h was
introduced by himself in 1829. What I do anticipate is this, that he
will attempt to keep his party together by means which will excite
grave discontents, and yet that he will not succeed in keeping his party
together; that he will lose the support of the Tories without obtaining
the support of the nation; and that his government will fall from causes
purely internal.

This, Sir, is not mere conjecture. The drama is not a new one. It was
performed a few years ago on the same stage and by most of the same
actors. In 1827 the right honourable Baronet was, as now, the head of
a powerful Tory opposition. He had, as now, the support of a strong
minority in this House. He had, as now, a majority in the other House.
He was, as now, the favourite of the Church and of the Universities. All
who dreaded political change, all who hated religious liberty, rallied
round him then, as they rally round him now. Their cry was then, as
now, that a government unfriendly to the civil and ecclesiastical
constitution of the realm was kept in power by intrigue and court
favour, and that the right honourable Baronet was the man to whom the
nation must look to defend its laws against revolutionists, and its
religion against idolaters. At length that cry became irresistible.
Tory animosity had pursued the most accomplished of Tory statesmen and
orators to a resting place in Westminster Abbey. The arrangement which
was made after his death lasted but a very few months: a Tory government
was formed; and the right honourable Baronet became the leading minister
of the Crown in the House of Commons. His adherents hailed his elevation
with clamorous delight, and confidently expected many years of triumph
and dominion. Is it necessary to say in what disappointment, in what
sorrow, in what fury, those expectations ended? The right honourable
Baronet had been raised to power by prejudices and passions in which
he had no share. His followers were bigots. He was a statesman. He was
coolly weighing conveniences against inconveniences, while they were
ready to resort to a proscription and to hazard a civil war rather than
depart from what they called their principles. For a time he tried to
take a middle course. He imagined that it might be possible for him to
stand well with his old friends, and yet to perform some part of his
duty to the state. But those were not times in which he could long
continue to halt between two opinions. His elevation, as it