forests of masts? Who can say that the huge chimneys of another
Manchester may not rise in the wilds of Connemara? For our
children we do not pretend to legislate. All that we can do for
them is to leave to them a memorable example of the manner in
which great reforms ought to be made. In the only sense,
therefore, in which a statesman ought to say that anything is
final, I pronounce this bill final. But in what sense will your
bill be final? Suppose that you could defeat the Ministers, that
you could displace them, that you could form a Government, that
you could obtain a majority in this House, what course would
events take? There is no difficulty in foreseeing the stages of
the rapid progress downward. First we should have a mock reform;
a Bassietlaw reform; a reform worthy of those politicians who,
when a delinquent borough had forfeited its franchise, and when
it was necessary for them to determine what they would do with
two seats in Parliament, deliberately gave those seats, not to
Manchester or Birmingham or Leeds, not to Lancashire or
Staffordshire or Devonshire, but to a constituent body studiously
selected because it was not large and because it was not
independent; a reform worthy of those politicians who, only
twelve months ago, refused to give members to the three greatest
manufacturing towns in the world. We should have a reform which
would produce all the evils and none of the benefits of change,
which would take away from the representative system the
foundation of prescription, and yet would not substitute the
surer foundation of reason and public good. The people would be
at once emboldened and exasperated; emboldened because they would
see that they had frightened the Tories into making a pretence of
reforming the Parliament; and exasperated because they would see
that the Tory Reform was a mere pretence. Then would come