en may
entertain of the conduct of that body, they will impute its faults to
any confidence which the members have that they are to sit for seven
years; for I very much question whether there be one gentleman in the
House of Commons who thinks, or has ever thought, that his seat is worth
three years' purchase. When, therefore, we discuss this question,
we must remember that we are discussing a question not immediately
pressing. I freely admit, however, that this is no reason for not fairly
considering the subject: for it is the part of wise men to provide
against evils which, though not actually felt, may be reasonably
apprehended. It seems to me that here, as in the case of the ballot,
there are serious considerations to be urged on both sides. The
objections to long Parliaments are perfectly obvious. The truth is that,
in very long Parliaments, you have no representation at all. The mind
of the people goes on changing; and the Parliament, remaining unchanged,
ceases to reflect the opinion of the constituent bodies. In the old
times before the Revolution, a Parliament might sit during the life
of the monarch. Parliaments were then sometimes of eighteen or twenty
years' duration. Thus the Parliament called by Charles the Second soon
after his return from exile, and elected when the nation was drunk with
hope and convulsed by a hysterical paroxysm of loyalty, continued to sit
long after two-thirds of those who had heartily welcomed the King
back from Holland as heartily wished him in Holland again. Since the
Revolution we have not felt that evil to the same extent: but it must be
admitted that the term of seven years is too long. There are, however,
other considerations to set off against this. There are two very serious
evils connected with every general election: the first is, the violent
political excitement: the second is, the ruinous expense. Both these
evils were very greatly diminished by the Reform Act. Formerly these
were things which you in Scotland knew nothing about; but in England
the injury to the peace and morals of society resulting from a general
election was incalculable. During a fifteen days' poll in a town of one
hundred thousand inhabitants, money was flowing in all directions; the
streets were running with beer; all business was suspended; and there
was nothing but disturbance and riot, and slander, and calumny, and
quarrels, which left in the bosoms of private families heartburnings
such as were no