We have ventured in a previous chapter to call in question the propriety of the conduct of the King's father, George III., in using his personal entreaties to influence the House of Lords against the India Bill of Mr. Fox. The transaction which has been related here is the second and only other instance since the Revolution of a sovereign having recourse to such a device to sway the votes of members of either House. But the circumstances were so entirely different, nay, so diametrically opposite, that an opinion of the impropriety of the sovereign's deed in the former case imposes no obligation on the ground of consistency to censure it in the later instance. The interference of George III. was designed to thwart and defeat his ministers on a measure of which he had not previously intimated any disapproval. William IV., on the other hand, was exerting himself to support his ministers, not, as it seems probable, without some sacrifice of his own judgment. His father acted as he did to avert an inroad on his prerogative and independence, which he had been persuaded to apprehend, but the danger of which can hardly be said to have been proved beyond all question; so that even those who think the result of his action fortunate for the nation cannot defend the action as one that on any constitutional principle can be justified. The son, at a far more critical moment, adopted the course which he did adopt as the only means which he saw of extricating the state and the nation from an alternative of great calamities: the extinction of, or at least a deep wound to, the legislative independence of the House of Lords, by the following of a single precedent[218] which had ever since been universally condemned; or, on the other hand, a continuance of outrages and tumults which had already disgraced the nation in the eyes of the world, and which, if renewed and continued, could not fail to imperil the safety of the state. Such a motive may certainly be allowed to excuse the irregularity of the act.
When, however, we come to consider the proposal to create peers, which drove the King to take such a step, that is a question on which, while it is still more important, it is also more difficult to form a satisfactory judgment. It was denounced by the Duke of Wellington and other peers as utterly unconstitutional and revolutionary; as a destruction of the great principle of the equality of the two Houses; as a denial to the peers of their right to form and act upon their own deliberate judgment; and as a reduction of their position to that of a body existing merely to register the decrees of the other House. Indeed, that it had this character was admitted by Lord Grey himself, with no abatement beyond such mitigation as might be found in the idea that it was only intended to affect their decision on a single question. So far it may be said that even while defending it he condemned it;
Habemus confitentem reum. But the task of a ruler or legislator is often but a choice between difficulties, or even between manifest evils. And, even if an act or course be admitted to be intrinsically evil, taken by itself, yet, if the evil which it is calculated or designed to avert be a greater evil still, the defence is complete, or, at all events, sufficient. And this, in fact, is the principle of the justification which Lord Grey alleged. He was, perhaps, unconsciously referring to a passage in Mr. Hallam's great work on "Constitutional History" (then very recently published), in which, while discussing Sunderland's Peerage Bill, and admitting that "the unlimited prerogative of augmenting the peerage is liable to such abuses, at least in theory, as might overthrow our form of government," he proceeds to point out that in the exercise of this, as of every other power, "the crown has been carefully restrained by statutes, and by the responsibility of its advisers;" but that, while "the Commons, if they transgress their boundaries, are annihilated by a proclamation" (that is, by a dissolution) "against the ambition, or, what is much more likely, the perverse haughtiness of the aristocracy, the constitution has not furnished such direct securities.... The resource of subduing an aristocratical faction by the creation of new peers could never be constitutionally employed, except in the case of a nearly equal balance; but it might usefully hang over the heads of the whole body, and deter them from any gross excesses of faction or oligarchical spirit. The nature of our government requires a general harmony between the two Houses of Parliament."[219] In the present case no one could impute the difference between the two Houses to any "perverse haughtiness" on the part of the peers. But the difference existed, and was too deeply founded on the cautious principles of the Tory party to be surmountable by ordinary means. It was certain also that the Commons would not give way; that, without danger to the public peace, they could not give way. And this was, in fact, Lord Grey's contention: that a crisis had arisen in which compulsion must be exercised on one or other of the disagreeing parties; and that coercion of the peers by an augmentation of their number, or a threat of it, was the only compulsion practicable. In upholding this position, however, it must be remarked that he was betrayed into the use of language which was as great a violation of constitutional and parliamentary principle and usage as the action which he was recommending; language, too, which was quite unnecessary to strengthen his argument. He accused the Lords of "opposing the declared and decided wishes both of the crown and the people;" of "acting adversely to the crown;" and this introduction of the sovereign's name to overawe the assembly was unconstitutional in the highest degree. For, constitutionally, the sovereign has no right to signify his opinion, nor, indeed, any recognized means of signifying it but by giving or withholding his royal assent to measures which the two Houses have passed. On any bill which has not yet been passed by them he has, as has been already implied, no legitimate means whatever of expressing his judgment. The time has not come for him to do so. Moreover, the statement was, probably, not believed by any one to be strictly true, for it was pretty generally understood that the King would have preferred a far more moderate measure. But, indeed, in the very speech in which the Prime-minister made this use of the King's name he presently added an observation which was a sufficient condemnation of his previous language. For, in denouncing the "vile attacks which had been made on his Majesty in the public press," and disclaiming all share in them (a disclaimer which however true of himself, could not, it is believed, have been uttered with equal truth by all his colleagues), he pointed out that "it ought always to be recollected that it is contrary to the principles of the constitution to arraign the personal conduct of the sovereign." It follows, as a matter of course, that it is equally contrary to those principles to allege his personal opinions in either House on any measure before it, since, if alleged, they must be open to criticism; unless, indeed, the mere allegation of the royal sentiments were to be taken as decisive of the question, in which case all freedom of discussion would be at once extinguished.