important circumstances that are at work, and they are at work too for our be
nefit, for there is not a twitch that these banks feel that is not felt by the Old Lady
herself. In 1825 and 1826, at the panic, it was mentioned in parliaraent, that the
concern here was propped up by the bank of France. This was notorious, in fact. At
that time the French bank was not in a state of suspicion ; the Bourbons could collect
the taxes, and things were going on apparently smoothly. It therefore propped up
our concern, as it was its duty to do, to be sure. The daughter is bound in duty to
assist the mother when the mother cannot sustain herself. But robbed of that daugh
ter, what will she do ? You will see her, not only in the state of 1797, but worse,
if the debt of France be swept away by the board, and swept away it will be, rest you
assured. One nation receives an example from another, and acts upon it too.
Where is there a raan in England vvho does not feel that the example ofthe Parisians
is not to be without its effect ? Aye, and their exaraple, vvith regard to the non-pay
ment of taxes, wUl be followed too. When the Duke of Brunswick was about to be
driven away frora bis doiuinipns, the cry was, " No taxes." Aye, gentleraen, and

w
thatis the most alarming cry that a government can ever hear ; that's the alarming
cry ; (cheers) and whenever a nation has taken it into its head to say, " Wq w^^
not p£(y taxes," there has been an end to the thing. This is what the Freneh are
now saying ; yes, and they are acting upon it, and vvill continue to act upon it,
(Renewed cheering.) And, gentlemen, they will oblige the government to give way i
for whatever nation- no matter where— whatever nation acts upon this principle]
MUST bring its GOVERNMENT TO DO IT JUSTICE. (Great applause.) Be
you assured that is the cry — that is the way in which the people are to act under
these circumstances- that is the true way ;— the French, the Belgians, aud the Bruns
wickers are so acting, and so must every nation which is similarly circumstanced.
Gentlemen, I wish to say one word to show you the difference of feeling in men;
with reference to the people. At present their opinion seems to be high. In -the
year 1818 I returned from Araerica, whither I had fled to avoid the deUghta of Sid-
mouth's dungeou. Preferring to walk about Long Island rather than to be locked
up in the cell of a prison, I crossed the water, and took up ray abode there. Well,
in 1818, I returned to England. The people in the north, the working people, seemed
to be rauch delighted at my return, and at Manchester they prepared to give' me a
grand reception. Tbe boroughreeve, however — for that is the name of the head
officer of the town — did not much relish the dinner that had been provided for me,
and he therefore sent me word, that if I did approach the town, and make a public
entry — and a private one 1 could not raake either by day or night — ifl did enter, he
should be corapeUed to interfere, and that he had a thousand foot soldiers," tljree or
four hundred horse, and four or five pieces of cannon. (Much laughter.) Gentlemen,
the species of interference vvhich he intended was very evident, and therefore rather
than risk the loss of life, and other lamentable things vvhich I believed raightoe oc-
.casioned, 1 turned towards Warrington, and left the people of Manchester, though I
should have been highly proud of the reception they intended fpr rae. Now, gentle
men, it is droll that the tasle of this same officer, and ihe same raan, for what 1
know, should so greatly change in the space of eleven years. The other day, the
Duke of Wellington, who had accepted an invitation toj pass along the rail-road
frora Liverpool to Manchester, deterrained, very properly, audi as every man of
feeling and coraraon decency must bave done under such circumstances, determined
in consequence of the fatal accident that had befallen one of hjs cpmpanipns, nPt to
go on to Manchester, but proposed to return at once to Liverpool. Well, how was
he prevented from doing this ? Why, by being informed, that if he did hot go on
and make his public entry into Manchester, the boroughreeve would uot be answer
able for the peace of the town. (Laughter.) He would uot be answerable for the
peace of the town if I did make my public entry, and he would uot be answerable
for it, if the Duke did not. Only sec, then, how his taste has changed during the last
eleven years. But vve cannot help asking this question. What peace of the town ?
What danger was there ? "Oh, the people!" WeU, what of the people ? "Oh,
the lower orders !" Well, what of the lower orders ? " Oh, they would have torn
the railway up, and God knows what besides !" WeU then, gentleraen, tbey have
discovered that the lower orders are something, at last ; and is it not surprising, that
while they represent these comraon people, these lower orders, as being able to de
molish every-thing in a moment, that they do not prevent their anger being kindled
toward themselves? Not at all. Their whole course, for at least the last forty
years, has been lo set thera at defiance, to raake them hate and execrate them, and
thus prepare them for tbat day of retribution which they did not expect ever to come,
but which is not now far distant. (Immense cheering.)
A few years ago, thatis in 1816, Lord Milton said, in the House of Comrapns,
tbat he should like to come to close quarters with the reformers — I suppose he had
some fellow to do with vvho vvas not very troublesome — but he said he should like to
corae to close quarters with the reformers. Gentlemen, the tirae has arrived when
he raay come to close quarters with them. (Applause.) But, how did he show his
inclination ? Why, in the first place, in the very next year he might have come to
close quarters, but what did he do ? Why, when a million and a half of petitions
were presented for reform, my Lord Milton answered their arguments by voting
for a gagging bill ; and his father for a gagging bill, and a dungeon bUI, too.
That was the way he came to close quarters, then ; and now, when there
is a prospect of close quarters again, he shows his boldness, and his pro
pensity to grapple with the reforraers, by slinking away Irora the county of
Yorkshire, and creeping iu for a rotten borough. (Cheers.) Oh, yes, ray Lord
Milton was not going to face thousands of men, whom he must have faced had
be sought to be re-elected ; depend upon it he is so strongly disposed to come to
close quarters with the fefprmers, tbat he would prefer to walk quietly in for a rol-^

11
ten borough (renewed cheers)— the place lately filled by the Attorney-General, and
leaves Yorkshire to be filled by the lawyer Broughara. Gentleraen, you see his de^
sire was, uot to corae to close quarters with the reformers, but to get out ofthe way;
not to be so prominent in the House as before, but to put forward a talking lawyer,
who bas talent to wheedle the people, and make thera believe that they have got
soinewhat nearer the mark than before, in consequence of his election. It is there
fore ofthe greatest iraportance that we take a view of this lawyer aud his party, for
they will be arraed against the Duke. Gentleraen, vve shall have the Duke with us,
if we behave witb becoraing spirit. (Cheers.)
Gentlemen, vve shall have the Whigs, as they call theraselves, and very properly
too, arrayed against the Duke, trying to prevent that which he raay be disposed to
give to us from being efficient for our good. Let me then call your attention to this
faction of pretended patriots, pretended lovers of liberty, friends of the people, for
unless we be on our guard agaiust tbem, we shall be cheated at last, and the day of
our deliverance be deferred. Look at their conduct, then. This faction has suc
ceeded in deceiving the people for a long while, and it still has its hold upon the
minds and affections of some. What pretension has this faction, then, to patriot
ism and friendship for the people ? In the first place, they raade the NATIONAL-
DEBT, and all the evils arising out of it; they passed the SEPTENNIAL
BILL ; they made the EXCISE LAWS ; and when they carae into power,
they passed EVERY ODIOUS LAW. In the plenitude of their power, in 1806,
the first thing they did was to add to the number of Gekman troops in the
counts' ; the second thing was to pass a law, enabling Lord Grenville to unite in
his ov»n person the two offices of First Lord of the Treasury and Auditor of the
Exchequer, that he might receive 12,0001. a year of the public raoney. This really
seemed to be a raeasure of impossibility — to give a man 4,0001. a year for auditing his
own accounts — to be so incongruous, that it was, as the poet says, raaking irapossi-
bilities coalesce. The next thing they did was — not to propose excise laws, for those
they had passed long before — but it was to propose a law by Lord Henry Petty, now
the Marquis of Lansdowne, to bring the exciseman into every private house; to
lay a tax upon tbe beer brewed by any raan for his own consumption. So that an
En'lishraan's house would have been bis castle with a vengeance, if that law had
pas'sed. We complain of the Tories pressing us down with taxes, but they have never,
though bad enough, God knows, they have never been half so bad as the others. The
whigs say they are for retrenchraent and econoray ; how did tbey show that in the
income tax, which they created? that most unjust of all taxes. They laid a tax
of 10 per cent, on all property, as they called it, including in it every tradesman,
and makin" hira, in fact, pay seven times as much as tbe lord. At the same tirae
they passed a law to AUGMENTlhelNCOMESof the ROYAL FAMILY, and relieve
them from the operation of the property tax. Yes, and they did more ; for the law
under which that faraUy reigns— the law of settlement— stipulates positively and abso
lutely that no foreigner shall enjoy any pension or place Of eraoluraent under the
crown, but these whigs APPOINTED SCORES OF FOREIGNERS, who are on the
pension list to this day. Gentlemen, the tories, bad as they are, never committed
such indecencies as these ! And how have tbese same meu acted recently ? They
have now and tlien had a pretty little raotion for pariiamentary reforra— such as ray
Lord John RusseU's scheme. But in 1827 mark their conduct. At tbat time Canning
came into power, and he made a kind of coalition with them. He wbo had opposed
the reformers all his liferime, though he had taken 150,0001. of our raoney. WeU,
they araalgaraated with hira. Oh, yes, they would all support the right honourable
gentleman To be sure, because he bad got places and pensions to bestow. Brougham,
you recoUect thought to get made Master of the Rolls (cheers aud laughter), and
Lord John Russell was, perhaps, to have beeu made an ambassador (renewed laugh-
terl One night when the bouse was sitting (for they do aU their work by owl fight),
one ni"-ht Mr Peel asked bow the honourable gentlemen who had taken their seats
on the "treasury benches would agree with one another on the question of pariiament-
arv reform— (Laughter.) Canning got up, and said, be would oppose reform in that
house to the last moment of his life, let it come in whatever shape it might. Very
well, that was aU very well, and very consistent in Canning ; but how did the whigs
act > Whv Lord John r..usSELL, who had a notice of a motion for reform before the
house, got up, and said that he had discovered the people did not want reforra now
and therefore he should beg to withdraw his raotion.- (Great laugliter.)-Aye, and
Brougham supported hira. He said that the people for sorae years now had not
w shed for any such thing as pariiamentary reform; therefore he would support his
rMt honourable friend, nolwithstanding that he objected to parhamentary relorm.-

12
(Loud cries of shame, shame.)— Burdett, too, said he would support the right hon.
gentleman, notwithstanding his declaration. That, then, was their conduct in 1827,
only three years ago; and is any one to believe — is any raan so foolish as to beUeve—
that they arc now sincere wheu they talk about reform ? All of them, however, dis-
like the ballot, and for the reasons I have upon a forraer occasion had the honour to
state to you— because they know that it would be the great security ofthe indepen
dence of the people. This, gentleraen, will be their conduct, and against that we
must be upon our guard. If we be not, we shall be cheated with some shuffling
thing. My idea is, that the duke may come to the house and propose a natipnai
KIND of reform— (Laughter.) — Not a wild and visionary reform ; oh, no, to be sure
not. Our answer wiU be, " No, my lord duke, we are for nothing wild and visionary,
we only want that everv man, able to carry a musket, should have a vote,
if he be in his senses, and be not tainted by indelible crime ; we want this, because our
bodies areliable to be forced out in defence of your estates, my lord duke, if they should
be placed in danger. (Applause.) Then, vve want that parliaments should be shorter,
because we perceive that the inembers grow very slack in their duties in the course of
7 years, until they are just on the eve of an election. Twelve years is the average of
a man's life, and therefore vve think that seven years is too long for which to return
a meraber to parliament. And then we want the ballot, because of many things;
among the rest, because it would put an end lo canvassing and bribery, and aU
those infaraies which are practised once in about four or five years. (Great cheer
ing.) We want, my Lord Duke, to put an end to this infamy, and if you caU this
wild and visionary— if you, who belong to three or four Bible societies — call it wild
and visionary to put an end to that bribery and perjury vvhich God has denounced
and held up to execration, — if you call this wild and visionary, ray Lord Duke, we
can only say, that we have not the same dictionary to explain our words by." (Ap
plause.) Gentlemen, if you stand to this firraly, let them go on with their projects ;
they raay pass a law — and it would not be right to resist it ; let us see the operation
of it first. But this is the course I think the thing will take, — after they have been
discussing parliamentary reforra for some tirae, sorae raan among them will get up,
aud will have the honesty and the boldness to make a point of the ballot. (Cheers.)
"There," he will say, "all the people understand that; give them the ballot."
Yes, gentlemen, WILLIAM IV. and the BALLOT, all the world over ! (Long.con-
tinued applause.) And my opinion is, that when that comes to be discussed, if the
man who brings it forward be in earnest, it will come to be THE BALLOT OR
NOTHING. (Renewed cheering.) When that question comes to be decided, they
will have 200,000 voters waiting the result of the decision. They will not regard it
with indifference ; they will feel their own existence to be at stake. And thus I
hope we shall get the thing we seek without disturbances or bloodshed. That we
raay do this, is, I ara sure, ray sincere wish ; and it has been the whole endeavour
of my life, to cause that to take place in ray country. (Loud cheering.)

XiIBERT-Sr OF THE PRESS ASSERTED:

On Saturday, October 9, will be published, on a sheet of paper, double the size
of Cobbett's Register, folded into a pamphlet, and containing 32 closely-
printed pages, in double columns, price Four-Pence,
A POLITICAL LETTER,
ADDRESSED TO
A FRIEND or an ENEMY, (as events may suggest,)

containing
A COMPREHENSIVE DIGEST OF

ALL THE PUBLIC EVENTS
AND PASSING
OCCURRENCES OF THE DAY,
Both Foreign and Domestic,
accompanied with
ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS AND COMMENTS.

PRAY KEAD WHAT FOLLOWS!
It is unnecessary to iuform tbe British Public, that araong other results of tbe late
wars with Araerica and France, waged by the English Aristocracy, forthe purpose of
repressing the rising liberties of the world, is to be enumerated that raeasure which
has for so long a period deprived the people of political knowledge, by the imposition
ofa heavy tax upon every newspaper, more than one-half tbe selling price of which
is paid, before publication, into his Majesty's treasury. The Act of 38 Geo. iii. c. 78
(1798), imposes upon each newspaper printed in England or Scotland, a duty of four-
pence to the king; and further requires the proprietors, under very heavy penalties,
to enter into certain sureties and recognizances ;— but witb tbese most oppressive and
unjust requireraents it is unnecessary tbat we should now trouble tbe reader. Other
and more fitting opportunities for this vvill present themselves, and we shall then
not fail to express ourselves fully and freely upon the subject.
The act to which we have referred, did not, however, totally deprive the people of
the means of acquiring political knowledge, or of opportunities to obtain an insight
into the proceedings of the administrations under which tbey lived. Political
pamphlets could still be published, and were published, not without effect, down to
the year 1820. In the course of this year, tbe late Lord Castlereagh, of blessed me
mory, introduced his far-famed SIX ACTS, one of which was levelled at the aforesaid
political pamphlets, and was intended by the liberal administration of which the nor

14
ble lord was so bright an ornament, to shut out frpm the people the partial light
they had retained, and plunge thera into utter darkness, as to tbe proceedings of those
who jvere placed at the helra of public affairs.
This Act provides that " a« paraphlets and papers, containing any public news,
intelligence, or occurrences, or any remarks or observations thereon, or upon any
matter in Church or State, printed in any part of the United Kingdom for sale, and
pubUshed periodically, or in parts, or numbers, at intervals of time not exceeding
twenty-six days, shall be deeraed and taken tp be newspapers, within the true intent
and raeaning ofthe Act of 38 Geo. iii. c. 78."
By this Act, the Castlereagh Adrainistration purposed the suppression of every
publication which vvas designed to bring before the public the political occurrences
of the (tiraes, or to expose the tendency of the political measures ofthe Government.
"The gone-by Government to vvhich we owe this raonument of shame, was," as the
Westrainster Revieweis justly observe, " the eneray of inforraation, because the
extension of information was its deadbest foe. It was a Government whose pro
ceedings would have been impracticable, under a state of public information ; aud,
consequently, its first interest was to do all that might retard those advances which
it could not totally prevent  One administration, in 1797, imposes a stamp
duty on newspapers, because they let in too much light upon the public; and
another, in 1819, enacts, for the same reason, that pamphlets and printed papers
shall be newspapers."
There is a very important error in the last member of this sentence, as the reader
will shortly perceive, but we have quoted the passage from this able and honest
and patriotic work, because it properly characterises the motives whence the restrict
tions on the English press have emanated. One thing, however, is certain ; namely,
that tbe sapient statesmen frora whom the act of 1820 proceeded, exulted in the
supposed consumraation of their object, when the assent of Parliaraent and the
Crown was given to their measure. Upon the creation of tbe law, most of these
pamphlets disappeared, and to the previous cost of those which survived, was added
four-pence, which passed into the coffers of the state.
It is unnecessary here to dwell upon the consequences of this measure ; — they were
just what were anticipated and intended by its projectors, and are lo be found
existing in the degraded, the prostrate, and the spiritless condition ofthe people,
under an accumulation of privaiions and moral and physical evils never before
existing in the country, and which could not have been thus protracted had not the
freedom ofthe press been destroyed.
But now for our remedy! How has it happened that the blunders and short
sightedness of the Castlereagh law-makers have never yet been discovered .' How
is it that the people of England, against whose political rights the infamous Act of
1820 was levelled, have hitherto failed to perceive, that notwithstanding the anxiety,
and the care, and the skill of Attorneys and Solicitors General, and the whole
phalanx of Treasury Lawyers and Legislators, that Act is after all so lame and im
perfect as to be wholly inadequate to restrain the publication of such works as may
supply all the political inforniatiou that raay be desired !
Is not this a discovery of immense importance to the public; and is there a man
in tbe three kingdoms who will refuse us his assistance, in our deterraination to bring
the question to an issue ? If we succeed — of which it is irapossible to entertain a
doubt — we shall be entitled to the credit not only of evading — fairly evading  one of
the raost unjust fiscal extortions ever known, but also of breaking up the injurious
monopoly of the Newspaper Press. As the law is now perraitted to ofierate, it is per
sons with enormous capitals only who can becorae directors of the pubhc raind, upon
subjects of a political character. Tbe evils of this are too apparent to require enu
meration, nor would the limits of a prospectus permit of it, were such an enumeration
desirable. — We pass on, therefore, to tbat which more immediately concerns us in
this appeal tu the public.
The Act of 1798 prohibits, as we have already stated, tbe publication of a news
paper, except upon the payment to the Crown of a duty o( fourpence upon each num
ber, and of tliree shiUings and si.rpence upon each advertisement, and a compliance

15
with a number of other vexatious and expensive conditions. The subsequent Act of
1820 extends the like imposition upon all paraphlets, containing news, inteUigence,
occurrences, &c. published periodically , or iu parts or numbers, within certain inter
vals of time. But beyond this it does not proceed. Periodical political pamphlets
only ate prohibited ; and for the publication of these, only, can the Castlereagh Act
Visit vvith punishment I
This, then, is the discovery we have raade ; and we purpose, with the aid of the
public, to act upon it. Onthe evening of Saturday, Oct, 9tb, we design to publish a
LETTER, addressed either to one of our cousins in tbe country, or to one of our states
men iu town, in which we will give as full and comprehensive an abstract of public
occurrences in every part of the world as is to be found in any weekly newspaper ;
accompanied with such coraraents, strictures, or other remarks, as the nature of the
case may require. 'Fhis we will follow each week by a somewhat sirailar, but totally
distinct, publication. Long experience, acquired in conducting one of the most
popular newspapers of the metropolis, will enable us to bring facilities possessed by
few, to our new undertaking, and afford a guarantee of its respectability.
It is scarcely necessary, after what we have said, to make any declaration of our
political principles. We will add, however, that we are desirous to identify our
selves with no party, but tbat of the people. Every public raeasure, the design pf
which is te advance the public good, whether adequate to its purposes or otherwise,
will comraand our respectful consideration, emanate from whom it may. Measures
rather thau men will be the objects of our inquisition ; argutnent and not abuse, the
power which we will exercise. An intimate knowledge of the accumulated griev
ances under which the whole of the productive interests suffer, will induce us to hail
with pleasure the most liraited concession to their demands, without in the slightest
degree abating our ardour in pursuit of the whole of those ameliorations which
justice requires. In a word, while we shall give our unqualified approbation to
every proposed reform of legislature, commercial, local. Or judicial abuse, as so
many mitigations of the aggregate evil, — we will never rest satisfied till we shall
have seen the source whence it all proceeds entirely broken up, by such a refortti in
the Commons House of Parliament as shall restore to the whole people that share in
the government which is guaranteed to them by the constitution, but of whicl^ they
have been defrauded by a corrupt and overgrown aristocracy.
Advertisements vvill be inserted on the usual terras ; and as our circulation will be
extensive in proportion to the comparatively low price of the work, it offers peculiar
advantages to advertisers. Office, 1, Bouverie-street, Fleet-street.
*,* Persons in tbe country desirous to becorae agents, are requested to write
(post paid) to the office, giving their references in town.

16
Publishing in numbers, neatly printed in lf3mo., embellished with engravings
(to be continued weekly,) price Two-pence,
ANECDOTES OF THE SECOND FRENCH REVOLUTION:
Embracing Details of tlie Leading Occurrences in Paris ; with Biographical Sketches
of the principal actors ; derived from authentic sources.
*,* The public are cautioned against confounding this work with "Annals of
the French Revolution." This is not a mere collection of scraps from the news
papers, which are in every person's hands, thrown together without order or arrange
ment, but a well-digested and detailed Historical Sketch of French Affairs and
Occurrences, from the formation of the Polignac Cabinet, to the consolidation ot
the New Government ; with Biographical Notices of the principal persons connected
with the events ofthe recent Revolution.
" I am not going to give you a bistory, or narrative, of the recent transactions in
France, you will find that done in a little work published in London, at Strange's
Publication Warehouse, in Paternoster-row. 'Fhese numbers are published weekly,
price two-pence, and are very well worthy of your attention." — Mr. Cobbett's Two-
Penny Trash, No. 3.
" This little work possesses the rare merit of containing more than its title-page
would lead us to expect. It promises anecdotes, and gives us a history, written too
with special reference to the people of England, and the lessons to them which are
derivable from it." — Weekly Free Press.
*'The work will form a most valuable addition tp the pppr raan's library." — Co
operative Miscellany, Sept,
" This is, without exceptipn, the neatest, rapst elegant, and one of the best-written
and cheapest publications we have met with." — Reformers' Register, Sept,
THE MAGAZINE OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. (Price fourpence,
Monthh.) "This publication might be appropriately styled, 'The Wprkman's
Friend,' — everybody should read it."
The QUARTERLY REPORTS of the Britisli Association for Pro
moting Co-operative Knowledge. Nos. 2, 3, and 4, twopence each. N.B. Persons
inquiring ' What is Co-operation ? ' should read these Reports.
Mr. OWEN'S SUNDAY MORNING LECTURES, (Weekly, price
threepence,) on an entire New State op Society ; comprehending an Analysis of
British Society relative to the Production and Distribution of Wealth ; the Forma
tion of Character ; and Government, Doraestic and Foreign. Nos. 1 to 9 now ready.
Price 3d., printed uniforraly witb Mr. Owen's Lectures.
An EXAMINATION OF MR. OWEN'S DOCTRINES OF HUMAN
RESPONSIBILITY, and tbe Influence of Circumstances in the Formation of
Character. All the Co-operative Publications supplied.
EVERY MAN HIS OWN BREWER ; or the Art of Brewing
clearly explained ; vvith an Abstract of the New Act for regulating the Sale of Beer.
Price threepence.
AN ABSTRACT of the Act to Consolidate and Amend the Laws re
lating to Friendly Societies. Price twopence.
THE ARTICLE on RADICAL REFORM, reprinted from the West-
minster Review; price Two-pence.
APPEAL of The Metropolitan Political Union to the People
of England; price One Penny ; or 4s. 6d. per hundred for distribution.
THE BIRMINGHAM CO-OPERATIVE HERALD. (Monthly,
price One Penny.) Nos. 1 to 18 now ready.
London: Strange, 21, Paternoster Row ; Chappell, Royal Exchan"-e- Cowie 18,
Goswell Road; Purkess, til, Wardour Street; Mann, Leeds; Wroe, Manches'ter •
Marshall, Newcastle-on-Tyne ; and all Booksellers. '

I'nnled by RIills, Jowett, and Mills, liolt court, Flett-stleet.

Church Property ! ! !
A SEVENTH
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, ANn
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BV •WllJLlAm. COBBBTT.
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge,
on Thursday, Sepf. 23rd.

Gentlemen, If I am to judge from the aspect of the audience, -who honour me
this evening, I must believe that the church is a subject of great interest.
It really is one of great interest, for we all feel that that immense mass
of property ought to be applied to far different purposes than it is at
present. But before I proceed to that interesting subject, there are two
or three little things which I desire to mention. First, with regard to
the petition agreed to here the other evening, and which I am anxious
to see very numerously signed, and presented to his majesty before
the meeting of parliament : there are certain places where it is already
deposited for signature. These places, gentlemen, are as follow :— At
\^STJi.iNGE,2\, Paternoster Row.— Price Threepence.']

the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge (where we now meet) ;— at my Office,
in Bolt Court, where I shall be happy to see any gentleman who will
do me the honour to sign ; at Mr. Watling's, bookseller, Strand, near
the Adelphi ; at Mr. Strange's, Paternoster Row, who has also the
public spirit, without any prospect of a very large gain, to have these
lectures taken down in a most accurate manner, and published at a
very cheap price (cheers) ; at Mr. Nashe's, Star, Blackraan Street, in the
Borough ; at Mr. Noble's, 13, Crombie's Row ; and at Mr. T.
Barnard's, 3'2, Little Pulteney Street, Soho. These persons have
already kindly offered their places and services, to receive signatures
to the petition, and I do hope that we shall have large numbers call
upon them for this purpose.
Another little thing which I desire to mention is this. Some of
you, gentlemen, may recollect, that in the early part of these lectures,
I mentioned the monstrous pension of Burke ; that somebody for
him, had received the pension for thirty years since his death ; and that
we had been thus paying at the rate of £2500 a year since 1799, when
that writer died. Now, gentleraen, that statement has galled some
body ; it has been felt somewhere ; every body is not dead to shame.
Some paper in Lancashire has said, that when Burke died, he owed
a sum of money to the boroughraonger who put him into parliament.
Now, the boroughmonger, or some one for him, has contradicted that,
and has published a statement of the executor of Mr. Burke, whose
pension ought, at least, to have ceased at his death, but who made
Mrs. Burke his executrix. This Mrs. Burke, as I told you before,
had a pension given to her also, but it terminated at her death ; at
which time she divided Burke's pension among the nephews and nieces
of herself and Burke. (Murmurs, and loud cries of shame.) Thus the
nation is taxed, double-ridden, for generations to come, to maintain
in splendour those who call themselves ladies and gentlemen, and who,
when we are beggared by these means, have the audacity to call us
paupers. (Cheers.)
Gentlemen, having now to mention that I shall, contrary to my expec
tation, when I last had the honour to appear before you, be detained in
town f^r some days longer, I may as well mention the cause, because
it will show you some of this waste of money of which we complain.
I had an auction going to take place at Barn Elms. I put it into
my Register, and into the hills, that it would take place on next Monday,
for 1 chose to have it take place at that time. Upon seeing the bill,
the auctioneer came to me half out of his senses, and said I could
not have the sale on Monday. Why not ? " Because " said he " I
must give three clear days' notice of it, before I can hold an auction ;"
— either at the Excise-office or somewhere ; " and if I do not give
three clear days' notice of it," added he, " I am liable to a heavy
penalty." Therefore am I thrown all back with my auction ! I can't
have my auction on Monday next. And then observe, if there be
anything belonging to the land— anything that would, in case of my
failure, belong to the landlord -that pays no duty ; but household
goods, some of which I want to sell, they pay a duty, because they are
not the landlord's. Another little obstacle, too, occurred. This v\'eek

1 have had to change my house in town : that was quite difficult enough ;
that was quite trouble enough for me, at any rate. Taking all my
papers, and books, and letters, from Fleet Street to Bolt Court, was
quite plague enough for me ; and then to sit at my table writing, all around
being in confusion ; that was quite enough plague for me. Aye, but
the government had a claim upon me here, too, gentlemen. I could
not move without giving three clear days' notice to the Stamp-office,
of my intention. I want to be at my farm to-morrow morning, to make
my catalogue ; and I must come back at one o'clock, to go to the
Stamp-office, and swear — take my oath — that I am going to publish
my Register in Bolt Court, instead of Fleet Street. (Great laughter.)
Gentlemen, can men bound down in this way, call themselves freemen ?
This has happened to me this very day ; to all of you it happens in
your turn, I'll warrant you ; and if we have the impudence to call
ourselves freemen, the whole world will blush. No, we cannot have
that impudence ; but I have the confidence to hope that we soon shall
call ourselves freemen, without being liable to be charged with impu
dence. (Applause.) Gentlemen, we now come to this interesting subject
of ours — the established church.
The Established Church, like other fine things, is a very fine, showy,
thing, which may be permitted without any great grumbling, so long
as we can permit it without suffering. The church of England, as
it is called, is a large mass of property. Now, while the nation can
afford to have that property employed — in having bishops, deans, and.
doctors swaggering about the streets, with their black aprons — while
we can afford to have this fine show, I see very little objection. It
is like any other thing which people have, and do not want. But when
we are reduced to the state in which we are now ; when it is necessary
for me to go and swear that I have removed my publication out of
Fleet Street into Bolt Court ; when it has become necessary to hamper
me as they have done with my auction ; when it is necessary to have
a man in my house to lock up the copper where my soap is boiling ;
when it is necessary for me to put my keys into the hands of an excise
man, that he may come into my house at any time he pleases, without
any previous notice ; when it is necessary to make use of means like
these, to get money to pay for the affairs of government, then it behoves
us to look about us, and see if there be any thing we can sell, in order
to clear off the incumbrances that bear upon us in this way. (Applause.)
That is the way we all do in our domestic concerns, when we are in
debt. Now, ministers have created for us a debt, a monstrous debt,
why they have done so I do not very well know ; but they have given
us a debt, costing us THIRTY MILLIONS annually to pay the interest
of it, and therefore we must, so long as we allow it to be right, be
taxed to pay this interest. Let us agree for the present that this must
he paid— that it is right it should be paid ; well then, as we cannot
now pay it, without being put to the straits I have spoken of ; as we
cannot pay it without compelling every working man to pay a tax of
fourpence-halfpenny out of every sixpence he pays for beer ; as we
cannot pay it without making the sugar double the price to the poor
man ; without raaking the quid of tobacco pay four hundred times

as much as it would otherwise do ; — as all this, and much more, is the
case, why, then we ought to look about us, and see if there he
nothing that we can sell ; just as we do in private life. (Cheers.) When
a man finds that he has no money, and that he can obtain no credit-
that no one will lend him any money — the first question that he puts to
himself, when reduced to such straits, is, " Have I nothing that I can
sell ?" Gentlemen, a man pushed in this manner is very apt to discover,
if, for instance, he have a horse and chaise, he is very apt to discover
that he can do without that. He will be very *vpt to discover, too,
that a pewter spoon is as good as a silver one. And so he will go on.
Now, then, I say that we should act in the same way in our national
affairs. We are hard pressed, very hard pressed ; let us look about,
then, and see whether we have nothing that we can sell.
Now, gentlemen, I look to the largest thing — to that which will
fetch most — first, and what is that ? Why, what is called church
jiroperty. There are two questions, then, for consideration here. The
first is. Have the nation a right to sell this property, and apply the
jiTOceeds to public purposes ? And the second is. Is it consistent
with moral justice to exercise that right, supposing them to possess
it ? I maintain the affirmative of both these propositions, and if
you will lend me your patience, I will endeavour to establish them
by statement and argument. It is necessary to establish both these
propositions, for it does not follow, that because we possess the right,
it would, therefore, be just to exercise it. Human laws cannot be
so perfectly framed as to protect in all cases the right, without
injuring in some respects those who are not at all in the wrong.
In this case, it might clearly appear that we had the right to this
mass of property ; but upon further investigation, it might as clearly
appear that it would not be just to the present possessors to exercise
that right. I put it then upon the latter proposition ; and, although,
I prove that we have an unquestionable right to the property of the
churcli, yet, if I do not prove, in an equally satisfactory manner,
tliat it would be morally just to exej-cise that right, then, I shall
say, in God's name let them still enjoy their property. (Great
ajiplause.) It is often said, by those who call themselves the friends of the
church, that church property is like all other property ; if you touch
that, by the same rule you may touch all other. In short, they say,
it is as sacred as private property. What they mean by sacred^ I
do not very well know. They mean perhaps, that even if the whole
people chose the legislature, they would have no right to take this
property, and apply it to public purposes. I never did hear any body
quite so audacious as to pretend that in all respects church property
was upon a level with private property, except Plunkett, who is now
a judge in Ireland. I never heard any other person go to that extent ;
but, still they say, the nation has no right in the world to touch it.
Now, how can it be private property, or otherwise than public
property ? Why can it not be affected by Acts of Parliament, since it
litis been so from time immemorial — from the earliest ages of which we
have any knowledge of law ? But, let me speak of the origin of this

property. Ho* did it originate? It did not drop from the sky.
No, gentlemen, it is not of celestial origin, be you assured. (Great
laughter.) Oh, they say, God gave it to the clergy. (Renewed
laughter.) Now, gentlemen, the church property came thus, and
every grant of property, of that kind— whether it were parochial
endowment, conventual endowment, or whatever description it might
he, there never was a single grant that was not for the purpose, and
accorapanied by the words — " 'To GOD and the POOR." Gentlemen,
there never was a grant of that sort in this world, under the Catholic church
— and you, know Protestants, do not make such grants — (laughter.)
— there never was a grant of that sort made in this world"" that was
unaccompanied by those words. Never, but in the narae, and for
the purpose of satisfying the claims of religion and charity. (Applause.)
Well, and to those purposes the property was applied for nine
centuries ; — for nnie hundred years it was applied to these purposes
only. This was not only according to the scriptures, according to
canon law, and according to the common law, but it was also according
to the statute law of the land. It was the duty of the clergy to
relieve the poor— all widows, orphans, and strangers. Divers Acts
of Parliament were passed ; for when they neglected, in certain
cases, to do their duty, the legislature interfered, and passed laws
to compel them to retain enough of the property in the parish to
maintain the poor. — Well, then, gentlemen, this was very different
from the present state of things. Do the clergy maintain the poor
now ? (Great laughter.) No, nor any part of them ; but, on the
contrary, the people are compelled to labour and pay taxes to
relieve the poor clergy. This, then, was the origin of the property ;
and inow let us look at the manner in which it has been dealt with
by the Parliament.
In the reign of Henry VIII. the whole of this property was taken
away from one set of men, and given to another set of men ; and
that by Act of Parliament. (Cheers.) In some cases, it was taken
entirely away from the clergy, and given to laymen. I am sure there
must be a hundred persons present who know instances where the
great tithes of a parish are owned by a layman, and the vicarial
or small tithes by a parson. In fact, the far greater part of the
large tithes are owned by laymen. Thus, the Duke of Devonshire
boasted in the House of Lords, last Parliament, that he possessed the
tithes of twenty parishes in Ireland. Was the grant originally made
to him, or to his ancestors, think ye? No, it was always to a pnest
of a parish, and for the service of God and the relief of the poor.
This cormorant duke, however, had the audacity to say, and ^tbat
without any scruple, and just as if it were a thing not to be ashamed
of, that he possessed the tithes of twenty parishes in Ireland. Why,
then, if a Parliament could take the great tithes away from the
priests,, and give them to laymen, surely they can now_ take the
srnall tithes away, and give them to laymen. (Much cheering ) Let
a lay impropriator come to collect tithes, and you say ] '\ """^
pay you" « Why ?"—" Because you are not a parson, and tithes
were granted to parsons. Why, you don't live here, you're no parson,

and yet you come to collect the tithes." Gentlemen, he'll say, " Oh,
I'll show you whether I have no right." You may reply, " But
you can't, the law is express ; it says so and so. Can you show mc
your title?" " Oh, if that's all you want, there it is— there's my
title ;" and out he pulls a piece of nasty dirty parchment of
Harry's, Edward's, or Elizabeth's. " There," says he, " have I
not got it ?" (Laughter.) " What care I," says you, " for your
blackguard piece of parchraent, or that wife-killing king? He had
no right to give away the property of the church. Can you show
me any Act of Parliament? Have you any law?" " Oh," he says,
" that's what you want is it ? You shall have that in a moment ;"
and down he pulls the statute book, and shows you the Act,
authorising the king to take away the property of the church, and
give it to whom he pleases. Well, but if a Parliament in this
reign, could take away the whole of the property from Catholics,
and give it to Protestants ; if an Act of Parliament could take away
the property from priests who lived in a state of celibacy, and give
it to parsons who had wives and families ; if it could do this, in
the reigns I have mentioned, surely it can now take away what
remains, and bestow it as it pleases. (Applause.) No man can
deny that if a Parliament had the right to take the whole, a Parliament
has a right to take what remains. (Renewed cheers.) And the
part that remains, though coraparatively trifling — the aristocracy having
grasped so much — still amounts to a good deal — to about EIGHT
MILLIONS sterling. Therefore, gentleraen, I would propose, that
we should take this, and apply it to the purposes of the nation.
" What ! seize it ?" Oh, no, no seizure. (Laughter.) " What,
then, would you confiscate it?" No, I should not like to call it
confiscation. I would not call it by any harsh names. (Renewed
laughter.) I would only propose to do as Harry and his Parliaments
did. — Besides, this Protestant church could not object to such an
appropriation. The Catholic church might object; but it would he
really adopting the Catholic creed to object. Only satisfy them,
therefore, that the nation wants the property, and that will be quite
sufficient. But what has been the modern practice ¦with regard to this property?
In the year 1798, the " heaven-born minister," Pitt, took away a part of
this property ; and if he could do so — if the " heaven-born minister"
could do so, surely ungodly fellows like we may make the proposition.
(Laughter.) Gentlemen, there was an act passed in the year I have
named, called " an Act for the rederaption of the land tax." Most of
the young men present, never, perhaps, heard of this act. It was the
most impudent act passed by that most impudent minister, and has a
very important relation to our inquiry. The act was called an act for
the redemption of the land tax, but it was really for the confiscation of
part of every man's landed estate. First, the act said, there shall be a
land tax of such an amount— ten per cent ;— next, this land tax shall he
perpetual, that is, shall last for ever. Next, it said, very indulgently,
every man may buy or redeem his land tax, or if he did not choose to
do this, theu another man might buy it of the government, and away frora

him. Suppose I Iiad ten fields, the governments say, " Give rae the worth
of one field, and then your land shall be free." I say, " I cannot give
you the worth of one field." " Well, then," say they, " your field
must be sold ;" and my field is sold to my neighbour. This was done in
innuraerable cases.— And they call this the sacredness of property, too.
(Laughter and cheers.) However, by this law, the property of the church,
the laiid of the clergy, was again laid hold of, aud coraraissioners were
appointed— who remain still, by the by— to see that the land was pro
perly valued, and paid for. The land of the clergy was taken, and
redeemed under this act, and the money paid into the exchequer, and
laid out in Burke's pensions, and other things of the same kind. (Cheers
and laughter.) Now, if the heaven-born minister could so alienate for
ever a part of the real property of the church, a part of the houses and
lauds of the clergy ; if the heaven-born minister could do this, surely
mere earthly creatures like we are, could propose to take the rest. (Great
laughter and cheering.) That which remains, cannot be more sacred
than that taken away. Nothing is so clear as this ; and all the argu
raent they pretend to trump up, about the rights of the church, have
been destroyed from the tirae of the reformation, when they broke in
upon Magna Charta. (Applause.)
And, as if all this were not enough to establish the fact, of the church
property, being property disposable by the parliament for the country,
they have also meddled with the revenues, as well as with the fee-simple
of the thing. A few years ago, they passed an act of parliament, to do
what ? To cause rectors and vicars, being incumbents, to pay their
curates at a certain rate ; that is, higher than they did before. So, then,
here comes an act of parliament, and interferes with a person's revenue.
It says, " you shall give your curate, not less than £75 a year, in the
place of £20, as you have formerly done." Now, the parliament could
not so interfere with the revenue and the concerns of a merchant, or a
farmer, or a tradesman. If an act were passed to say, a merchant shall
pay so much a week to his agent ; a tradesraan, so much to his porter ;
and a farmer, so much to his labourer : — if such a law as this had been
passed, it had been a little too glaring. We should have said, " Why,
these fellows are tyrants, indeed ; they are looking into our hooks ; they
are meddling with our private affairs ; we will not stand this, at all
events." We should say this, be you assured, gentlemen. But the
nation was very quiet, while the parliament was passing the curates'
hill ; and as far as they troubled themselves about it, they thought it was
very right. Why, the truth is, every body knew that the church pro-
pei-ty was public property, given for the purpose of supporting religion
and the poor. It is pretended, that it is so applied now, Ihat is to say,
for the support of religion ; and therefore the parliament said, " The men
who really do the work, who administer the rites of religion, shall be
paid bette'r than the pluralists and gormandizers now pay them." (Applause)
And it was certainly right to do this ; there can be no doubt about
the thing at all. But then, away goes all the defence against
the power of parliament in this raatter ; for if they had a right to
interfere in this way, surely they have the right to do any thing
they please with the whole of the church property. (Cheers.) There

is, therefore, no doubt in my opinion, and I hope it is the same in
your's. There is not the smallest doubt that the church property is
public property ; because, if it be not, then we stigmatise the
Parliament as the most tyrannical set of wretches on the face of
the earth, and the whole of the Parliaments for six hundred years have
been the same. Well, then, it is public property.
Gentlemen, I never heard an answei- to arguments and statements
of this sort, and I am sure I never shall. (Applause.) I may hear
a great deal of abuse. I may he called a deist, and an atheist,
and a jacobin, and a leveller, and all sorts of ugly names ; but that
will be and can be no answer to these statements and arguments.
(Renewed applause.)
Then, gentlemen, having established my first proposition — the right
of the nation to take this property, and apply it to their purposes,
the next question is. Is it just to do so ? Because, as I have already
reraarked, a thing maybe lawful, but not just; — we may have the
right to do that which in morality we should be ashamed of, and
which, therefore, we ought not to do. We shall apply this to
the question under consideration, and if I do not show that it would
be just to take this property away, the right to do so shall pass for
nothing. But in order to form an opinion whether it be just to do as is
here proposed, let us look at the state of this famous church. Let
us see how its purpose is answered ; how its duties are performed ;
and whether those who receive its revenues, those who receive the pay,
are the persons we ought to expect from their profession. And
here I beg it may be understood, that I am not so speaking, because,
I have any prejudices against the religion, or discipline, or services
of tho church of England. I was born and bred in that church, and
I change not. I never inquire about it. I know that my father
and mother were as good people as ever breathed ; they were members
of the established church. I do not desire to be better than
they were, and as I believe, they went to heaven, that is enough
for mc. I might mention, besides, that a bishop of the church did
mo the honour to say, that he believed I was the only true son
of the church, among all the men of England. (Laughter.) The
presumption, therefore is, that my bias is rather in favour of the
church ; at any rate, I declare that I feel no bias of any sort
concerning the religion of the church, and with regard to the clergy,
that is, those who really do the work, perhaps they are as meritorious
a set of men as are to be found among any class of society. (Cheer?.)
But it so happens, that in the church, as well as almost every where
else, they have inverted the principle of the scriptures - they go
agaiust it. The scripture says, " He who will not work shall not
eat." They have inculcated by law, and adopted at every turn,
the principle, that he who does no work shall have all the pay;
and he who receives the pay, shall do no work. (Great laughter.)
The curates of the established church, who do the work of the
church, are the most miserably provided for that can be imagined.
Gentlemen, I vvill give yon, presently, an instance of this from the

9
Morning Herald of yesterday, which is enough to move the indignation
of every man against this established church. What, then, is the
state of the established church. In England and Wales, there are
about eleven thousand parishes, or livings, and out of these there
are about two hundred having no people, and consequently no services.
Now, mark the injustice of this — I think there are in Lincolnshire
alone, twenty-seven parishes or livings of this description — now mark
the injustice of the establishment, and of the government in this
respect. Of course, there were formerly persons resident in these
districts, but from some cause or another they have been removed ;
when new churches were wanted, then, they should have gone to these
parishes, to be sure, and have taken the tithes and the revenues to
build them. But did they do that.** No; but they laid a heavy
tax on the whole nation for building them ; and they had the
injustice to make not only all the Dissenters— which is unjust enough
— but to make even the Roman Catholics pay for the new churches
which were building, instead of those that had been taken away frora
them. (Cheers.) They talk of Catholic Emancipation, and of doing
justice to the Catholics; gentlemen, it remains for the nation at large
to do the Catholics, as well as all other descriptions of persons
justice. (Applause.) Well, then, here is this number of churches
or livings having no service performed in them. So much the
better, says the parson, according to the maxim of a fat prebendary
of Canterbury, who had a living somewhere near Faversham ; so
much the better, that there is no work to do for the raoney. One
Sunday as this parson was waddling up the gravel walk to the
church, to whioh he used to go about once a month — the Methodists
having built a meeting and took away nearly all the people — as
he was waddUiig up to the church, the clerk said to him, " I be
afeard, zur, we mun lose all our custom ; they be all gone to
the meeting." "Well John, never mind," replied the bloated old
parson, " never mind the customers, John, so long as we can keep
the shop." (Great laughter.) Aye, little do they care; they
visit the flock but very seldom, and mostly at the time to take
something from it. There are, as I said before, eleven thousand,
and odd livings, and according to the last return which I saw
relative to the subject, there were six thousand and some odd
hundreds, out of the eleven thousand which had no residents upon
them. Now, to put it in round numbers, there are four thousand
incumbents who are present on their livings, and seven thousand,
not present, and therefore not doing duty. (Cries of sharae,
shame.) In the first place, let us look at the vow which these men make,
before they get a living. They come before the bishop, and solemnly
declare, that is before they are admitted into holy orders, they solemnly
declare that they believe themselves to he called by the Holy Ghost,
to take upon them the office of ministers of God's word and sacraments,
and the cure of souls. Being admitted into orders, and having got
a living, they enter into a new and specific corapact. Before they
can be inducted they make fresh vows ;- tliat they will be instant

10
ill season, and out of season, that they will do the utmost to keep tbe
terapter out of the fold of Christ ; and in short, that they will be faithful
shepherds, God being their helper, that they may present the flock
of Christ holy and unblamable before the throne of God. Now, it
is hardly conceivable to you and me, who are only common people, it is
hardly conceivable, how men can make vows like these, when they
have no intention to fulfil them, or any part of them. In innumerable
cases they only go to be inducted, and never see their living again
till the day of their death. But it is put beyond all doubt as to
many cases, for no man can be watchful in season and out of season,
at Stoneham and Alresford, at the same tirae. Beresford cannot be
watchful in season, and out of season, in Leicestershire and in St.
Andrews, Holborn, at the same time. But I'll tell you a story about
this man. We know that they do not reside ; we know well that they
break their vows ; we know that they employ a miserable man to perform
the duty, for which they give him a pittance too small for any man
to exist upon, while 'they are theraselves receiving the enormous
revenues of the church. The case which 1 mentioned in the Morning
Herald is this. There appears an advertisement, in which there is
a long list of charitable subscriptions ; for whom, think you ? For
the widow and children of a man who has been the curate of St.
Andrews, Holborn, for eleven years. (Cries of shame.) Gentlemen,
the incumbent of this living has four or five thousand a year. It has
frequently changed its incumbents, therefore ; and two or three of the
men who are now bishops have come from there. Beresford has the
living now, and how came he by it ? How is it that this poor man
has been there for eleven years, doing the work, while Beresford got
the living but a few years ago ? Aye, that's very easy to be seen ; you
know the family to which he belongs. (Cheers.) Well, this Beresford
had a living in Leicester, as I learnt in the following raanner. Last
spring, as I was travelling through that part of the country, my attention
was attracted by a fine parsonage house, and seeing a man digging a
garden, I inquired to whom it belonged. The man drew up to the
side of a hedge, and informed me that it was said to belong to a
parson of the name of Browne, but that it really belonged to a parson
Beresford, who had got a big living in London. (Cheers and laughter.)
I am sure, I little thought that I was at that time coming among my
neighbours. The story is this. Beresford, who had married a daugh
ter of this Browne, and who is related to the lords, and so on, had
this living in Leicestershire, but they of course thought it proper that
he should have the nice large incumbency of St. Andrews, Holborn,
and that the poor curate who had done the work should be left to
starve. However, he could not hold the two, for the righteous laws
of the church forbid any man to hold two or more livings, unless they
be within thirty railes of each other — a pretty good stretch certainly
for a man who has to be watchful in season and out of season in both
of them — (laughter) —and that is thirty miles as the crow flies, so
that if the roads turn about a good deal the distance may be much
greater. However, Beresford could not bring Leicester and London
within thirty miles of each other by any calculation, and he could

11
not, therefore, keep the £1200 a year there — at least, not above
board— and get the £3000, or £4000 here, in addition. Well,
he managed to give his father-in-law the living near Leicester, and
he then took this. (Murmurs, and cries of shame.) But, gentlemen,
that is not all. Beresford has resided in Leicestershire as constantly
ever since as he did before. The father-in-law comes twice a year
to take his tithes ; whether he pockets them or not, no man can say ;
whether he gives them to his son-in-law no one knows ; but between
them they have the living. There is a curate there also, who has
done the duties of the church for many years, at, no doubt, an almost
starving salary. And thus it is throughout the church. Those who
do the work, who lead lives somewhat of piety, at any rate, receive
not the money ; those who do it not receive it, provided they be related
to the aristocracy. The cause is every where the same, whether it
be in the church, in the army, or in the navy. All is grasped by the
aristocracy, and will be, so long as the one hundred and fifty-four
of thera return the majority to what should be the house of coramons.
(Cheers.) Gentlemen, as I said before, we are in this predicament, we have a
very large proportion of the clergy who are non-residents. A great many
of these reside in France ; many at Rorae — what they are doing there, I
cannot tell— (laughter)— but there they are, taking the money from
England— taking the tenth of the produce — travelling about the conti
nent in the most showy manner — and spending the hard earnings of the
people of England among foreigners. But how came they to have the
power of this non-residence ? Gentlemen, I am now going to relate a
piece of turpitude, taken altogether — it would be very bold to say, that
it is unequalled in its enormity— but it is so bad, so flagrant and abomin
able, that it will scarcely be believed. How came it to be permitted to
incumbents not to reside upon their livings ? Oh, this is something so
flagrdiit— so monstrous— that it is scarcely credible. Gentlemen, it was
this. The law that gave the tithes and property to protestant bishops
and priests, did not overlook the circurastance that it was necessary to
bind them to their duty. This it did, by forbidding them to be absent
from their livings, for above a day or two. If a clergyman were absent
from his living— if he resided out of his parsonage house— for thirty
days in the year— even taking it at two or three days now, and two or
three days then— making a total of thirty during the year, for every
thirty days he was so absent, he was liable to a penalty of £20. At the
time that act passed, money was twenty times the value it is now, and
therefore it was pretty severe in its penalty, to compel them to reside.
And, indeed, what are they for, but to reside ? There may be a ques
tion, whether they can do any good in any case, even if they do reside,
but there can be no question, that they can be of no use if they do not
reside. Well, such was the law, and such it continued, till the year 1799,
inclusive. At that time, a gentleman, who was secretary to one of the
bishops, and who saw the monstrousness of non-residence, and the extent
to which it prevailed ; who saw how these parsons set the law at defiance,
and laughed at its power, resolved to put it in force. It only required
this, that a man should be able to provC, that a parson had been absent

12
from his living for so many days in the year. Well, this gentleman,
strange to say, put three or four hundred of them on a string, aud
brought them into the court of King's Bench. The whole rookery was
in an uproar. (Great laughter.) Those of you who have lived in the
country, and may have climbed a rookery, to take the young ones, or the
eo-o-s, know, when you got up, what a clamour there was in a moment ;
caw, caw, caw. (Great laughter.) This happened just as I had returned
from America. I was at that time very loyal, and as I was passing along
the street one day, I met an equally loyal gentleman, who mentioned the
subject to me. " What a rascal," said he, " this man is ; oh, what a
villain !" — " What ?" I said. " What," replied he, " why these informa
tions against the clergy ; the scoundrel has laid informations against three
liundred of them." " Oh what a villain," said I. (Great laughtei .)
" But," added f, recollecting myself, " What have they done? what have
they done ? They must have done something, surely ?" " Oh nothing at
all,'"' replied this loyal man ; " Nothing at all. The villain found a
hitch in the law, and he has attacked them." " Well, but what is it ?" I
again asked, " Surely there must be something." " Oh," said he, it is
only because the scoundrel has found out that the clergy do not reside
upon their livings." (Great laughter.) " Why really," rejoined I, " really,
if these men have sworn to reside, and do not, I think" — for I was very
religious—" If they have sworn to reside, aud do not, I think it is a good
thing that they should be compelled to do so." However, what were
they to do ? What were they to do ? Why, they applied to the judge,
vvho was extreraely well disposed to stretch the law in their favour-^no
man ever raore so than Lord Kenyon — however, he was a judge, and
there were the eyes of the public upon him, and the press ready to
report what he said and did ; and therefore he did not like to say, " I
will not entertain these actions." There the actions lay then ; and what
were the parsons to do? Something must be done. They could not
suffer the thing to go on, that was certain. Why, they had resort> to the
old remedy, (laughter,) when they could not answer us by the press ;
when the pen could not reply to us in 1817, they passed a law to gag
us, and shut us up in dungeons. Yes, the law was the thing. " Oh,
there must be an act of parliament !" Gentlemen, it would have been a
little too bold to pass an ex-post facto law, at once, to quash these infor
mations. Oh, no, there are no ex-post facto laws in England ; — No ;
no ex-post facto laws ; they are contrary to the British constitution, and
they never do any thing against the British constitution ! (Laughter.)
But, gentlemen, though they did not quash these actions, they passed a
_law to suspend them all, until the parliament should meet the next year.
(Loud cries of shame.) Now, if they could do that, in this case, why
not in every other case ? (Cheers.) However, they passed that law, and
there was the informer with all his actions hanging up, all his expenses
having been incurred, until the parliament should determine in the fol-
lowino- year what should be done with them. Besides he might die, and
then there would have been an end to thera. However, it was in anti-
jacobin times, when a man dared not open his lips against the church, or
respecting the conduct of the clergy, and therefore the nation remained
quiet, and affected not to see it. However, the virtuous parliament

13
suspended the actions. There, then, was the informer shut up. His heart,
you know, might relent ; his palm might be touched, and his heart
softened ; or as I said before, he might die soraehow or another ; from
an hereditary cancer, or by sorae means or another. However, as his
perverse nature would have it, he did not die, nor did he relent. He
was alive, and ready to go on when the next parliament met. Well,
what was to be done now ? Why, gentlemen, they suspended them for
anotheryear. (Loud demonstrations of indignation.) I am not relating a
romance ; any person who will look into the Annual Registers for 1801,
1802, and 1803, vrill find all I am stating relative to this flagitious and
infamous piece of business. Well, but this hard-hearted man was still
living ; there was no getting out of the actions, and it would never do to
go on suspending them in this way. What, then, were they to do ?
Why, to quash them altogether, and the next year they passed an act to
quash them all, excepting a few of the earliest, where convictions had
been obtained. (Shame, shame.) In every action, the informer was to
be paid £10, though the penalties of some would have amounted to
three or four hundred ; and the expenses were to be paid as between
client and attorney. This, gentlemen, was the most villainous transac
tion that ever took place. Shall we talk of law, and of the constitution,
after this? Is there a man who will talk of the British constitution
while relating these facts ? But,— " Oh, the parliament that did these
things would not encourage litigious and spiteful informers ; to be sure
not !" No, they would not, though they passed acts to encourage in
formers against hackney coachmen, and publicans, and other hard
working men. Oh, no, they would not give encouragement to a litigious
infoi-mer, to proceed against gentlemen, as though they were vulgar,
common fellows. That-they would not, to be sure.
But they would still make the parsons reside. Aye, that they would.
They would take care of that. Non-residence was not a proper
thing by any means, and in order to make the residence of the clergy
sure, they would pass an act. (Laughter.) Well, in the year 1803,
Sir William Scott, Lord Stowell as they now call him, brought in a
bill for this purpose. This smooth and cunning old gentleman brought
in a bill by which residence was to be enforced ; not by vulgar fellows,
who might bring informations against gentlemen, as if they were
smugglers ; no, but the bishops were to have authority to see that
they resided. (Laughter, and cries of shame.) There was nothing so
natural, it was said, as to put the residence of the clergy under the
care of the right reverend fathers in God. (Laughter.) Well, but
in order that the bishops might not be wholly relied upon, the king
in council was to receive a statement of the residence of the clergy
every year ; and for fear the bishops, and the king, and his council,
might all neglect their duty, the parliament was to have the power
to call for copies of the returns. Well, gentlemen, the parliament

already stated, neariy seven thousand were non-residents.
Now', after the statement of these facts, what pretence will you

14
say they have to retain the property of the church .' (None, none.)
It was given to God and the poor. But leaving out of consideration
the relief of the poor, if it were really applied to the maintenance of
the men who perform the duties ; if we found every incumbent in his
parish, visiting the sick, comforting the broken-hearted, preventing
quarrels, reconciling differences, cautioning the young people, and in
these and other ways promoting the morals and happiness of the
people. If, I say, we saw them constantly engaged in this manner,
we might think the money not altogether thrown away. The morals
of the people are of great value, and if so much care as this were
bestowed upon them, we might refrain from grumbling very loudly
about the expense. But will any man pretend that tbese revenues
should be given to men, seven out of eleven of whom are never
near their livings ; but who spend their time in other parts of the
world? (Cries of shame.)
Gentlemen, when we complain of the immense revenues of the
clergy — there are two or three in Lincolnshire alone, I believe,
worth £3000 a year, and they vary fjom this down to £500 a year
— but when we complain of these immense revenues, they say, " Oh,
to be respected, the clergy must live like gentlemen." Sir. Wm. Scott,
1 recollect, said; " They must visit watering places, and be seen
in London : they must drive their carriages, and look in all respects
like gentlemen, or the people will pay no respect to them, and
religion would suffer for want of that personal respect." Gentlemen,
when you hear one of them talking in this way, take and stop
his mouth. (Laughter.) Say to him, How, then, are the poor
curates, upon £30 a year, or £40 a year, to maintain this respect?
(Cheers.) If Beresford were to tell any body that £4000 or
£5000 a year were necessary to keep up the dignity of the church,
in the person of its ministers, would we not answer h'm, by saying,
" How, then, have you suffered this poor curate of your's to starve
for so many years, he being the only person whom the people
have seen.^" (Great cheering.) I do not say how much a clergyman
ought to have — if it be thought proper for the thing to exist at
all — 1 do not give my opinion about that, nor do I ask you for
your opinions. No ; we are, happily, relieved from stating our
opinions, because the Parliament has stated its opinion. By the
bill of 1813, the two Houses of Parliament and the king, declare
this. — They say, that in future a curate shall receive, according to
the value of the living, from £80 to £l50 ; never less than the
former; never more than the latter. That is enough, said the
parliament and the king, to maintain a clergyman. They raeant,
to be sure, so to maintain him that religion should not suffer, for
that was the intention, and formed part of the bill. That religion
might not suffer, a clergyman, who did the duties of the church,
was not to have less than £80. nor more than £l50 a year. Well,
then, let the whole of the eleven thousand have £l50 a year.
(Cheers.) We will meet them upon their own shewing ; take them
upon their own shewing. We will say, We are church of England
people on these terms. If the thing must continue, you shall take

15
your £150 a year, and in God's name we will take the rest, and apply
it to the national purposes. (Applause.)
As I said before, I would not be for taking this property unless
it were just; but, I think, that unless the facts I have stated be
false, no man can, in his conscience, say that the clergy deserve
that which they receive. (Applause.) When I had the honour
to bring the petition before you, which you have adopted, I stated
that the present Earl of Guildford had the great livinu- of St.
Mary, Southampton, including the adjoining parish of South Stoneham,
the livings of Old Alresford, of New Alresford, and of Medstead ;
a prebend, of Winchester ; and the mastership of St. Cross. — Worth^
I suppose, at least, £6000 or £7000 a year. Gentlemen, if these
revenues, instead of being spent in waste by men who kept starving
curates, were appropriated in maintaining the splendour of the church ;
if there were great munificence kept up ; if our present bishops
did .as William of Wykeham did, in his days, then there would not
he so much ground for complaint. He had immense revenues — forty
or fifty manors, and other estates — producing immense revenues ;
and the present Bishop of Winchester, his successor, has nearly as
much. And how did he expend it ? Why, he built St. Margarets
College, of Winchester ; the College of Eton ; the New College
at Oxford ; and almshouse upon almshouse ; and at last died, I suppose,
¦without a shilling in his pocket. If the Bishops now did this, they
might have something to say about the matter. But is it so ? Why,
the Bishop of Winchester, who was father of the present Earl of
Guildford, gave all these livings to this son, as well as others to
the rest of his family, and at last died worth £300,000 in solid
money — in hard money. There's an economical bishop for you
Aye, he was a somewhat different man from Williara of Wykeham,
and when I relate to you how extremely careful the man was — you
know that he abstained from building colleges and almshouses
— (laughter.) — oh, no, you'll find no Monkites, as you may Wykamites,
I'll warrant you— but when I relate to you how extremely careful
this man, this bishop was, you'll say that he was not only an
example to every tradesman, but also to every cottager in the kingdom.
The see of Winchester has a neble and beautiful park and palace,
at Farnham, and here William of Wykeham resided, and maintained his
munificence. Well, now, gentlemen, from under the ancient gateway
of that palace, this Bishop of Winchester, of whora I am speaking,
this successor of William of Wykeham, from under the gateway of this
ancient palace, sold small beer. (Shouts of laughter.) Gentlemen, this
is no romance, I speak it here in the most solemn manner ; I am
able to prove it by the testimony of persons who bought it, in any
court of justice. Yes, that same Bishop of Winchester, who, after
giving to his son and other branches of his family, livings in his
diocese worth, perhaps, £20,000 a year, died worth £300,000 in
hard money, that same bishop sold small beer to the poor, out
of his palace at Farnham.
Now is it proper that a man like that should scrape together
£300,000, as the bishop of a see, while the people are starving ?

16
(Cries of no, no.) Is it proper he should do that ; and that when
we complain of the weight of the debt, and say we ought not to be
taxed to pay its interest, we should be answered by the cry, " Oh,
you want to' break national faith !" Why, breaking national faith
is another tiling ; but if wc mnst pay this interest, why not resort to
this property to pay it witb ? Here are two or three hundred thousand
families who have nothing else to subsist upon but the interest of
this debt, and the question will be, whether they shall be made
beggars, or whether wo shall resort to this property to make compen
sation to them ? I ara not for beggaring them. There have been many
propositions made by the aristocracy ; and even Sir James Graham
proposed to lop off thirty per cent, at once. He said not a word,
though, about the army, or the navy, or the church. Oh, no ; every
thing they hold is to be their own, and every thing others hold is
to be taken at their pleasure. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I am for a
plan of liquidating this debt, without ruining these families ; but
if the taking of this property so clearly belongs to the nation, and
if it be now so grossly misapplied as I have shewn it to be, why not
take it for the liquidation of this debt ? At a low estimate, it amounts
to EIGHT MILLIONS of pounds sterling. And should eight millions be
squandered away in this manner ? (No, no.) They say the Duke of
Wellington will do something with it ; but he will not sweep the thing
clean, you raay be sure ; any proposition, however, of that kind
will be entitled to our support. (Applause.) I think it will not be
done without a reformed parliament, and therefore I am for signing
the petition, and presenting it to the king. (Great applause !)
Mr, COBBRTT'S LECTURES on the FRENCH REVOLUTION and
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING, No. 1, price 2tl.— 2 to 11 3d. each, may
be had of all Booksellers. The friends of liberty (especially in the country) are
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FRENCH REVOLUTION ! !
TRANSLATION OF THE MARSELLAIS E HYMN BY DR. BOWRING.
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AN EIGHTH
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, AND
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING}
BV WILLiIAM COBBETT,
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, 'Blackfriars Bridge,
on Monday, Sept. 27. •

Gentlemen, When we last met together, in this place, the subject of our
Consideration was the great abuses in the church, arid the justice
there would be in taking that property, called church property,.
and applying it to the liquidation of the iiational debt, or to
any other national purposes. Gentlemen, it is very; curious, that
two or three days, only, before I had the honour to address you
upon this subject, and without my knowing any thing of the
matter, a bishop of the church himself preached a sermon upon
the very same subject — (laughter) — and you will not be surprised^
to hear that he totally difiFered from me, as to the principle on
which we ought to proceed in this matter. (Renewed laughter.)
But the serraon is curious in another respect. It renders it clear
that the clergy, who have a remarkably fine scent, think that
something is going to be done with regard to the temporiilitiea
of the church — things which they value the most, belonging- to
the establishment. Strange, il. Paternoster Bow. — Price Threepence.

It appears that on the 14th of this month, there was vvhat
they call a musical festival, held in the cathedral, at Worcester.
Now, in the first place, let us see what use these gentry make
of the cathedrals— those cathedrals which are called, and which
indeed are, consecrated pUces;ithe ground on which they stand,
and all about them, is called, in the languag-e of the church,
holy ground. They were, you know, consecrated six or seven
hundred years ago. Now, gentlemen, if any man were to go
and: do any thing in that holy ground, or in that consecrated
place ; if he were, in that church, to brawl, or swear, or fight,
or do any thing else of an unseemly character, you know how
severely he would be punislied, in what is called the spiritual
court. Oh, how sanctified the place is then! Well, now gentle
men, think, then, of au exhibition in this cathedral, at which
there were a parcel of hired singers and musicians; a parcel of people
paid for the scraping of strings, or the blowing of wind, or the
squalling of voices ; (great laughter.) men and women who exhibit
themselves for pay. I do not say there is any great harm in that,
simply considered — but who exhibit themselves night after night in a
play-house : and however singularly virtuous they may be, they are
certainly not — at least, their bodies are not — consecrated to the God.
There they were, however, in the holy cathedral, squalling ayvay to the
great delight of the audience, among whom were two bishops ; and
nioney was received at the door for adniission. — Gentlemen, it might
be as well, perhaps, if all were to pay as they entered in at the doors
of the church ; and let those stay away who do not choose to pay.
(Cheering.) Observe, this is a music meeting, bijt under the form of
the church service — of the morning service of the church. A parson
of some sort begins by the prayers, then follow the lessons, then the
psalms ; and instead of the singing psalms, the musicians appear —
these people come forward and play their tunes, and sing their songs.
Then, after that, comes the rest of the service ; and finaUy, a sermon
is preached ; and thus the service goes off. Now, if they can compel
people to stay out of the church, — if they can have the doors of
the church locked, and keepers placed at them with bags of money re
ceived from those who enter — if they can do this on one occasion, why
not on another? (Applause.) The church service, as I have said, is
performed on these occasions ; it is not the mere scraping and blowing

0-f the performers, or the squalling of the singers ; but the parsons read
the service, the bishop preaches a sermon, in short, the church service
is altogether performed. But into the cathedral no one is to go who
does not pay money at the door, the same as at a play-house. Why,
then, object to my proposition ? Let every one pay who goes to
church, and let those not pay who do not choose to go. (Great cheering.)
There appears to be great equity in that. We are not called upon
to pay the play-house people ; that is, only those of us who go to
see them. And why should it not be the same with regard to the
church ? And tliere is this about it, that the more virtuous you are,
the less wickedness you commit during the week, the less necessity
is there for you to go tq church on the Sunday. (Laughter.) Why
should the virtuous man — he who is not a cheat or an extortioner —
who does not commit sins during the week — why should such a man
be called upon to pay for washing the dirty soul of the miser, or the
wicked fellow, who is doing all manner of mischief? Surely, there
would be as much reason to make an old man like me, who never go
to plays, pay for the girls and young men who frequent the play
house. Well, as I said before, after the rest of the service, the bishop
should have preached a sermon, but he being; as I suppose, an old
man, and incapable of an exertion of that sort, borrowed the voice
of his right reverend brother, the bishop of Rochester. The bishop
of Rochester, gentlemen, preached a sermon, and upon that sermon
I mean to trouble you with a short commentary, it being so opposite
to the doctrines I preached here the other night. It was not likely
we should agree, certainly ; but that we should be so very different
in our views of the matter '. What shall we say to that ? (Laughter.)
Gentlemen, you will recollect, that I contended that the property
of the church, as it is called, is public property ; and I proved, too,
that we had a right to take it, and apply it to what national purposes
we pleased. It pleased his lordship, however, to hold a different
sort of doctrine. He began by saying, that the musical festivals
were not at all improper. Some, he remarked, took exception to
them, but at any rate, there could be no barm in them, for Jesus
Christ had himself expressed his approbation of them, in his parable
of the prodigal son. Gentlemen, somewhat different indeed, were the
cases ; very different in fact, were the case-^. Here were a parcel of

luxurious people, living upon the public money, revelling in a cathe
dral, and expressing their applause at hired play-house singers ;
hut in the case of the prodigal son it was a very different matter.
There, the father rejoiced that his profligate son had been reclaimed,
and to show that he entertained no rancorous feeling toward him ;
that all his heart was love and kindness toward him, he received
him back into his family and his bosom with rejoicing. That, gentle
men, was very different to a parcel of tax-eaters listening to hired
play-house singers, and songsters, and wind-blowers. This, then,
is the bishop's logic : — It is a very allowable to have a musical festival
in a cathedral, among a parcel of people living at the public expense,
because our Saviour did not express his disapprobation at the rejoicing
in a farm house, at the return of a prodigal son. (Great laughter.)
That's the bishop's logic, gentlemen ; I hope his theology goes
beyond his logic, or the Lord have mercy upon the souls of the people.
(Much laughter.)
However, the musical festivals are for the purposes of charity.
"Aye," say you, "then, indeed, if the proceeds be applied in this
manner, though they may be a little irregular" — though, indeed on
the same ground we might take away the whole of the church pro
perty — " but if they be for the purposes of charity, we may overlook
the profanation of the thing, and even give it our support." But
what is the nature of the charity, to which the surplus profit is
applied ? Is it to relieve the poor ? Is it to relieve the widows
and orphans of the poor ? Not at all ; but for the widows and
orphans of the clergy of the church of England. And, gentlemen,
the bishop said tliese were objects of great commisseration, and com
passion, and charity; he did not know any persons in the world more
entitled to commisseration, than the widows and orphans of those
who had spent a long life in saving the souls of others.
But, gentlemen, the bishop appears to have been aware, that some
thing was about to be said respecting the church property, and that
some would be ready to ask. Why are not the livings in the church
more equally divided, to prevent the widows and orphans of the
clergy standing in need of charity ? (Cheers.) Therefore it was
that the bishop came to the statement and argument £ am going to
read to you. He remarked, " There were some persons who said
the property ofthe church ought to be equally divided." — They

have smelt out that, then. (Laughter.) The fact is, they hare heard
that the duke of Wellington has a measure of that sort in contem
plation ; but that measure will not satisfy me, if he does not take
away the whole of the property ; and in this case, I am sure the
working clergy wouldbe a great deal better off. The bishop proceeds,
" If all the livings were amalgamated, and the property equally
divided, it would not amount to more than £200 a-year for each
incumbent." Gentlemen, the bishop made a great mistake here ;
for in that case, the whole livings of England and Wales would
not exceed two millions, whereas they amount to more than five
millions. The fact is, the bishop chose to forget the livings of the
bishops, and the livings of the deans, and the livings of the chapters :
— he forgot the immense estates these have, and which make one
half of tbe whole. (Applause.) He forgot that the bishop of Win
chester was the lord of forty manors ; that he had the gift of at least
one hundred and fifty livings ; and that, after giving in his own family,
livings amounting to £26,000 a-year, he could die worth £300,000 !
in solid money. Why, gentlemen, the son of this bishop, the present
earl of Guildford, can hold four livings, as well as the mastership of
St. Cross. Why might not these be divided amongst five now poor
clergymen ; or among four, himself retaining one ? Will any one
pretend to say, that this man should have the five livings, and that the
people should be called upon to make charitable subscriptions for the
poor clergy ? Here's the monstrousness of the thing ; wherever a
nobleman has -a son or a relation in the church, it is heaped upon him
in this way. The earl of Guildford, as I have said, has four livings
in the church, the mastership of St. Cross, and a prebend in Winchester
cathedral; and this bishop pretends, that if all the livings and property
were equally divided, there would be raore widows and orphans than
now, for us to maintain. But, by and by, he touches on the main
thing. He says, " It seemed to be thought by some, that the church
property was given by the state ; this was not the case ; the property
was given by pious persons, to different parishes and establishments
for the support of religion." It was so — and for the poor. It was
given by pious persons — but not to the church of England ; it was
given to the catholic church. But the bishop forgot that. (Laughter.)
Nor was it given for the sole support of the clergy. It was divided,
according to the canon law, ratified by the common law and the

6
statute law— acts of parliament in catholic tiines passed — it was divided
into three parts : tht first, for tbe maintenance of the poor ; and the
priest was to administer relief and charity, with huraility, by his own
hands: the ^eco«rf, to keep the churches in repair and rebuild them;
the third, for the priests to live upon, and to keep open house for the
entertainment of strangers, at the same time. Now, gentlemen, the
revenues of the church are not so applied. There are parish
rates — all are taxed to keep the poor — and there are church rates
besides, of which the poor never receive one penny. All this, the
bishop chose to forget, was given for the support of the catholic reli
gion, having unmarried priests, — and for the relief of the poor ; and all
we have to do here, is to see whether it be properly administered.
Why, gentlemen, it is not properly administered, if a poor curate
have fifty or sixty pounds a year, while the fat rector is receiving three
or four thousand, (cheers.) whicli he carries away from the parish, and
spends among strangers. This is one cause ofthe great poverty ofthe
people in the country ; the money is carried out of the parishes, and
if not spent abroad, is spent in places of dissipation and show. But
the bishop continued, " If they can equalize the church property, they
can equalize all other property, by the same rule." Gentlemen, I have
showed, upon a former occasion, the vast difference between the two.
This property is not pnvate; it is under the complete control of the
legislature, and it has ever been so. But they have no control over
private property. The parliament, some time since, compelled them to
pay the curates a certain salary ; but it could not so interfere in the
business of a tradesman or a farmer. Therefore, the properties are
totally different.
Gentlemen, they smell out that the duke is going to do
something ; but if he attempt any thing short of taking the
whole of the property, be you assured he will not satisfy the
country at large ; particularly the agricultural part of it. Gentle
men, in reply to our complaints about the tithes, they say this,
and a very plausible argument it is : they say this : " The
farraer loses nothing by the tithes, as a farmer, for it is not
he who pays the parson, but the landlord." True, tbe farmer
does not lose by the tithes, as a farmer ; but when he carries
his corn to market they are loaded with the tax, and the consumer
pays it. The farmer does not pay more of the tax than another

raan ; every one bears his share. And here's this g-reat mass
of wealth employed for th« worst of political purposes. Look
at the ' clergy ; do they go about ¦ like humble creatiire's, seeking
out. the si<;k and broken hearted; crouching before their betters,
as they teach us. to do ? Dq we see them following the precepts
of Christ and St. Pauli? No; jiist the contrary. There they
are, strutting .along, looking as if they were our , masters — and;
in jacobin times they made us feel that they were so. They
just do the contrary of what the scriptures say ; and if they
were to say, "Let us take Paul's lepistlesi read what he says,,
and d,o the contrary," they could not do otherwise than they.
now do. (Cheers.) They are told not to be busy-bodies-:-that;
is, not to meddle in secular afiairs— but to stick to the altar..
Do they do this ? No ; they pay very little attention to the
altar, but a great deal to magistrateships. They are the bestj
sportsmen, the best shots in the kigndom, and the best foxr.
hunters. I remember that some years ago, I looked over the.
game certificate list, and for the county, of Hampshire, I .found
twelve out of every thirteen qualified men were parsons. Now,
if it be so throughout — there are about twelve thousand incumbents
— and if twelve out of every thirteen sportsmen in the kingdom,
be a parson, they must have a pretty good share of the game.
(Laughter.) Aye, and nine-tenths of the magisterial game preservers,
are these same parsons,! and for a good reason, too, it seems..
So they cannot find enough to do to take care pf men's souls,
without being everlastingly on the shirk to catch their bodies.
They are the greatest guardians of game in all England. Nine
men out of every ten committed for poaching-, are committed by
them. Gentlemen, the church answers no purpose in the way of
religion ; every body is persuaded of that, who sees the l^rge
streams that gtf into the meeting houses, and the little dribbling
streams of cold, formal persons that pass in at the church door. Every
body, I say, who notices this, must know that there is very little
religion in the church ; and a great deal elsewhere.
¦ Leaving the church for the present, gentlemen, there is another
body of men who come still nearer to our purses — certainly they
cannot well come nearer than the parsons do, for they have us from

8
the time when we first squall, till we are laid under ground. First
we must be chi-istened, then there is baptism, and marriage, and death,
and at each turn there must be a fee. From the first of him to the
last of him, from his birth to his death, man is most completely
under the thumb of the parson. But, as I said, there is a body of
men who touch us still more closely than tbe parsons, just now,
because they are a novelty — I mean THE POLICE, as it is called.
(Loud cheering.)
Gentleraan, never, in the whole of my life-time have I chosen a
topic of declamation because it has been popular. If any man has
read my writings for thirty years, for twenty years, or for whatever
period of time, he has always found me say, this police was intended
for the final subjugation of England. (Applause.) I objected to it
when no man thought it objectionable. I, from the first, objected to
the name of police ; even when Pitt introduced it, for you never heard
the sound of the word police, till after the commencement of the French
revolution. Constable, and justice ofthe peace were the only ofiicers
previously known. Mark the progress of tbe thing. They first had a
police-office at Bow-street, then they spread them all over London, so
that we had even a, Thames-police-ofiice. Then, instead of justice
of the peace, and constable, the only officers, as I said, known to our
ancestors, we had police magistrates, and police officers. These police
magistrates, too, began with jC300 a year ; now they have iC800 ;
so that they have gone on increasing in importance, and in their
weight on the public. But they could not be content with Bow
Street, and the other police offices — which might do their duty well
enough, for any thing I know to the contrary. When this fine
young man of the spinning-jenny became secretary of state, whose
father got the title of a baronet for subscribing £10,000 for
carrying on the war against the atheistical French, — which £10,000
he got out of the sweat and bones of the poor creatures whom he
worked to death. — Well, when this promising youth became secretary
of state— this consistent gentleman, so firm a pillar of the chnrch 
when he became secretary, began to think about approaching a
little closer to the Bourbon police. He wanted to have armed men
in uniform, as they had in Paris, so that if four or five persons
should be conversing together, one of these fellows should come and
stick up against you, and listen to every thing you said ; and as to

9
being in a coffee room, br any such place, without one of these fellows
being about you, that would have been impossible. To approximate
to this beautiful establishment, he invented red waistcoats and blue
coats, as most of you will recollect. There they were, walking about —
they didn't mind your knowing them ; no, they would much rather
that you should, that you might become familiarised to the thing —
aye, and depend upon it, if it had not been for this blow up in Paris,
we should have had them armed by this time. (Cheers.) Gentlemen,
when I first saw these men walking about in their half regimentals,
and with their little bits of sticks, I said " Aye, by and by you'll
see them with full uniform, like soldiers ; you'll have a complete
gendarmarie" — for that's the name I called thera by. (Applause.) In
this way they went on for some tirae ; by and by, improvements
were wanted ; the old police were not efficient, the old watchraen
were not adapted to this age of improvement — this march of mind.
(Laughter.) Gentlemen, that's the very reason which Peel assigned
in the house of parliament — this age of improvement — this march
of mind — required a stricter police. Gentlemen, they are now, every
one of them in uniform. They have a, coat with one frog at the
button hole on the collar, and a number upon it — the soldiers' buttons
were all numbered, I remember that mine was 54 — (laughter) —
their chiefs, observe, are called sargeants of police — sargeants of
police ! and then there are divisions ; such a man of division M,
number so and so. (Cheers.) There they walk about then ; and
gentlemen, I hear that swords are prepared for them ; so that by
and by you'll see them swaggering away with their swords, in full
military array. And gentlemen, had there been no opposition on
the part of the parishes to their expense, and this thing at Paris,
along with it, you would have seen them in full uniform armed with
carbines, and a bayonet at the top of them, within one twelve months.
(Applause.) Gentlemen, I speak thus, from a very intimate knowledge ofthe evil
of them. The parish of Barnes is as quiet and inoffensive a little place
as is to be found in England. There are only twelve hundred persons
in it, including men, women, and children ; and there has not been,
during the three years that I have resided in it, one burglary,
or one robbery worth speaking of ; no assaults to bring persons
before , the magistrate for ; in fact, there has not been, during the

10
whole three years, any thing transpire in it but what constantly
transpires every where. Well, in this little inoffensive parish, where
there cannot be raore thau three hundred adult males, the poor rates
amounted to £l000 a year, aud now it is loaded with an additional
£200 a year for the police force. Some time ago, the overseer
applied to me for the rates, and it being before the time — for they
make up their rates to Michaelraas and Lady-day — I said, " Why,
what do you call for the rates at this time for ?" " Oh sir," said he,
"We are in such distress we know not what to do. This police
eats us up." So that we have now to pay £200 a year, in addition
to the county rates, which are very heavy. In the whole, we pay
£1200 a year, which is called the poor rate, though £200 of it
goes to the police, and £200 to the county rate, to prosecute poachers,
leaving only £800 for the poor ; and, if from that you deduct for
churchwarden's dinners, pipes, and so on, I'll be bound the poor
do not get £500 out of the £1200. (Cheers.)
But I can give you a particular instance of the working of the
thing. In F'ebruary or March last, I sent a man of mine, from
Barnes Elm into town, for sorae hand-bills, which I had had printed to
call a public meeting, to protest against the poor men being compelled to
drag carts loaded with gravel on the roads. I only mention this as a
parenthesis, however : — I sent this man to fetch the bills, and when he
got into ray shop in Fleet-street, he there found a turkey that had
been sent to me from the country — an unpicked turkey, with my name
written on a- piece of paper, or something tied, to the foot. The people
at Fleet-street told the man that he might as well bring the turkey on
¦vvith himp and he, accordingly, threw it over his shoulder and started
on his road. Just before he got to Kensington, one of the police
stops him — had he been a, man with the spirit some have got, he would
have knocked the police-raaii down, a fight might have succeeded, and
one of them have lost their lives ; and in this case, whose would the fault
have been ? (Cheers.) However, he stopped him — " Where are you
going ?" — this was about half-past six in the evening — " What have
you got there ? Where are you going ? Let me look what you have
got there. Whose your master— come along with me ;" and away he
takes the man to the sargeant's guard-house at Knightsbridge. The
sargeant was out, and therefore the man was kept till he came in.
The sargeant when he appeared, untied the parcel, looked over my

11
papers and letters which were in it, and when he had satisfied himself
he let the man go, giving him a certificate that he had detained him
for so long a time, in order to examine him. Gentlemen, is a. nuisance
like that to be tolerated ? (Cheers, and cries of no, no.) You may ask
me why I did not seek for justice. The next day I had to go
into the country, I determined therefore to seek for reparation
when I returned. But what was I to do ? To indict for false
imprisonment, or for an assault ? Or was I to bring an action
against them ? But what satisfaction could I have got ? None ; and
therefore I gave it up.
But, gentlemen, the most humiliating thing is this : tbat an
Englishman who is going along the high road, is to be deemed a
thief, from the circumstance of his having a turkey thrown across
his shoulder. Having a turkey in his possession is prithit facie
eyidence that the Englishman is a thief. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I
have received a letter from America, in which a fact is stated that
I will lay before you. When I left Long Island, I left behind me
a labouring man, whom I had taken into my employment, and, for
whom, having behaved himself well, I procured another place. He
was a common labouring man, and aged about nineteen or twenty,
who had left England for America, to avoid becoraing a pauper.
Well, the master of this man writes me a letter, in which, speaking
of Haines, for that's the man's name, he says, you will be glad to
hear that Haines has saved more than two thousand dollars ; that is,
about £450 sterling. Now, gentlemen, this man was not a more
valuable man — not so valuable a man, indeed — as the man who had
my turkey on his back, and who was stopped by the police. But
how long will this man be in England before he saves £450 ? —
(Cheers, and cries of never, never.) — Aye, and saves it out of his
wages, as a labouring man ! But there can be uo reason why an
English labourer should not be as well off as one in America.
God has given us as good a climate as he has them, and better than
he has them ; and we have as good and fertile land. And as to
the people, they spring from us ; they are the same people. What
then, makes the amazing difference? Only this, that in one case,
the governraent takes three-fourths of the earnings of the people, and
in the other the goveniment takes scarcely any thing at all. (Ap
plause.) But, gentlemen, to return to the police, the way for the parishes to

12
proceed, is to refuse to make a police rate. Let them send to the
overseer, and let the overseer say, " We have got no nioney ; we have
enough to do to keep the poor who are starving." (Cheers.) The
Courier says, that the police is a good thing, because it is giving em.
ploymentto many fine young men, who would otherwise be unemployed
A very pretty excuse, for our giving to these fine young men, to
get them to walk about the streets, three times as much as a labouring-
man in Wiltshire gets for his hard labour ! The Courier forgot one
thing-, which I'll tell you of presently. But here are five or six thou
sand strong young fellows, who ought to be raking mud, filling dung
carts, making holes to put posts in, cleaning the common sewers, or
doing something else of a useful kind, dressed up in their half regi
mentals, and strutting about the streets — not to terrify us by their
appearance, for God knows there is nothing- very terrific in their aspect
yet. (Laughter and cheers.) But what the Courier says, is the doc
trine of Canning, which he broached when some man in the house had
the spirit to say, they were wasting the public money in times of great
distress, by laying out millions in building new palaces, while the old
ones were not occupied, but falling into decay. In answer to this.
Canning said — and raark the answer, of this statesraan, for if yon do,
you'll never be humbugged with the name of statesman again — Canning
said, in answer to this, and with all the naivete imaginable — " The
honourable gentleman mistook the matter ; times of distress were the
proper times to undertake such works in, because they gave employ
ment to a great number of persons." (Laughter.) He forgot, that before
he could give men employment in this way, he must get the money,
and that that raust be collected from somebody. He forgot, that a tax
was to be laid on the whole country to build these palaces. He
forgot, or perhaps he really did not know, like the present French
minister of finance, who is for " relieving coramerce' — that is,^ the
loan jobbers and money lenders — by lending them two and a half
millions sterling — seventy-six millions of francs. Where is he to get
it ? What! is he going to raise it by laying taxes on the people ? No ;
he is going to borrow it ; and so the people will only have to pay the
interest of the debt created to oblige the jews and the jobbers, (cheers.)
by keeping up the price of stocks. This baron Louis, is just such
another man, in point of mind, as Canning was. So it is with the
Courier: the police is a good thing, because it gives employment to a
number of fine young fellows ; that is, it is proper to put a heavy tax

13
on the bread, and beer, and sugar, and candles, and every thing else,
consumed by the men who have to work, for the purpose of dressing
up a lot of fellows in uniforms to strut about the streets. (Applause.)
There was another subject which I did intend to mention, and
which, if I have not already exhausted your patience, I will just
mention, (cries of go on, go on.) I mean another great mass of pro
perty, called CROWN LANDS. (Applause.) They treat these crown
lands as nothing, and God knows, they do not make thera produce
much for the nation. Gentlemen, it should be recollected, that the
Kings of England, formerly, required no taxes to support them ; they
had landed estates of their own — their own, as much as those of any
lord or gentleman in England now. Out of these estates they paid
their own judges, and every thing else ; and they even carried on some
of the wars without laying any tax upon the people. England, in fact,
knew nothing of any tax, but for some special purpose ; the kings
maintained their government out of their own estates. Now, mark the
encroachments ofthe aristocracy on this property; it is quite curious
in its way. First, they began by lopping off a little, and so they went
on, till this family came to the throne, and then they made a sweep at
the mass. They said, the king did not know how to manage his
estates ; how to take care of them ; he was imposed upon, and robbed
in all sorts of ways ; and therefore they would take away these trou
blesome estates, and hand them over to the public, and give the king
a fixed salary instead. This they did, and made the king a pensioner ;
and the king now has always the odium of being represented as
spending large sums of money raised out of the taxes. " Oh, the
civil list ' it is monstrous." Gentlemen, be you assured, that however
large is the civil list, the king and his family get but a small portion
of it ; the aristocracy, who created it, take the greater part of it to
themselves. They are like the priests of Bel and the Dragon ; they
put the offerings of food on the altar, but at night they go in by a back
door, and devour it themselves. (Great laughter.) Well, they took this
property into their own hands, but not being able to agree about the di
vision of it, they passed a law, that no more of it should be granted away
without an act of the legislature. Aye, but they had another way of doing
it ; it could be let, and for good long leases, too— fifty, sixty, or
a hundred years. I recollect some years ago, looking over the
account of these crown lands, which makes a quarto book, two or
three inches thick, and I know the impression it made on my mind.

14
I'll give you a specimen. I some years ago lived in one of these houses,
belonging to the crown, in Pall Mall. Now, I thought I should like
to see how much my house paid a-year. Well, I looked into the list, and
found it paid an annual rent of £15. Gentlemen, they made me
pay a rent of £300. Marlborough house is a house of this description.
Before the poor queen died, she was bargaining for this house with
the prince of Saxe-Cobourg, who rented it of the duke of Marlborough,
who rents it of us. Well, Cobourg gave £3000 a-year for it to the
duke of Marlborough, and he, just ¦wishing to turn the penny,
offered it for £3500 a-year. (Laughter.) Gentlemen, for that
house the duke of Marlborough pays £46 a-year. (Loud cries
of shame, shame.) The duke of Buckingham is much on the same
terms ; and so it is from one end of the thing to the other. They
have a way of dividing it between them. There wants a restitu
tion of that property. " Aye, but you can't get that !" Gentlemen,
only begin. " Why, there's a lease, man ! and on parchment too ;
and would you break a bargain ? would you break a bargain ?"
Gentlemen, did you never hear of a bargain being broken ? File a
bill in chancery, and he shall be a poor fellow of a lawyer who does
not get back estates granted on teims like these. (Applause,) Do
you not see every day, that if an estate be sold in this way, if ithere
be a collusion between the parties, the bargain is set aside ? The
bargain here would be quashed immediately, to be sure ; what reason
can there be for their keeping the estates, upon terms that have been
fraudulently made. None. There is law for them, or there should
be law for thera, as well as for other people. That is an immense mass
of property, which, if sold for its worth, would pay off a great
portion of the national debt, and prevent many a worthy family from
being beggared. But they never talk of tbat ; they would take from
the fundholder, and they would do it to-morrow, if they were not
just now afraid of the consequences. This property rests on no law,
but grants from the crown, and if they want any law for taking it
back, I, though but an indifferent lawyer, will immediately find them
,forty precedents for doing so. This will never be done, however,
till we have such a parliament as shall represent the whole nation,
and therefore we ought to do every thing we can to get such a
parliament. They say, " Oh, what good would a reformed par
liament do ?" " Oh, what good would a reformed parliament do ?"
Why, uo good, to bo sure, if we wo were to go on as wo do

15
now ; but cau any man believe that such a parliament would sit
for a single month, without inquiring into the nature of these grants,
snd adopting a measure for the resumption of the property ?
What right have the aristocracy to it, more than we have? Their
earnings ! Their earnings ! What have they ever earned ? Look at
what they have derived from their ancestors, and you will find it
to be a mere bagatelle. It is public property that they have got,
and property procured by taxes they have taken out of our pockets.
(Cheering.) They have added field to field, and house to house,
till they have got so immensely rich as they now are. Do you not
think a reformed parliament would inquire how they got it ? Look
at lord Grenville, for instance, he has received, out of one sinecure
alone, more than £200,000. Shall he not be called upon to be so
good as to consider whether, coming to his conscience, he ought not to
refund a little of that money? (Loud applause.) Would not a reformed
parliaraent put that question to him ? " But I have no money ; I have
laid it all out in estates." Then, ray lord, you could, perhaps, sell
an estate to keep us out of our difficulties ? (Renewed applause.)
I hope it will be understood, clearly, that I wish to do no act of
injustice to any body. I am not foi taking from any man his
estate, which he inherits fairly from his father, or has acquired by
his labour or skill. No, I am not for confiscating, or doing any thing
of that sort ; and the people of England, will, I am sure, always
be against it. (Cheers.) I am not for altering the form of government
either ; but if it became a question whether England should perish, or
be degraded, and utterly sink, and so become of no conseqiience in
the world ; or whether the government should be altered, certainly, in
that case there would be no hesitation as to what I should prefer.
(Cheers.) But I do not wish to overturn any thing that is established,
and if we be compelled to do it at last, the fault will not be in me.
Gentlemen, there is nothing which tends more effectually to keep
the people down, than persuading them that they are better off than
the'i^ncestors were. That is the most monstrous delusion practised
in this country, " Oh, what an impiovement in the age !" There is
libthing so untrue as that. We have it on the best authority, in the
writings of Fortesque, that four hundred years since, the people were
well fed, well clothed, and well housed ; in fact, that they were
superior to any country in the world. His words are :— "The inhabi
tants of England are rich in gold, silver, and in all the necessarict

16
and conveniences of life. They drink no water, unless at certain times,
upon a religious score, and by way of doing penance. They are fko in
great abundance with all sorts of flesh and fish, of which they have
plenty every where; they are clothed throughout in good woollens ; their
bedding and other furniture in their houses are of wool, and tbat in
great store. They are also well provided with all sorts of house
hold goods, and necessary implements of husbandry. EVERY
ONE, according to his rank, hath all things fVHiCB conduce
to make life easy and happy .'" This book cannot lie. Is that
the situation of the people now, however? You know it is not. But
the beggarly account of the French which he gives, is exactly that of
the people of England now. They were the most miserable set of
creatures you can imagine. They scarcely ever tasted flesh, an egg
was a luxury, and they could, in fact, scarcely procure sufficient bread
to subsist upon. Now, the painful thing with me is, that this
description, is that of the people of England at present.
Now, gentlemen, it has always been my opinion, that it is every
man's duty to endeavour to leave his country as well as he found it.
I have not long — no, I will not say I have not long to live ; I will
hope I have ; — but I am on the wrong side of threescore, and it is
therefore time that I should think what I can do, in order that my
country may be left as good as I found it. I knowit is not so good
now, by a great deal ; and I believe there is no possibility of bringing
it to that, without procuring a reform in the parliament. The Courier
newspaper is letting out the designs ofthe duke, to give us a reform —
a reforra on rational principles ; a modeiate, well-timed, and gradual
reform. He is going to begin, by giving- us members for nine or ten
towns, and, perhaps, taking thera away from such places as Gatton,
Wednesbury, Old Sarum, and such like. But the duke does not like
the ballot. Well, then, gentlemen such a scheme will not ^T '.llif''"' "f
no effect, but it will not be carried into effect at all, Befor^t can be,
the people will so clamor for something more effectual, that after tw^

er iWK
, iWcn,

or three attempts, they will let it fall, and do nothing. Well, I
this brings us back again — if we make our prayers heard, we shall
obtain an answer — we shall have our wishes. We shall have it, and all
will be tranquil. We shall have no violence, no bloodshed, nor any
thing of that sort. That it may be so, should be tbe fervent wish of all.
Mr. Cobbett sat down amidst iramense cheering, after giving
notice that he should lecture again on Thursday evening.
Johnston, Printer, Liverpool Street, Bishopsgate. 

TALLEYRAND s MISSION TO ENGLAND!

A NINTH
LECTURE
ON THE
FRENCH REVOLUTION, Aun
ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BV WILLIAIVC COBBSTT.
Delivered in the Theatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge on
Thursday, Sept. 30ih.

Gentlemen, Agreeably to my previous notification, I have to address yow this
evening on the subject of Talleyrand's mission to England. It may
seem a little odd, that .we should trouble ourselves about an ambas
sador sent from another country ; but, gentlemen, here is a man who
will have some concern with our government ; and as the motive for
sending him here, and the purpose to which his mission may be
applied, may not be well known to every young man, it may be of
great use to make the matter known. Gentlemen, I should congratu
late you on the success of the Belgians. (Loud and long continued
applause.) There the contest has been of the true, genuine, cha
racter- -a battle of the tax-payers against the tax-eaters ; and the tax
payers have prevailed (Renewed applause.) However, I shall have
Strange, 11, Paternoster Row. — Price Threepence.

to come to that before I conclude ; the mission of Talleyrand being
closely connected with the intended fate of these .Belgians., We had
to expect, when we heard of a revolution which had expelled the
tyrants from France ; when we heard that the common people had
risen and put down the hired soldiers,— the mercenary Swiss ; — when
we heard this, we had a right to expect that there would be a really
free government established ; that the people would choose their own
representatives in the charaber of deputies, as they had a right to do;
and that there would surely be an end to that monstrous waste of
money, which the royal family of France had been in the habit of
making. It appears so to have been raanaged, however, that the
people were to be cozened by the tri-coloured flag ; and as yet, they
have gained nothing but the flag. The' taxes all continue the same,
and an asserably got together, without being regularly convened, took
upon themselves to make a new royal faraily ; and that, too, without
even consulting the people. This seemed very strange ; very strange,
that there should have been a king made, without the people, who had
gained the victory, ever having been consulted. Gentlemen, the
nobility, and gentry, and merchants, and loan-jobbers, had nothing
to do with winning the victory ; that was won by the working people.
(Cheers.), It seems strange, then, that they were not to be consulted ;
that no man was to be a representative unless he were thirty-five years
of age ; and had a great fortune. It does seem strange, that only
eighty thousand men, out of eight millions entitled to that right,
— that eighty thousand only were to vote for the deputies. But when I
heard of the appointment of Talleyrand ; when I heard that he was
appointed to come here, where the people had shown so much sym
pathy for the French, and whose deputations had been received with
Such warmth of feeling at Paris ; — when I heard that Talleyrand was
sent in answer to our good wishes and applause, I could not longer
doubt the views of the men in power there. Let us not be flatterers
of ourselves ; let us not deceive ourselves, — the French will never rest
till they get a real reform. Depend upon that. (Applause.) They
are now carrying on the struggle, and they will have a second revo
lution to make, before they have effected what they had in view before
they made the last one. Why is Talleyrand coming here ? Why is
this man coming here ? Why is he being sent to England ? Gen
tlemen, if you want to know the character and intentions of the pre-

sent rulers in Prance, you should read the history of Talleyrand.
You will'then say, after yoa' have become acquainted, with his liistory,
whether Talleyrand is the sort of man that ought to be sent here by
the Sovereigri'people. ' *.,;.¦ i
iGentlemch, who is it that has shown fri^3iKhin''f&r the French ?
Who applauded the overthrow of tyranny in Prance? 'The PEOPLE of
England. (Cheers.) The farmers, tradesmen, labourers, and journey
men of England. Not the mayors of towiis, not the nobility, not the
gentry. All these kept aloof, and showed no friendship at all for the
pfeople of France. We had a ri^ht to believe, then, thitt such an
ambassador would' be sent to England, that we could have gone out
to meet with applause. We had a right to anticipate stich an ambas
sador, as two thousand people could have gone' out to Shooter's-hill,
to conduct into town with the tri-coloured flag. Gentlemen, our govern
ment were aware of that. They were aware of Ufat ; and therefore
they wished for' no ambassador of that sort, but for owe of a totally
-different- character. And is it not very sing-ular, that the new French
government hiave exactly the same taste ? Gentlemen, th-ey have sertt
us the grand-chamberlain of Charles X. (Laughter.)
Kow for the history of this Talleyrand. Let us not be amused by
names; let us not tremble at names — Prince TaUeyrand 1 We have
seen enough of Pirinces, not to be imposed upon by the pronouncing of
Iheir naraes.
This Talleyrand' was born among the nobility of France — the ancient
nobility of France. Like the sons of sorae of our nobility, our
aristoCrsicy, he ¦w'as destined for the church ; and became a priest, and
necessarily took all the oaths which a priest is required to take ; —
the oaths of celibacy,' of obedience to the Pope— in fact, of a life bf
attachriient to the church, and the maintenance of its saCred" property.
By arid by, like the sons of our nobility a:Uo, he was made a bishop-
doubtless, for his" piety, as in their case also. (Laughter.) When the
French revolution broke out, Talleyrand appears to have thought that
it was safer to be something in addition to a priest. He therefore threw
off his dress as a priest and a bishop, became a layman, and a member of
•the assemblies in France— at least, he becarae a member of the consti
tuent assembly. Asa member of that assembly, he helped to make
laws to take away the property of the church, and to annul the ais-
thorit'y of the pope ; to demolish that church which he had solemnly

sworn to maintain with all his might ; he abandoned his vow of
celibacy, and in short, every thing else which he had sworn to
o ns6rv6 I should observe here, that Talleyrand was bishop of Autun, and
it is curious enough, that in his cathedral, the canon who was the next
personage to himself, was Baron Louis, who is now minister of finance
in France. Gentlemen, this is a very curious thing. Talleyrand, was
after some time driven out of France by the republicans. He took
shelter in England, whence they banished him for his meddling dispo
sition. He was then obliged to take refuge in the United States of
America, where I had the pleasure to know him. (Laughter.) After
that he returned to France, and became, under Buonaparte, secretary
of state for foreign affairs, which he retained while Buonaparte was
chief consul, and till he was dethroned, — for it has always been a
maxim with Tall»rand, never to stick to any one longer than he is
prosperous. He was secretary of state to Napolean, at the time the
Duke- D'Enghein was taken, tried, and put to death, for treason
against the republic. Yes ; this very Talleyrand signed the order for
the arrest of the Duke, and also that for putting him to death. At a
subsequent period, he signed the order for the arrest, and putting to
death of Marshal Ney. (Loud expressions of indignation.) He was
secretary for foreign affairs at the time when our government was
charged with plotting the death of Napoleon — with employing Mr.
Drake, ivho was then ambassador, and others, with plotting the death
of Napoleon. He accused them publicly, under his own hand, of hiring
persons to assassinate Napoleon. Whether he did this falsely or not,
is not for you and I to say. They did thus plot, however, or they did
not. If he accused them falsely, then what does he deserve at their
hands ? If truly, then what are they ? (Loud cheering.) Yet, there
they are together ; and a curious matter it is. Drake is still alive, and
receiving a pension ; so that he and Talleyrand may yet drink a glass
together. You may be quite assured, I would not state this, if I were
not sure it was true. Within these few days, I have again read over
the documents, and I repeat, that Talleyrand, publicly accused our
government of plotting to assassinate Buonaparte ; and he also charged
them with having contrived the assassination of the Emperor Paul.
It is very curious, then, to see him here. The French papers sav
he came here because it was the desire of our government who like

him so well. (Laughter.) Oh, how soon they have composed their
differences! Oh, they don't bear the least resentment in the world
No. gentlemen, they never do, except it be against the people. (Ap
plause.) Well, Napoleon having failed in his enterprise-being
deposed-Talleyrand, as secretary of state, was, to be sure, sent into
exile wit^him;] or at least, he fell into disgrace! . Louis XVIII. to
be sure, would never have any thing to do with him! On the con
trary, Talleyrand at once became the prime minister of Louis XVIII.
Yes, he saw his master go into exile to Elba, and he became prime
minister and secretary of state to Louis XVIIL, and what is curious
enough, he had that same Baron Louis as the second minister under
him, who is now finance minister under the citizen king. (Great
laughter.) Now, put all these circumstances together, ahd you will be able to
judge of the sincerity of those who sent Talleyrand here, and of those
who were so anxious to receive him.
At the time when Napoleon returned to France, in 1815, Tal
leyrand was ambassador at Vienna, and there, with the arabassadors
of the other powers, he was ready to issue a declara;tion against him.
He signed that declaration, went back into France, secured by the
bayonets of the enemies of France, and agaiit became prime minister
of Louis XVIII. He was therein 1815, and negociated the treaty
by which France was corapelled to pay a tribute to those who , had
forced the Bourbons back upon the people ; he signed the bargain by
which the museums were stript ; and he signed the paper for the arrest
and putting to death of Marshal Ney. He did all these things, and
at last became grand chamberlain — the highest oflSce that could be
bestowed upon him — in the household of Charles X,
¦ Gentlemen, this is thatTallyrand whom France — regenerated France,
as they call her — where the people have gained a victory ; — this is that
Talleyrand — and curious enough it is — who is back again in the
confidence of the new government, and the man of all others chosen
to represent France, in this the raost important country of the earth.
Yet, here he is.
Gentlemen, Talleyrand is not here for nothing, be you assured. In
the first place, this new governraent of France, with the citizen king
at its head, has not abolished the abominable system of passports. No

man can go to France without a passport, under tbe hand of this
Talleyrand. JIark that. This Talleyrand— this faithful minister ; this
priest, bishop, citizen, all manner of things ; this servant pf the
Bourbons, of the Republic, of Napoleon — this man is now the servant of
the citizen king, and has to.write down the name of every man before he
can go to France. If I chose to go to France, for instance, J niust go
tbe day before, and leave my name there ; I must state the place where
I was born, my height, the colour of my hair and my eyes, my
Complexion, and every thing else — Talleyrand must know every thing
about me, before lean be permitted to go. You can see ,the object of
having such a man here, if only for tbat. He knows, to be sure, what
intelligence to give there; and while Talleyrand is ip England, I vvill
be there too. (Laughter and cheers.) I'll not trust myself under the
passport of Tallyrartd, be you assured. This is one of his powers.
Then he is here to carry on negociations. There's his dining with
the boroughmongers ; they talk together as. to how they shall manage
irtatters, so that the example of France shall not have any effect on the
people of England. The chief object, however, with thera, is, to
contrive how the banks shall pull together ; how they shall pfevent the
sovereigns being at a premium at Dieppe, and along the coast. But,
gentlemen, that will defeat even Talleyrand. (Laughter.)
Mark the steps first taken after the people had effected the expulsion of
the tyrants. The press was the great object of admiration. Oh, there was
nothing like the freedom' of the press 1 and to ensure that, faith! they
gave places to all the principal writers in the public journals. ,In
proportion to the number of copies, that each of thera issued, they
gave places and employments to a number of persons connected with
thera. This does not seera like the liberty of the press ; but very
much like enlisting the press in the service of the government. Oh
yes, they are very desirous to keep things quiet, to prevent their
going too far ; from having a republic. The people had got the tri-
coloured flagi and with that they ought to have been satisfied, to be sure.
(Laughter.) Gentleraen, the French have taken this, as well as every
thing else thatis bad, from our own country; as we shall see if we
take a review of our own press. There are our four principal morning
papers. The Morning Chronicle, which is the least corrupted that }
know of — how is that ? Mr. Perry, a very worthy man, conducted it for

many years, but when the whigs came into power he got a place of
£1200 a-year, which place he held as long as they continued in power.
He got something, also, for a son or two in India — he had a perfect
right to send them there, for anything I knowto the contrary — raind ; —
and the principal editor, Spankie, became a recorder in a court in India,
and he is now a Serjeant at law. So that they are doing nothing new
in France. Now, as to the Morning Herald. While this paper was in
the hand of Mr. Thwaites, who was one of the most honourable raen I
ever knew, I believe it was about as good a paper as any of the
rest. But the Herald was the property of Bate Dudley —the very
notorious parson. Bate Dudley, Well, this parson Bate Dudley owed
Mr. Thwaites' father a large sum of money, and having nothing to pay
hira with, he gave him the Morning Herald. But, did parson Bate
Dudley get nothing more for the Herald ? Oh, yes. Ev,ery body
wondered how it could be, that one of the first acts of the Prince
Regent, was to make parson Bate Dudley a Baronet. For many,
years he had been the talk of the town, and all at once he became a
baronet. Aye, and he got something- more than this, for in addition
to a large living in England, he obtained two or three in Ireland,
with an archdeaconry. Why, to be sure, the reason was very plain :
the paper was always at the devotion of the prince ; he had in
serted whatever the prince wished, and what he did not wish inserted
was left out. (Laughter.) Now for the Post. I dare say tbe paper
is very honourably conducted now ; I know nothing of it, but I dare
say that is the case. (Laughter.) But there was a time when the
Post was the property of one Benjafield. Now, this Benj afield was
disposed, if he did any thing in the matter, to take the side against a
certain lady who was intimately connected with Carlton House. It was
very desirable, however, that he should do no such thing, and
therefore Benjafield sold the paper to the prince of Wales' cook,
(great laughter) for an annuity, which I dare say he receives to this
day, and which made part of the prince of Wales' debts that the
nation had to payu Gentlemen, this is a fact not to be stated lightly,
for Benjafield is now a magistrate in Suffolk. Some of you may
recollect that Wheeble raentioned this anecdote, and Benjafield
brought an action against him for it. Wheeble defended the state
ment, and brought the earl of Moira into court, who established its
truth. Gentlemen, this is a fact. The magistrates of Suffolk refused

8
to bit upon the bench with Benjafield, until that fact had been denied ;
he therefore brought his action against Wheeble, who by the evidence
of lord Moira verified the statement. That is what the Post was ;
I dare say it is very pure now, but that is what it was.
Let us next come to the Times. (Considerable laughter.) Gentle
men, this is as flagrant a trading concern as ever came into the world.
No steam boat, no road waggon, no stage coach, not any thing can be
more purely or exclusively a trading concern than is that paper.
(Cheers.) Itis divided into shares, like a canal or a road. The shares are
in the raarket, and are bought and sold like any thing else ; it may have
scrip and omnium for what I know. It is stated, and I believe it to be
true, that at the time of the queen's trial, the acting proprietors met,
and debated which side they should take. The majority were for the
side of the queen ; they took that side, and laboured very successfully,
and very profitably for themselves. (Cheers.) I remeraber that
doctor O'Meara accused them, too, of receiving money from an agent
of Louis XVIII. They denied it, and wrote for a denial to the
secretary of the French king. The secretary wrote an answer that
was any thing but a denial. Walters, who was long the conductor of
that paper, accused Stewart of some monstrous thing ; Stewart
accused him of something equally monstrous. This is in print. They
called each other something worse than rogues ; but at last, finding,
as I suppose, that they had gone rather too far, they made it up, and
were all right again. One of these proprietors is a magistrate of
Oxfordshire, another a justice of the peace for Berkshire, and Stewart,
who was a tailor's trotter, originally, was lately high sherriff of his
county. Aye, you see our fellows know how to do it better than they do
in France. When the French have got a little more experience, they
will not give the editors and proprietors of papers places in this way, in
the eyes of the public. Oh, no ; they will not speak to them themselves ;
but they will speak to an under secretary, who shall speak to a
confidential clerk, who shall speak to a clerk, who shall speak to them.
(Great laughter.) There they speak to them themselves, directly ;
and give them their places at once and openly. Gentlemen, we do the
thing better than that. (Cheers.)
But there is another description of persons connected with the press, and
persons who take a considerable part in it. 1 mean the parsons. When

I came from America, about thirty years ago, there were four parsons
who had just written each a pamphlet, in praise of Pitt and the war.
One was Brand, who had a living in Suffolk, and though it was
contrary to all the rules of the church, he had the rich living of St.
George's, in the Borough, added to it. You know what a great living
that is ; and it was given to this man, as a reward for writing his
pamphlet. Ireland was another of them. He wrote a paraphlet, and was
therefore promoted to the great living of Croydon ; and he is now Dean
of Westminster. Beake wrote another pamphlet ; and he is now Dean of
Bristol, and has two or three livings besides. But there was one Marsh,
who wrote a better pamphlet than the rest — that is, it was bigger —
(laughter) — it was a larger pamphlet than the others, and was called
" French Aggression." He is made a bishop, and has had a pension
of upwards of £700 a-year, from that day to this. Gentlemen, this is
the way in which our press is managed ; so that, perhaps, we cannot
quarrel much, nor find much fault with the new French government.
But we did not expect this from these people : we did not ex
pect that after the people — the honest, working people —had made a
revolution, one of the objects of which was to secure the freedom of
the press ; we did not expect, after this, that the press would be
immediately suborned, by giving places to its conductors. (Applause.)
Gentlemen, amongst other purposes, for which Talleyrand is here,
IS one to contrive with our governraent how they .shall raanage so as
to prevent the moveraents of the Spaniards, and also how they shall
prevent the King of the Netherlands from being disturbed. These, I
dare say, are his principal objects. They have already forbidden the
Spanish emigrants from entering Spain, to make such a change there
as ought to have been made long ago- — (loud and long continued cheer
ing) — and it does seem so unnatural, that the French government
should compel those emigrants, who were collecting on the frontiers, to
disperse. Their object could be no other than to prevent them from
entering into Spain. But the other great object is to prevent the
people of Belgium from shaking off the house of Orange. You should
be reminded, gentlemen, that after the battle of Waterloo, Lord Cas
tlereagh, that amiable person, and able statesman, sat down at a table
with the other ministers of the holy allies, with a paper and pencil,
and marked out Europe, in just such a way as they intended it should

10
remain for ever ; forming a scheme by which they hoped it might be
rendered irapossible for the people ever to shake off the yoke and au
thority of any of the despots. Among other things, one of their
priraary objects was to make a kingdom out of an union of Belgium
with Holland. This was quite a new thing ; for Belgium was no
more connected with Holland, than England is with France, It is
true, the boundary was only an imaginary line ; but it is equally true,
that the people were separated by the most deeply rooted antipathies.
They spoke a different language, and they hated one another to such
a degree, that it is impossible to do justice to it by any description.
Yet these two people were united as one kingdom by the treaty of
Vienna ; and in addition to this, they were saddled with a debt, and
enormous taxes — not surpassing ours, to be sure, — but enormous
taxes, and a debt, not of their own contracting, and not contracted by
any one having a just sway over thera. The French, during the re
volution, connected Belgium with France, as it should be now. Well,
when the countries were so connected, they paid in Belgium just
twenty pence in taxes, where they now pay one hundred and twenty.
There's the difference — six times as much. I believe, in fact, that the
difference is greater than this. And it should be recollected, that
these Belgians are not a mere handful of men ; not like the nation of
Saxe-Cobourg, that is, about a quarter as big as the county of Kent ;
not like the kingdom of Hanover, a state nearly as large as Lan
cashire ; — but it is a nation of between three and four raillions of
men, possessing one of the finest countries in the world, and having a
population the most industrious of any upon the face of the earth —
one of the raost honest, and the bravest people on the face of the
earth. They have been, so in all times. When they were subject to
Spain, and to Germany, they cost their masters more to subdue them,
than all their other wars put together. This is not a nation, then, to
be handed over like so many swine or sheep ; but they did so hand
thifm over to this king. They put a crown on his head, and gave him
thise people, just is if they were the stock on a farm. Their old
master, who had borrowed money of some Jews and jobbers, said, " Here,
you shall have this people, if you will make them pay the debt." He
did undertake that, and this is the cause of the numerous taxes by
which they have been pressed down. This, then, was literallv a war

11

between the tax-payers and the tax-eaters. Th,e one said, " You shall
pay;" the other ,said, "We will not." And then come the blows.
The Belgians are not to be considered as a mob taking up arms, they
know not why ; but as a people contending for their rights and their
property. They say this, " We and our children will not continue to
give up the fruits of our labour to the idlers ; we will fight you first —
(great cheering) — we had better perish than continue to submit to
this." Well, then, Talleyrand is here for the purpose of contriving
the means of compelling these Belgians to submit to the King of Hol
land, who has no more right to be their king, than any other man in
the earth. But observe this, we are bound by treaty, to guarantee to
this king of the Netherlands, all these dominions in Belgium. That
was the bargain. Well, then, we shall see whether they will adhere to
the bargain. They saw that battle of Waterloo fought in their country
— the place where it was 'fought, is only about ten miles from Brus
sels, and is surrounded by tbeir towns. This field was to be the grave
of their freedom ; and they were compelled to decorate it with a
mound, a hundred feet high ; they were compelled to put up the image
of a lion thirty feet high, to celebrate the victory by which they were
destined for slavery. There it stands, and I pray to God that it may
not stand there on this day twelve raonths. (Long continued applause.)
In the same field, stands a monument to coraraeraorate the valour of
the Prussians, at the battle of Waterloo, and another to commemorate
that of the Hanoverians. Gentlemen, one fragment of them will not,
I trust, stand, if I have the pleasure to meet you here again in De
cember. (Loud cheering.) What would our feelings be, if we were
overrun by the French, and a parcel of other nations — if we were sub
dued by them, and were compelled to raise a memorial of that, on
Salisbury plain ? And must we not be destitute of every feeling, and
of every sentiment of justice, if we do not wish tbese Belgians success
¦ — complete success !
Gentlemen, I would have you to know, that the collection which
Sir Thomas Beevor began at the London Tavern, by giving £50,
has amounted to £161, to which I have added by collections here
another £50 i making the money in the hands of Sir Thomas Beevor,
on account of the wives and children of those who were slain or
wounded inP aris, £211, and some odd shillings. (Applause.) On the

12
first of November, I intend to close this account. In the meantime,
I purpose to go through Kent and Sussex, to deliver similar lectures
to those you have done me the honour to listen to, the proceeds of
which, after paying my expenses — so that I may be nothing out of
pocket, for that I cannot afford — together with what I may collect,
if I have the pleasure to meet you here again in the beginning of the
winter, I propose to appropriate to the widows and orphans of the
brave fellows who may fall in Belgium. (Great applause.) To the
far greater part of you two-pence is very little ; it can at any rate
be spared ; they want it more than you do, and even if it be something
of a sacrifice, you will give it on an occasion like this. (Cheers.) If
in this way, and I will open a subscription at ray shop also, if in
this way, we can raise .^50 or £60, we will transrait it to Brussels
in some public manner ; and this, I think, will be the most effectual
manner of expressing the feelings of the people of England. General
La Fayette told Sir Thomas Beevor, that they did not so much care
for the raoney ; it was the friendship of tbe people of England they
valued; and they set a high value upon the subscriptions, as an
expression of their friendship. The greater the number of contri
butors the better therefore, and I have put down on tbe subscription list
for the French, £50, from six thousand working men of England,
by the hands of Mr. Cobbett. (Cheers.) It is on account of this, that
is to contribute to this object, much more than to listen to any thing
I may have to say, that I have had the pleasure to see so many
persons attend these lectures. At any rate, it has enabled us to spend
some few hours in not a very disagreeable manner, and though some
should differ from me, in some things, as no doubt they do, still the
very statements and arguments made, raust be productive of good,
because they give rise to conversation on these subjects. (Applause.)
Gentlemen, the uneasiness of those mortal enernies of ours — the
boroughmongers — is beyond anything that can be conceived of. Be
you assured of that. Their day of misery is come, at any rate.
(Laughter and cheers.) God knows, they have raade us suff'er long
enough ; our day of misery has lasted long enough. Theirs, however,
is now come, and they know not which way to turn to obtain rest.
Oh, they have got Talleyrand here. The French call him the devil
on two sticks, or the lame devil. (Laughter.) Certainly, he is a
very crafty man, but his craft will be of no use under these circum-

13
stances. Under these circumstances the craft even of Talleyrand
will be of no avail, unless, indeed, he can make gold to grow out of
the earth, " like grass under the cow's mouth." Talleyrand can do
nothing to stop this series of revolutions, be you assured. They are
obliged to send gold and silver out of the country by waggon loads,
to prop up the bank of the French. France and Belgium are hoard
ing up the gold and silver — the whole of Europe must have its share
of it, and therefore we must return to paper alone, or h-ave another
panic. That's the real devil. (Laughter and cheers.) All tbe rest
is sham, compared to that. There's their difficulty. Turn which way
they will, they are in the midst of difficulties. Now, then, is our
time to press them — (Great applause) — and the best way to do this,
is to carry our petitions to the king. I have the pleasure to inform
you, that from Northampton, and several other large towns, similar
petitions to ours are coming up. (Cheers.) They are our raanifesto,
and will, and must produce a very great effect on the nerves of the
boroughmongers. Gentlemen, the Courier announces that the duke intends, at the
opening of parliament, to propose a certain salutary kind of reform.
Now, I am not for condemning before I see. I am not for carp.
ing and cavilling, before I know what the duke has to say ; and if
we are to judge from his conduct in tbe affair of the catholics, who
can say that he will not give us the whole thing at once ? I am sure
of this, that he would act wisely to do so. I ara sure of that,
because then he would have the people at his back. And then we,
too, should have a parliaraent that we could trust ; a parliament that
would meet at nine o'clock in the morning, and leave off at a reason-
ble time; a parliament that would not meet by owl-light, and be gro
ping about in the dark — (laughter and cheers)— a parliament whose
members would go down satisfied with their dinners, and be just
in time to vote upon a question which they never heard discussed,
and about which they knew nothing. The change would, in every
respect, be surprising, and therefore there is nothing that our enemies
dread so rauch as a parliamentary reform in England.
I wish not to spe-ak evil of America. It ought to be very dear to
me ; I have numerous friends there, children born there, and all
manner of ties connecting me to it. But England is dearer to me
by far ; that is my own country, and my affection for her ought to be,

14
and is, much stronger than for America. I say, then, that America
is a raost formidable rival to England. I have, for years, been pre
dicting danger to England from the increaise in the maritime powdr
of that country. Now, England is a thousand times as strong as
that couutry. She is so complete, so'' well put together, and has
every thing so fit for her population and her wants. — Providence
has so blessed it with every thing above every other country in the
world, that if it were under a good and wbol'eSoriie government, no
other country in the world could become her successful rival. The
United States of America, however, have created a formidable navy,
and suppose we were to go to war with that country — and -who is to
suppose that there will not be a war sometime or another ?t— suppose
there were to be a, war with that country, allied witb Russia and
France, would it not be a most formidable thing ? But, gentlemen
I know that there is nothing the American statesmen, who are wise
as they are honest, there is nothing they desire so much, as to see
England remain as she is, — bound down without a parliamentary
reform. " Oh, but that is very wrong of them ; they are free, and they
should wish us to be free also I" Aye, gentlemen, we raay say that
as long as we will; we raay say that one pretty woraan ought to wish
all other women to be as pretty as herself; or that a pretty woman
who is loved by a man, ought to wish that all other pretty women
were equally loved by him. No, gentlemen, that can't be^ — that
can't be. We must desire to be predominant ; in the nature of things
that must be so. God has implanted that desire in our breasts. It
has ever been the boast of England that we were masters of the seas,
(Applause.) We have been envied for that by the whole world ; and
be you assured that Britons wish above all things in the world
to retain that character. Gentlemen, we ought not to mince the
raatter, we ought not to deceive ourselves; I know from personal
acquaintanceship, as well as from the most authentic sources, that
there is nothing which the American statesraen and people dread so
much as a parliamentary reform in England. They say, " Let the
boroughmongers remain ; while they have them down under the
hatches we are safe." An American, with whom I was conversing some
time since, said something about reform, which called forth a question
from rae, as to what the Americans thought about a parliamentary
reform in England. He said, " Why, we are thinking chiefly, what

15
would come after reform." 1 replied, " Yes, 1 tnow you are think
ing of that ; but would you not rather that we should remain as we
are ?" " Why, yes," said he, " we would rather that you should
remain as you are." (Laughter and cheer.s.) To be sure ; it's very
natural they should^ But if we had such a government as we ought
to have, we should always reraain masters of the seas. They say,
"That's criminal. We ought not to wish so; it's so arrogant 
so selfish. We ought always to wish for peace !" I can see no harra
in the wish, however. The Americans have never been masters of the
seas ; therefore it cannot hurt them to remain as they are. Let us pretend
to philanthropy, or citizenship of the world, or what we will, when
we forget this for a moment, we feel that we are Englishmen ; that
we love our country better than all the rest of the world ; and there
is scarcely a man who would not almost rather part with his last shirt,
than see England sink down below what it has been for so many ages.
(.Applause.) Gentlemen, I am as firmly convinced as I ara of any truth, that if
there be not a reform of the parliament ; if there be not given to the
country, an economical government ; if the earnings of the people be
not left in their pockets ; — in short if there be not a reform, for every
thing is included in that — it is my deliberately formed opinion, that
in a very few years this country will sink down into a mere trading,
hugger-mugger nation, like the Dutch, or the Swiss, where money is
every thing, and honour aijd glory nothing. (Applause.) I beg you
to think of the necessity of procuring this reform, as the means of
defeating Talleyrand and all their schemes. This is all we can do.
We ought to atterapt nothing menacing in this state of things. —
There has been no new aggression made upon us. We ought, there
fore, to approach the king, or the parliament, when we do so, in
respectful terms ; but at the same time, urge strongly our clairas to
reform. (Applause.) Our petition will be ready by November, and it
will then be carried to the king. If his majesty do not receive it, that
is all ; we shall not suffer from that ; it will have equal weight
whether it be received or not. The language is such that it cannot
be treated with contempt. It will have great weight with the minis
ter himself, and if he be inclined to propose reform, we shall have it.
If we have it thus, good ; if not, the consequences be on the h'eads of
those who refuse it. (Great cheering.)

In a

MIRROR OF THE BOROUGHMONGERS!!!
few days will be published, price 3rt, containing 24 pages of closely printed
letter press. No. 1, of
THE PEOPLE'S BOOK;
Comprising a mass of information which should be familiarised to every English
man, at this eveutful crisis. It will contain, among other things, copies of Magna
Charta— rhe Bill of Rights— The Act of Settlement— the Habeas Corpus Act —
Mr. Gret's Petition to the House of Commons in 1793 — a complete List of
THE Boroughmongers, vith their nominations and influence — a Peep at the
Peers, exhibiting their Offices, Pensions, Grants, Connections, and Influence,
Direct and Indirect — an Analysis of the Present House of Commons, showing
the places for which the members sit, the patrons, and the persons by whose influence
the majoi-ity of the members are returnea — their Places, Pensions, and Sinecures
— votes upon Questions of Public interest — and relationship to the Upper House—
the Expenditure of the Civil List— the National Drbt — the Income and Ex
penditure — embracing an account of the Rate of l>uty on each article of Customs,
Excise, and Stamps — and the produce of direct Taxes; and a number of other docu
ments of national importance, tending to exhibit the real condition into which the
Boroughmongers and their assistants have brought the people of England.
Witb Notes, Illustrations, and an introduction, by the author of " A Political
Letter."
Published by STRANGE, 21, Paternoster Row; and sold by— it is hoped— the
majority of BooksvUers.
THE LIBERTY OP THE PRESS ASSERTED!

On Saturday, October 9, will be published, the size of The Times ; but containing
32 pages, printed in double columns. Price Four Pence,
A POLITICAL LETTER,
Addressed to
A FRIEND, OR AN ENEMY, AS EVENTS MAY SUGGEST;
Comprising a Comprehensive Digest of
ALL THE PUBLIC EVENTS AND PASSING OCCURRENCES
Of the Day, both Foreign and Domestic, accompanied
WITH ORIGINAL OBSERVATIONS AND COMMENTS.

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THE STANDING ARMY.

AN ELEVENTH
LECTU

FRENCH REVOLUTION,

ENGLISH BOROUGHMONGERING;
BY WSX-LIAM COBBETT,
Delivered in the Tlieatre of the Rotunda, Blackfriars Bridge,
on Tliursday, Oct. 7.

GE>fTLEMEN, The subject upon which I proposed to address you this evening,
was the standing army of this country. As it is with individuals, so
it is with nations ; tliey are never degraded all at once. A man is
never changed from a virtuous to a vicious character all at once.
No. Such a change takes place by degrees ; and it is by degrees that
England has been brought to endure, without shame, a great standing
army, constantly in the country. The circumstances in which we are
placed, gentlemen, will permit but a very few persons to pay sufficient
attention to these things, to know how things formerly stood in
England.' Most persons suppose, I dare say, that we always had a
standing array in England ; that there were always horse-guards,
commanders-in-chief, and levees at the horse-guards — commander's-in-
chief 's levies ; that there always was a staff, as it is called ; that is,
a great tribe of fellows with whiskers and long spurs leceiving -the
public money. Believing this to be the case, they patiently submit
to it ; they look upon it as a very proper thing, and pull off their
hats to the visitors at these levees. But, gentlemen, these are things
quite foreign to the character and the laws of England. It was the
W. STRAJVGE, 21, Paternoster Row— Price Threepence,

2
glory of this country for more than a thousand years, that it knew
not what a standing soldier was. While other nations were com
pelled to keep up large armies, England knew nothing of such
forces. It is very recently, only, that such things have existed.
But, gentlemen, I will begin my remarks upon this subject by
speaking of the principle, as illustrated by the laws and maxims
of England. Upon this, I will read you a passage out of a book
which is read in every court in the kingdom, a book which is more
known than any other one, and which is, in fact, the primer of
lawyers— I mean " Blackstone's Commentaries on the laws of Eng
land." Well, this book says what I will now read to you.
" In a land of liberty, it is extremely dangerous to make a distinct
order of the profession of arms. In absolute monarchies this is
necessary for the safety of the prince, and arises from the main
principle of their constitution, whicli is that of governing by fear :
but in free states, the profession of a soldier, taken singly and
merely as a profession, is justly an object of jealousy. In these, mo
mau should take np arms, but with a view to defend his country, and
its laws : he puts not off the citizen when he enters tbe camp ; but
it is because he is a citizen, and icould wish to continue so, that he
makes himself for a while, a soldier. The laws, therefore, and con
stitution of these kingdoms, know no such state as that of a perpetual
standing soldier, bred up to no other profession than that of war : and
it was not till the reign of Henry KII. that the kings of England
had so much as a guard about their persons."
There is much more upon the subject, but I need not go on. The
body-£uard of the king, he spealis of, was composed of fellows just
like our beef-eaters. I know not what the narae comes from. They
look, g-enerally, as if they could eat a good piece of beef. (Laughter.)
They were, in short, a sort of servants, attended on state days, and
were dressed as tbey are at this day. Gentlemen, governraent never
placed any reliance on soldiers ; the whole people the were soldiers for
the defence of the country. Tbat was the law of Enf.';land, and it
was the custom, too. The thing crept on slowly, however, and after
the Stuarts came to the throne, they had bodies of armed men ; and
poor James swelled the nuraber to thirty thousand. They were no
protection to him, however, for he was obliged to run away. Gen
tlemen, soldiers will never be a protection in the end, be you assured.
They will in the end always produce the fall of those wjio delight
to have thera ; and in proportion to their numbers is the danger.
At first, as 1 before said, the thing crept on rather slowly, but of
late years, tliere bas been a rapid increase. The berf-eaters grew
into regiments of troops. First, there was a company, then a
battalion, then three battalions ; then there were some horse-guards,
and then all sorls of things, till we see London ornamented in a very
ample_ manner with men and horses, each pair of which, according
to Hume's calculation, costs £lOO a, year — enough to maintain five
labourers and their families. But to shew the increase of late years,
and how we feel the consequences of it — the main thing at this time
— it should be observed, that in fornier times, England was known to

3
be more happy than aity other, country, because she had no soldiers —
no standing army to keep ; because the people were all employed ;
or each man, at any rate, had not to give away nearly the whole of
what he earned.
Gentlemen, Fortescue represented, at the time he wrote, the
people of France as being the most miserable creatures in the world.
They were dressed, clothed, and fed badly ; they hardly ever tasted
meat, thought an egg a luxury, and, in shoit, his description of
the French at that time, would very well suit the country people
of England now. But, gentlemen, Fortescue, after thus describing
the French people, turns round and says, look at England ; see
the difference there ; the people have plenty of fish and flesh
tb eat; they are clothed in good woollens, not in a little canvass
jerkin, sucb as the French then had, and our poor now have.
And what does he say was the reason of this ? Why, that the
French were obliged to maintain a standing army, which ate up
the best of the provisions which the rich people did not previously
take away. He says the French were miserable, because they
had a standing army, and the English happy, because they had
none. In ancient times in England, as it should be in all times, every
man was a soldier, because liable to be called out in defence of his
country. In America, now, every man is mustered once a year ;
not in any uniforra, or for the purpose of show, but to ascertain
the real strength of the country. Every man is there required to
have arms for his own defence, and to know how to use them.
That is the real security for the liberties of the people, and it is
something singular, that while there is an act of parliament in force,
expressly saying that Englishmen have a right to keep arms in
their houses for the defence of their lives and property ; it is some
what singular, that while such an act as this is in force, they should
pass other laws to let as few as possible have arms. In the fiist
place, the game laws disarm a great number of people ; and several
lords, particularly I recollect lord Ashburnham, said that no man
should be employed who kept a gun in his house. Gentleraen, mark
the folly of this. They will not let a young man's father have
a g'un, but they will take this young man, and after putting a
red coat on his back, put a better gun in his hand. (Laughter and
cheers.) The folly of that is surprising. They cannot see that the
time will come when these guns will be used for the defence of
the people themselves. (Applause.) An act passed in 1819, to disarm
the people in some counties of England. In Ireland, this is done
everlastingly ; but it is hazardous to' speak of the laws of that
country, for few know what the laws there are. But in England
an act passed to disarm a large part of the people. It is singular,
I say then, that they should, with the act in force to which I have
already referred, seek to bave as few arms in the possession of
the people as possible. I have said that among the people iu
America, every man is obliged to keep arms, and to show them for
the defence of his country. That, gentlemen, is the maxim of

Blackstone. " That the citizen, for a tide, becomes a soldier,
because he desires to continue a citizen." One of the customs of
America is, that the soldiers should choose their own officers, and
that by ballot. Why, they want their militia to be as efficient as
possible, for they are wanted for nothing but the defence of their
country ; and yet the soldiers choose their own ofiicers, and that
by ballot. The French are now contending for the same thing, and
will put it in practice, too. I bave received a letter from my son
at Paris, who states that a, gentleman, a friend, informed him, that
his brother was in a corps of national guards, and that his own cow
herd was his captain. Why, he was chosen for a captain to be sure ;
because he was taller, aud stouter, and was thought to be a braver and a
fitter man for a captain, than his master was. This, gentlemen, is the
state of things in France with regard to the array. That was also
the state of the thing in England formerly. Every man was called
upon to bear arms, in defence of his country ; he became a soldier
under an officer chosen by hiraself, and when he had effected the
object for which he was called out, he returned to his family ; he
became again a citizen, and was no longer a soldier.
Gentlemen, I have observed to you,, how the thing has gone on
increasing, and now I ara to show how it has gone on loading us with
taxes. In 1792 — we will go back to the last peace — during the last
peace, the army cost, ordnance, half pay, and altogether, one million
nine hundred and forty-eight thousand pounds ; now, at the end of
fifteen years of profound peace, during the whole of which the late
king constantly talked of the positive assurances of which he con
tinued to leceive of the friendly dispositions of all the powers — in the
midst of this happy state of profound peace, our army is costing,
^15,000,000 a year, instead of £1,948,000! Gentlemen, by and by
we will ask, what that is for ; but to go on ; the half pay alone, now
costs nearly four times as much as the whole of the army, ordnance,
half pay, horse, foot, altogether, during the last peace. Therehas
been a monstrous increase then ; they have got on at a prodigious
rate. I believe they have got as far as they can go ; I believe they
have touched the terminating point ; but, to that they have come.
(Laughter and cheers.) Fifteen millions I Aye, and I dare say, even
that is short of the araount, if every item were brought into the
account. But that statement is in their own accounts. I never ara
inclined to believe any tliiug upon their bare words ; I do not set a
very high value on their oaths — (cheers) — but on their bare words
I never do believe them. (Cheers.) But we can't be much over the
mark, at any rate, if we set this down at what they return it in their
own accounts.
N^ow, then, let us look at the consequences of this. Fifteen
millions a year is within half a million as much as tbe whole of the
revenue araounted to during the last peace. Before they chose to go
to war with the French republic, to subdue liberty in France, and to
restore the reign of the Bourbons, the whole of the taxes collected in
England, only amounted fifteen millious and a half, and a trifle over :
last year, they amounted to sixty millions, or they would have done,

if they cpuld have collected all they wanted. Look at it in all sorts
of ways. A standing avmy is proper; if it be proper to give to lords
sinecures and pensions to the amount of four millions a. year; — (hear,
hear)— if it he proper to give to one bishop forty or fifty thousand a
year, as it is stated in a paper I hold in my hand ;* if it be right, as
it is also stated, for one earl to have £6,000 a year, for doing- nothing ;
another £6,000 a year, for doing nothing, and plenty of others, three
or four thousand a ye4,r for doiqg nothing ; if that be proper, then it
is proper to keep up a standing army to give theni a chance, at any
rate, of collecting the money to pay this with. (Hear, hear.) The
only question is, are we to go on paying these sums ? if we be, then
an army mu§t hq kept up for this purpose.
I have said enough, as to the principle of a standing army. Had
these men taker, up Blackstone, and read him for a lyhole year, and
said, " We have all been reading the book, what does it mean ? why
so and so. Well, then, what can we do to do the contrary of it?"
(Loud laughter.) Gentlemen, had they sat down, and deternained in
that manner, they could not have done more contrary to the laws and
maxims of England, than they have done. They have built barracks
to shut the soldiers up from the people ; these barracks are nothing
short of inland fortresses ; there tliey are in raany parts of the country ;
they were never wanted as means of defence, and were neyer known to
our forefathers. They never wanted redoubts and all sorts of things to
defend the ships ; the ships defended themselves, and England too.
(Hear, hear.) This then, is a mere pretence to keep the soldiers as
miich from the people as possible. But there is one thing, gentlemen,
that it is probable, few persons present are aware of. There is an
act of parliament, now in force, for putting any man to death who
may say any thing having a tendency to seduce a soldier frora the
performance of his duty. Think of that, gentlemen. If a soldier
come forward and swear, I believe that it does not require -the testi
mony of two, if a soldier come forward and swear, that any man had said
or done any thing having a tendency to seduce hira from the performance
of his duty ; that man is liable to be hanged by the neck. (Shame,
shame.) Since that act ha? passed, I have never spoken to a soldier.
Though a soldier for several years myself, and therefore, having a better
opinion of thera than most other people, I bave never since the
passing ofthat act, spoken to a man with a soldier's clothes on. The
other day I got a letter from a soldier at Gibraltar, requesting rae
to send the Register, which letter, by the way, was franked by bis
Colonel; tbat letter, however, I bave never answered yet, nor do I
intend to answer it. But the answer I should give to him, would
be, " if you turn to such an act of parliament, you will find that I
am liable to be hanged, if I do any thing, having a tendency to
seduce you from the performance of your duty. If therefore, I send
you a Register, and there should be any thing in that Register
having such a tendency — and gentlemen, 1 would not answer for it,
that there might not be something to seduce him from the perforraance
* See " Mee Pickings," published by Hetherington, Kingsgate Street, Holborn.,

of his duty— (Laughter and cheers) — if such should be the case —
and remeraber, gentlemen, the letter was franked by his Colonel,
which gave him the right to see the contents of the letter — if snch
should be the case, then I am liable to be hanged by the neck.
What ! are we in England then, is this the England that Blackstone
only seventy years ago wrote bis book about ! " Poh ! your Com
raentaries of the Laws of England ; before your book gets into much
vogue, those laws will all be gone, and it will be the fashionable
thing to have large numbers of soldiers, and put the people to death,
who dare to speak to them. " What do you know about the laws
and maxims of England!" Gentleraen, it is thus we have gone on
gradually, till we bave arrived at the point which if proposed to our
forefathers, even at the tirae of Blackstone, would have filled them
with indignation. (Applause.)
Gentleraen, look at the raeans employed to raake the state of the
soldier better than that of the citizen. In the first place, if a
labouring man go to a magistrate for eraployraent, in most counties
he will not get more than 2s. 6d. a week. In the county of Kent,
where the labouring fellows will not submit to terms like these,
tbey get 4s. ; but for this they have to work hard six days in the
week. When a magistrate has to portion off a man and his family,
he gives the man three shillings, his wife one shilling and sixpence,
and each of his children sixpence ; so that a married man has not
more than three shillings a week. Now, what is the state of a soldier?
The lowest paid private soldier has seven and seven pence a week,
vvhich is called subsistence money ; then he has clothing, then fuel,
then lodging, then candle. Gentleraen, why should there be this
difference? And, observe, how they creep on. When I had the
honour to serve his majesty — (laughter) — and I ara sure I was as
tall a man, and could eat as rauch as any of them — (laughter) — my
subsistence money was three shillings and sixpence a-week, white
at the same time, no labouring man in England had less than six,
seven, or eight shillings a week. There is a change then ; there is
a preference given to tbe military life ! (Cheers.) For to say the
truth, we, who volunteer for the army, are not generally, when that
coraes into our head, the most select of the population of the country.
Either such persons happen not to have work, or something or ano
ther, which raakes thera not the elect of the country. A fellow is
a blackguard the day before, " Ob you ruffian, you scoundrel— I'll
send you to prison, you ruffian, you ;" but as soon as he has got a
red coat on his back, he is one of our fine brave fellows. (Laughter
and cheers.) He immediately becomes a cock, and is treated in the
finest raanner. .Is there any raore propriety in this, than there is
justice in giving tbem three tiraes as much as a hard working raan?
Then, as to at tradesraan, look at an officer, and put him on a
footing with a genteel tradesman. Why should the fornier be selected
for all the favours ? Why should their widows and children be
provided for ? Is there any reason or sense in that ? When a man
enters the army, he enters it voluntarily ; why, therefore, should be
have any thing after bis services cease, except in cases of wounds or

long service, or something ofthat sort ? (Applause.) But in general, it
is most unjust and unreasonable that there should be six millions a-year
taken to provide for men who are no longer in tbe service, and who
are not to serve again. Why not provide for tbe children of tradesmen
aud farmers ? The soldier has voluntarily chosen to bear the sword,
and as the Scripture says, " He who takes the sword, must live and
die by the sword." They may say, " Aye, you want to take away
tbe support from these poor widows and children." Gentlemen,
the worst of it is, we all stand a chance of having widows and children,
too. And why is there no provision for ours ? Why should they
take from the earnings of these very widows and children, to take
care of those of other men. Gentleraen, until we have a proper
understanding upon these matters, we shall never take a proper part
relative to them. It is easy to be generous out of other people's
money ; but every man gives his full .share at last. It is in this way
that we are all made a great deal poorer than we ought to be.
Then they come with the education of the gentleraen of this army.
Upon this subject I spoke one evening before, but I will do so again,
because it is a great feature in this concern. People, I dare say,
think that there were always Military Academies. But it was not
so. That monstrous great pile Sandhurst, was founded by that
great captain of the age — the duke of York. (Laughter.) Gentlemen,
these military academies are of not more than twenty-five or thirty
years' standing. I recollect well, the passing of the bill for erecting
the place I have just mentioned. There they have professors of
languages, professors of mathematics, teachers of fortification— all
sorts of things — doctors, nurses — for they send their children there
so young — I do not say, while they are at the breast, so that they
require wet nurses — (Laughter) — I do not say that ; but they have
dry nurses in abundance ; and we have to pay for dry nurses for
the children of the gentry, who are educated for officers, to take
the command of our children, when they becorae big enough to be
soldiers. There we pay for the feeding, educating, clothing, washing,
mending, every thing belonging to these young gentleraen, till they
are big enough to become officers, arid then officers they are made.
In future, no one is to become an officer unless he come from a military
academy. You'll perceive, therefore, that they'll take care that none
but their own shall go into these academies ; of course none others
can come out of them. So that we are thus burdened to keep up
these iraraense buildings ; these professors of languages, and of danc
ing — for, gentlemen, they have dancing masters ; I forgot that ;
these are very necessary, no doubt, for an officer's education, for in
certain cases he may have to wheedle a lady to open the gates of
a town or a city. (Great laughter.) Gentlemen, I pledge ray word
for the truth of what I say ; Mr. Carpenter is taking down my
words, and I pledge myself for tbeir truth. (Applause.)
But the great objection I have to these institutions— for they call
them by that sacred name— is that they are designed to detach the
officers who are educated there, in feeling from the people. The
spot selected for this college of Sandhurst, is the most distant that

8
could have been, from any house in all England, except Dartmoor.
It is erected upon a great dark, ill-looking spot, going from Bagshot
Heath to Blackwater. Here these boys are brought, put into the
house, never seeing a tradesman, or a farraer, or any body else ;
never mixing witb any body ; never visiting friends' houses ; having
no intercourse whatever with the people ; never seeing a. woman,
even, except their nurses. Gentlemen, when they are brought -up
in this sort of way, what must they be when they come out,- and
assume the comraand of men ? Can they have any of those feelings
v/hich men ought to have in society? No. They raust be destitute
of the greater part of those feelings. As far as habit can do any
thing in forming them, they are completely cut off frora society, and
made as distinct from the people as possible.
How, then, does this square with Blackstone ? He says the soldier
and the citizen should never be separated ; that there should be
a constant intermixture of the soldiers with tbe people. This,
he says, will not be dangerous to liberty. The conveise of his
proposition, then, is true ; that is, if the soldiers be shut up from
the people, and made separate from them, they do becorae dangerous
to liberty. (Cheers.) Gentlemen, I believe, that cannot exist long;
I-believe this state of things will soon be put to rights, by some
means or another. But it does now exist, at any rate, and it is
my duty to explain to you the condition we are in, in relation to
this army.
Another thing which is quite new in England, is the employing
of foreigners in this army. When a man is guilty of a trespass —
ofthe enormous crime of killing a hare, which is no crirae whatever,
and is brought ^before a magistrate, they call him a " villain." But
what do they say to these men who violate the law, without the
smallest scruple, as a matter of course, and laugh at you if you
reraind thera of it? Gentleraen, when our ancestors brought in a
family of foreigners — I do not say that it was unnecessary — but
when our ancestors thought proper to bring in the present reigning
family, they did not fail to obtain a guarantee, that the liberties of
Englishmen should not be placed in jeopardy, by allowing any
foreigner to hold employjment, civil or military, or any pension
frora the state. No nian can be eligible for these things, who
is not a natural born subject of the king. No man who is not
born either in England, Ireland, or Scotland, or in some British
colonies ; or if born abroad, of English parents. So that no
man, who is not born in the king's dominions, or of English parents
out of thera, can lawfully hold any office in our army. But, gentle
men, there are abundance of thera, and have been, for some years
past. When the whigs were in office, they carried on this thing to
a pretty extent, and when they were rerainded of having so done,
they turned up their noses and laughed. (Cheers.) Colonel Qhinten,
he is a foreigner; duke vvhat-do-you-call-bira — who is on the half-pay
this moraent, be is a foreigner. This, gentlemen, is very different f^om
bringing foreign regiments into the country in the time of war ; they
had an act of parliament to allow them to do that; but those men

are in English regiments, and have the command of English men,
in direct violation of the law. And in direct violation of that law,
they have been living for the last thirty years, in nuraerous instances.
If it be, as Blackstone describes it, endangering this liberty of the
people, to keep up a native railitary force, separate from the people,
how dangerous must it be, to bring foreigners into the country, and
give them the command of our armies ? (Loud cheers.)
Such,- gentleraen, are the constituent parts of this establishment.
If we were to put this question to thera, " What have we this army
for ?" I believe they would be very slow to answer. (Cheers.) " Oh,
we must have ap army, other nations have armies." (Laughter.) Other
nations have armies ! So they always had ; but there were not
always armies in England. There was a,, great array in France
when Fortescue wrote his books, yet England had no army at that
time. England did, for more than a thousand years, without a
soldier, while France and Gerraany, and other countries on the conti
nent' kept large standing armies. And why should we not be as
well without them now ? (Cheers.) It is no answer to say, that
•vve must have an army because the French have. There are plenty
of reasons why France should have an army, and we not. They are
surrounded by powerful nations, and fortified towns, and have nothing
but an imaginary boundary. An army, therefore, in France, may be
rendered very "necessary by the circumstances of the country ; but we
bave no such imaginary line ; God has been pleased to draw the sea
around us, as much as to say, " You shan't have an array." (Cheers.)
Their argument from analogy, therefore, is not worth a straw, we
must have something better than that. " Oh, the army is to keep the
peace of the country." Why, every county has got a government in itself;
there is a lord-lieutenant, and a deputy-lieutenant, and a militia,
ready to be called out at any moment ; and in many counties, a
yeomanry in addition, though that is not wanted at all. To keep
the peace of the country! Why, can any man go three hundred
yards, withou* neeting sorae one or other who has authority to keep the
peace ? Gentlemen, there was never any thing more complete than
the county government of England ; that is our constitution ; that
is the English government, constituted to keep the peace of the
country. What then can we want witb an army to keep the peace ?
(Cheers.) It can't be for that then — it must be for something else.
Indeed it is for soraething else. What tbey want it for is this — and
you must all agree in this, it is all hypocrisy to talk of government
wanting an array to prevent breaches of the peace — they want it,
I say, for something very different to this. But, gentleraen, it is
equal hypocrisy in us to complain of that army, while we permit them
to collect sixty millions a-year in taxes, for such purposes as they
now do. To collect that amount without that military force would
be impossible. Whether they be foolish enough to believe that they
can continue to collect it with that force, is more than I can say;
but without it it is utterly impossible.— (loud cheers)— and that I
have said ten thousand times over. We ought, then, in the first
place, to get rid of the taxes, and the riddance of the army will

10
necessarily follow. The army costs fifteen millions a-year, because
taxes are to be collected to the amount of sixty millions a-year.
There is the re-action of the thing — the hardship is augmented by
the means taken to dirainish it. So long as we have an aristocracy
who take from us the sums they now do, the maintenance of a large
military force is absolutely necessary.
Another thing to be borne in mind, is, that it is necessary for them
to take these suras with sorae degree of decency, and the army is a
very fertile field. Hence we have three generals to every regiment, and
17,000 officers— this will shew, if you divide 100,000 by 17, that we
have one commissioned officer to every fice and a-half raen. (Laughter.)
Why, Gentlemen, we have more g-enerals than the whole world
besides, and half as many commissioned officers as the whole world.
Araerica has a great number to be sure, but then they give them no
pay. (Renewed laughter.)
The army is a very decent channel, through which the aristocracy
suck up our money ; it would not be quite proper to go and demand
a pension for a son, but it is^very becoraing to say, " He shall serve
his country," and we must not say, the country does not want his
services. That, gentleraen, is the source of the iraraense mass of
taxes which we now have to pay. Look at the excise; look at the
customs ; look every where, and you will find all filled with the sons,
relations, and dependants of the aristocracy. It is to effect this, that
they raaintain a large standing- army, and almost all other establish
ments. But then, it may be said, would it not be a great deal better
that they should have the money given to themselves directly, rather
than draw it thus through the army, navy, custoras, excise, and
various other sources ? Oh ! but they would not like that ; that
would not be seemly, and possibly the people might not consent to
give it. Gentleraen, I ara reminded of a story of a footman, who
coraplained to the cook, that she always bought such fat mutton.
" Cook," said he, " what is the reason you buy such fat mutton?"
" Why, ' said the cook, " It is through the fat mutton, John, that I
get my kitchen stuff." Gentlemen, it is through the fat army that
they get their kitchen stuff, and I proraise you they would not get
it without. They have half pay, and all manner of things, without
seeming to comproraise their independence ; they bave the honour to
serve their country, and look down on those who are taxed to pay
thera. Our main object, then, should be to get rid of those enormous
taxes, which render this enormous army necessary; for as to the
danger to English liberty arising from a standing army, if that
should come to be a question, I have never such fear. It is not that;
it is the getting on by stealth, and by being the cause of enormous
taxation, that the liberties of Englishmen are lost. We never had
our liberties knocked out of us, but like Gulliver among the Lillipu
tians, we have been tied down hair by hair till we cannot stir. We
are tied up by taxes, and we cannot perceive how it has been efl'ected
in this way. But, gentlemen, we certainly shall burst these ligatures
one of these days, be you assured of that : Ihey can't last much
longer; we are coming to an end of the thing. The bill I hold in my

11
hand, gentlemen, which advertises a great public meeting, in the
parish of St. Pancras, which is well drawn up, and signed by a large
number of persons, convinces rae that we are rapidly approaching the
end of this thing. They have called a meeting to petition the king
against the further continuance of the new police, which new police
they characterize very properly as a military establishment. There
are Serjeants, and capes, and collars, and numbered buttons, and
every thing very nearly military. This requisition, gentlemen,
embodies sentiments just such as should be found — sentiments,
which, I never hoped at one time, to hear expressed by tradesman in
London. But the expression of these convinces rae, that we are
drawing towards the close of tbe season of these oppressions. I would,
if these persons would permit me, caution thera against being in
haste. At present they are acting very properly ; they applied to
the churchwardens to convene a raeeting upon the subject, but their
reply was, that the select vestry alone had to do with these matters,
and therefore declined a corapliance with the requisition. There,
Gentlemen, is another encroachraent of [the aristocracy. (Hear, hear.)
The police rates, and all other parish rates belong to every pa-
rishoner ; every rate payer has a right to vote for the church
wardens, and overseers, who are chosen at Easter, in each parish.
And they have also to do with all the business of the parish. This
select vestry scheme, like all the boroughraongering affairs, has
deprived the people of their votes, upon subjects in which they
are concerned In the parish of Bloorasbury, one thousand eight
hundred rate payers have been deprived of their votes, by a bill
brought into parliament by that great reformer Lord John Russell —
(Laugliter) — and the lord even went so far, as to introduce a clause,
into his bill, to turn out two gentlemen, Messrs. Wakley and
Rogers — (hear, hear) — who had been selected by the parish, ou
account of their integrity and talent. (Hear, hear.) These Gentle
men in St. Pancras, I say, are pursuing a right course. There
are modes, legal modes, of getting rid of this new military force.
It is no c,-ime in a man not being able to comply with the law, at
any rate ; it is no crirae in a man, not to have raoney in his pocket
to pay the rate with ; that is no crime. Gentlemen, a great number
are thus disqualified — (Hear, hear) — and if an attempt be made on
this occasion — if an attempt be made, to compel them to pay at
once, I cannot pretend to describe the consequences.
Gentlemen, the struggle now going on, on the continent, in
almost every state, is not a foolish or a fanciful thing. It is not the
whim of the people ; but a dispute between the people and the
government i dative to the taxes. In France, even, if they had
not issued the ordinances, in July, 'there would have been an end to
the thing in France. It vvas the discontent of the people to pay
the taxes, that was the cause of the ordinances ; and not the
ordinances that led to a refusal to pay the taxes. And be you assured.
Gentlemen, that the people of France will not continue, though
they have got a popular king, and a tri-colour flag, to pay the
taxes, which have hitherto been imposed upon them. Even now.

12
when soma of the tax gatherers come, they get paid by having
pots and glasses thrown at their heads. (Loud laughter, and cheering,)
Gentlemen, there will be another great change in France before long ;
the people have now got the arms in their hands, and pay the taxes
they will not, to meet the interest and to pay off a debt contracted for
forcing the Bourbons back upon thera, and to pay those soldiers who thus
forced them back. Gentlemen, they will not continue to do this so long
as they have the arms in their hands ; and be you assured, it will
be a difficult task to get them out of their hands. (Hear, hear.)
But in Belgiura, how has it been ? There the thing more plain
still. There the first cry was, Down with the taxes ! It was a mere
battle of the tax-eaters against tbe tax-payers. And when the
Dutch army marched iuto Brussels, where they Committed those
atrocities, which excite our indignation, they should have had
inscribed on the flags they carried, " Taxes for us to eat." The
answer of the Belgians was. You shall not have taxes, unless you
take our lives first. (Hear, bear.) A battle ensued, and the tax
payers beat the tax-eaters. That has been the case in Belgium;
and the people of that country, deserve praise beyond any thing
I can bestow. (Cheering.) The coramon people, the working
people, set the exaraple theie, as well as in France. These comraon
people, with no other coraraander than themselves, beat the Dutch
army out of the town, and made tbem run away with their two-
crowned king. Since that tirae, all the fortified towns, excepting
Ancwerp, have joined them; of all the country, down to the coast, they
are the coraplete masters. They have made a provisional govern
ment, and what 1 ought to be proud of is this, that tbe man at the
head of that government, is the honest printer and publisher of a
paper ; for writing in which he was banished by the Dutch king.
(Hear and cheers.) Gentlemen, this man lay in prison for some
months ; was then banished for eight or ten years from his native
country, but has now had to go back, being of all men in the world,
the one chosen to be at the head of their public affairs — " Oh, that
can't be, except he be a lord ; to be sure that is impossible. What?
no royal blood in his veins, and at the head of the government !"
Yes, gentlemen, those yankees have done a vast deal of good ; they
never had any thing with royal or noble blood in his veins ; but they
have carried on a most excellent government for forty years.
(Cheers.) Be you assured, gentleraen, that in this respect, the
Araericans have set an example, that the world will not fail to
follow. (Renewed cheers.) Belgiura is a most interesting country,
having a raost industrious people, faraed for their valour, their
honesty, and all the virtues. Therefore, if the Belarians should
erect themselves into a nice little republic, with a printer at the head
of it, why, what do you think the world will say ? Why, gentlemen,
it was the printer's devil who drove the duke of York out of Holland ;
so these printers are famous fellows after all. (Great laughter.)
Should this be the case, gentleraen, do you think that we should go on
bearing all these taxes so quietly, and raaking no effort to get them
off? I do not mean that England should be a republic; I never said

13
so. I am of a contrary opinion. But suppose all the legitimate
• kings were to die ; suppose all the royal family were to die off, and
be no more, and that all their relations in Hanover and Brunswick
were to become extinct, don't you think we could raake a shift to rub
along ? (Great cheers and laughter.) Do you think that it would be ne
cessary that we should all lie down and die ? What they mean to do
in Belgium, I understand is this, they intend to elect a president,
as in America ; then a body of men to be called a senate, to be elected
for four years ; and a house of representatives, to be elected for one
year, or two. So that we shall have an American republic in the
heart of Europe. Gentlemen, with all my predilections for royalty —
(Great laughter.) — with all my desire to see the royal race of Eng
land, particularly, perpetuated, I can't help saying, that shall be
most glad to see this little republic go on well and prosper.
(Cheers.) Gentlemen, be you assured, that the French will blush at the
bungling work they have suffered their chamber to carry on.
Gentlemen, of this, I believe all sensible men are satisfied,
and even our aristocracy, though not the cleverest people in the world,
must see it too, that military force is not a thing to be so much re
lied on now as it was formerly. I verily believe, that our gracious
King — (cheering) — and his prime minister, have a great deal too
much sense, to attempt any thing which will compel thera to rely
upon military force. Even if the prime minister were disposed himself
to do any thing of this kind, I believe that the king is too gra
cious to suffer him to do it, if he knew it. So far as it relates to
them, we need to be under no apprehension. But when a boroughmon
ger is likely to lose his Borough, tben what may we not expect ? Think
of the hungry wolf when he is likely to lose his dinner. (Cheers.)
Much about the same feelings vvill seize upon every boroughmonger,
when he sees a real parliaraentary reform approaching. Be you
assured of that, gentlemen — (cheers) — and therefore you need not
wonder at sorae very desperate attempts on their parts, if they be
allowed to raake them. I believe, however, that they will not be
allowed. (Cheers.)
In conclusion, gentlemen, with reference to tbe petition, which
was agreed to on a former evening, 1 beg to say that sheets of pnper,
properly ruled, will be given at my shop, to any gentleman who will
properly use them. On Monday, I intend to set out for Kent, Sussex,
and Hampshire, in which counties I intend to deliver lectures, and
if we are permitted to meet here again a few days after the speech
of the king shall have been submitted to parliament, I may have the
honour to submit to you my opinions on the contents of that speech.
Gentlemen, I wish you health and happiness, and a lightening of
the taxes as soon as possible. (Mr. Cobbett sat down amidst tremen
dous cheering.)
Mr. Cobbett having left tbe theatre, Mr. Alvey proposed a vote
of thanks for the course of lectures which Mr. Cobbett had delivered
in that theatre, which, being seconded by Mr. Hetherington, was
carried with the most enthusiastic applause.

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