assume more horrible features from the increasing use of gin. Sir Joseph Jekyll was especially concerned at the excess of this vulgar vice, and at the misery which it was diffusing amongst the lowest classes of society in large towns, and especially in London. The justices of Middlesex presented a joint petition to the house of commons, representing the alarming pitch to which the evil had grown; that it had already destroyed thousands of the people since gin became a cheap liquor; that it was undermining labour, exciting to all sorts of crime and debauch; and that it was now sold by so many persons of inferior trades, that it was brought preeminently into the way of journeymen, apprentices, and servants.
Sir Joseph Jekyll proposed in committee that a heavy tax should be laid on this pernicious liquor, which should put it out of the reach of the working classes — namely, a duty of twenty shillings per gallon on all sold retail, and fifty pounds yearly for the license to every retailer. This benevolent man had not arrived at the grand truth, that nothing but a sound education will ever effectually root out this or any other vice, and that to tax a crime is only to stop up one vent of it, and to occasion its bursting out in half-a-dozen other places. Every man acquainted at all with matters of revenue, though wholly inexperienced in the science of morals, could have told him that his tax would only drive the trade out of the hands of the licensed dealers into those of smugglers. Sir Robert Walpole saw this clearly; and though he would not oppose the bill for this purpose, he predicted that parliament would soon be called upon to modify its provisions. The small duties heretofore levied on this article had brought in about seventy thousand pounds annually; and, as the excise had been made over to the crown, this sum went to the civil list. Walpole demanded, therefore, that whatever deficiency of this sum should be produced by the new regulations should be made up to the civil list.
The whole measure excited a great clamour out of doors. It was regarded as an invidious attempt to abridge the comforts of the people, whilst those of the wealthy remained untouched. The clause proposed by Walpole to protect the revenue was assailed with much fury both in and out of the house. It was said that the minister was quite indifferent to the morals of the people on the one hand, or to their enjoyment on the other, so that the revenue did not suffer. The bill passed, as did also a fresh mortmain act, in addition to the numerous ones already on the statute-book.
An event which gave great offence to the dissenters, and threw them into the ranks of opposition, also occurred now. We have seen that Stanhope was anxious to have attempted the abolition of the Test Act in 1719. He was told that it was not yet the proper time; he must wait for "a more favourable opportunity." This "favourable opportunity" became the great cant phrase for putting off the dissenters whenever they urged the justice of this concession. They had been long steady and zealous supporters of government. In the hotly-contested election of 1734, they had shown themselves most active friends of the ministry, and had issued declarations, pledging themselves to vote for the ministerial candidates. But in return for this important support, they did not fail to repeat their solicitations for relief from the pressure of the Test Act. The reply of Walpole was always the same, that he was favourable to their claims, but that the time was not yet come. The patience of the dissenters was exhausted, and Dr. Chandler replied, "You have so repeatedly returned us this answer, that I trust you will allow me to ask when the time will come? "Walpole was thrown off his guard by the point-blank query, and exclaimed, in momentary pique, "Never!"
He must have rued the word ere it was well out of his mouth. The dissenters were now aware that they had been systematically hoaxed. They retired in disgust, and gave their indignant interest to the opposition. To recover himself a little, Walpole supported a bill for giving the quakers relief in the recovery of tithes. As they could not conscientiously pay them, they were harassed by serious law processes, and the object was to enable the recovery of them by a simple distraint, without power of imprisoning the defaulters. But it was soon declared by the church and tory parties that this was a direct attack upon the privileges of the church. Petitions were poured in from all sides, setting forth that "such a law would be extremely prejudicial to the clergy, and place the established church on a worse footing than any other portion of his majesty's subject. It would have been difficult to prove how exempting the bodies of defaulters, and taking their goods by a very simple, prompt, and effectual means, was injurious to the church, except it regarded vengeance as one of its privileges. It would, in truth, have been almost as much a relief to the clergy as to the quakers. The house of commons saw this, and passed the bill, but the attack was renewed in the peers. The lawyers were set upon it, and lords Talbot and Hardwicke, the lord chancellor and lord chief justice, criticised its wording, and opposed it with all their power. Gibson, bishop of London, exerted himself conspicuously to engage the rest of the bench against the bill, and it was thrown out. Walpole was greatly irritated by this defeat. He was under heavy obligations to the quakers, who in Norfolk had always zealously supported him, and that in many a fierce contest. He therefore sent for Gibson, and rated him soundly for his conduct. Nor did he satisfy himself with words. He had always consulted Gibson on ecclesiastical affairs, and he was considered so secure of the primacy on the death of archbishop Wake, that Whiston used to call him heir-apparent to the see of Canterbury; but from this moment his chance was lost. The archbishop died the next year, and Walpole, passing over the meddling Gibson, conferred the primacy on bishop Potter.
The session of parliament closing on the 26th of May, George took his annual trip to Hanover, leaving, as usual, the queen to act as regent. Much as George liked to visit his native country and relatives, he seems never to have had an idea that his wife might like it too. His father duly took his mistress with him on these favourite journies, but George was quite satisfied to enjoy himself, and leave the queen to the cares of government. She found these this year by no means light. Great numbers of Irish had flocked over, not only to assist in the harvest, but to settle down in Spitalfields as weavers. They could afford to work at two-thirds the wages of English weavers; and these being, consequently, thrown out of work, made a great clamour, and raised riots,
