frowns of Government. . . . The labours of my profession, great as they are, yet leave me some leisure both for domestic and even for literary enjoyments. In those enjoyments, in the retirement of my study, in the bosom of my family, in the affection of my relations, in the kindness of my friends, in the good-will of my fellow-citizens, in the uncourted popularity which I know that I enjoy, I find all the good that human life can supply; and I am not, whatever others may think of me, so blinded by a preposterous ambition as to wish to change, or even to risk, These sacred and homefelt delights, This sober certainty of waking bliss, for the pomp, and parade, and splendid restraints of office; for the homage and applause of devoted but interested dependants; for that admiration which the splendour of a high station, by whomsoever possessed, is always certain to command; and for a much larger, but a precarious, income, which must bring with it the necessity of a much larger expense. The highest office and the greatest dignity that the Crown has to bestow might make me miserable: it is impossible that it could render me happier than I already am.” 1 In the November issue of the Edinburgh Review (1817), Romilly published an article on Bentham's Papers relative to Codification and Public Instruction, in which he emphasised the disadvantages of unwritten law, spoke of Bentham with respect and admiration, but without disguising what were conceived to be his faults; and fully conscious of the master's sensitiveness to criticism, he expressed a hope that the strictures thus made would not cause any offence.2 The observations must have offended Bentham, however, as we shall see presently. The remainder of his parliamentary career, resumed with undiminished assiduity, may soon be told. His attempt to revoke the death penalty for shoplifting (February 25, 1818) has already been mentioned. He opposed-as usual, in vain-the Indemnity Bill (March 11), because its object, unlike that of ordinary Indemnity Bills, was, "in many cases, to annihilate rights of individuals, to rob the injured and oppressed of every remedy, to put them out of the pale of English law"; and because it was to operate not only in the case of occurrences under the Suspension Act, but also in that of abuses of authority extending 2 Ibid., p. 324. 1 Memoirs, vol. iii, pp. 310, 311. over a long period.1 He added that the first object of government, and the foundation of its whole fabric, is the rendering of justice to the oppressed; and he asked whether the wrongs inflicted on certain victims of ministerial action are to remain unredressed. "Do the gentlemen opposite imagine," he exclaimed, "that because they can suspend the laws of this country, they can suspend the laws of nature?" 2 Further, he brought to the notice of the House cases of horrible treatment of slaves in the West Indies, and insisted on the appointment of a committee of inquiry. "No man," he observed, "can venture to write in defence of the negroes without exposing himself to a prosecution; for all the severities and cruelties to which they are subjected are to be traced to the injustice of their legislatures and tribunals." He also denounced the cruelty of the game laws (May 18), and demanded, in vain, an investigation into cases of unwarrantable interference with the security of subjects and the liberty of the press (May 21). He reprobated the fettering of men charged with publishing a libel; for they had not committed felony, and, even if they had, they had not been legally convicted. He expressed amazement at the tenour of the attorney-general's admission "that the magistrates had, in some degree, exceeded their authority." "Was it not notorious," he asked, "that many persons construed every publication, offensive to the feelings of men in power, a libel? . . . The houses of the petitioners had been searched for papers, and papers called libels had been seized and taken away. Rollin's Ancient History, Law's Serious Call, and the Evangelical Magazine had been seized, because they were in company with the Liverpool Mercury and some of Cobbett's Registers. Such proceedings were most reprehensible." 4 In view of the expected dissolution of parliament, an offer came to Romilly (June 8) from Westminster, undertaking to return him without trouble or expense on his part, and requiring from him no pledge whatever. He replied that he would accept the honour if he were elected without his interference, and without having to offer himself as a candidate or do anything to secure his return. The election began June 18 and ended July 4, with Romilly at the head of the poll. Here we have to record—with regret an act of Bentham, done undoubtedly with sincerity, but ungenerously when directed against an old friend like Romilly. Among the strange incidents which occurred during the election," says Romilly, "was the decided part which my excellent friend, Jeremy Bentham, took against me. He did not vote, indeed; but he wrote a handbill, avowed and signed by him, in which he represented me to be a most unfit member for Westminster, as being a lawyer, a whig, and a friend only to moderate reform. This handbill he sent to Burdett's committee; but as it did not reach them till after they had become sensible that they had injured their cause by their abuse of me, they refused to publish it. Some of my friends were very angry with Bentham for this hostile interference against me. For myself, I feel not the least resentment at it. Though a late, I know him to be a very sincere, convert to the expediency of universal suffrage; and he is too honest in his politics to suffer them to be influenced by any considerations of private friendship." Romilly was true to his word. He bore his old friend no ill-will for this antagonistic intervention, and dined with him a month later, in the company of Brougham, Dumont, James Mill, Rush, the American minister, and others. Romilly made his last appearance in parliament on its reassembling, and resisted the government Bill of Indemnity, and the continuance of the Alien Act, empowering ministers to banish foreigners who were suspected of hostile intrigue. 3 On September 5, 1818, he writes in his journal that although his strength and activity are undiminished, his prospects of attaining the office of Lord Chancellor have lessened. "A few years more of active life with unimpaired faculties is the utmost I can hope for." He says he has awoke from his former splendid dreams, he has realised that the political principles professed by him, and with which he will go down to his grave, will for ever exclude him from royal favour. None the less, he is determined to do his utmost; if he cannot carry his cherished measures, he will resist what is pernicious, and act honestly and independently. He recognises that his election to an important constituency like that of Westminster has increased his means of being useful, but he sees that it has brought also certain difficulties-an expected obligation "to maintain more strenuously than ever the claims and pretensions of the people," and to pay his court to them. He is resolved, however, not to be their slave, even if 1 Burdett was one of the candidates; and in the result was second. he be their servant.1 But whatever hopes and expectations he still cherished were crushed in a tragically sudden manner. On October 29, 1818, his wife, who had been ill for several weeks, died at Cowes. To him this was the one irreparable calamity, the one unbearable affliction. He shut himself up in his house in Russell Square; and, four days after her death, he cut his throat with a razor (November 2). He survived only about an hour. At the inquest a verdict was returned of suicide during temporary derangement. Dumont, in his evidence, stated that the protracted illness of Lady Romilly had weighed heavily on her husband's mind, that he had been in a state of constant anxiety, and had appeared to have lost all hope of her recovery. "When Lady Romilly had a relapse," said Dumont, “nothing could equal the excruciating pain of Sir Samuel, but his fortitude and resignation. He was almost entirely deprived of sleep for about six weeks. . . . Twice or three times he himself expressed to me his fears of mental derangement. . . . Some conversation about his children generally restored a certain degree of peace to his mind. . . . Two days before the death of Lady Romilly .. he complained to me of a most tormenting and burning heat in his head." A day or two after her death, "he appeared to me in the state of a man dying from an internal wound." "I never could have imagined it possible that his invaluable life would have been terminated by such means, from the intimate knowledge which I had of his high principles of duty, of his moral and religious fortitude, of his love for his country, of his parental affection." Lady Romilly's remains had already been removed to Knill, and her funeral was delayed until the arrival of her husband's body; so that on November II they were buried together in the parish church. Romilly had six sons and a daughter. His second son, John (1802-1874), was educated at Trinity College, Cambridge, and called to the bar at Gray's Inn, 1827, of which he was afterwards a bencher. In 1832 he was a member of parliament for Bridport, and in 1847 for Devonport. He had a successful career at the Chancery bar. In 1843 he was made a queen's counsel; then solicitor-general (1848), and attorney-general (1850), in which capacity he carried through several civil law reforms that had been attempted by his father. In 1851 he became Master of the Rolls, and in 1865 was raised to the peerage as Baron Romilly. 1 Ibid., p. 412. 'Morning Chronicle, November 3, 1818. CHAPTER II ROMILLY'S PRINCIPLES OF CRIMINAL LAW, AND VIEWS AS TO ITS REFORM In the preceding brief chronicle of Romilly's life, and work in parliament, we have seen what great efforts he made to mitigate the rigour of the penal code, to harmonise it in accordance with more rational conceptions, to regularise criminal law procedure and administration, and, generally, to break down the barrier of prejudice and bigotry erected by his contemporaries, to show the folly and evil of their unreasoning adoration of the systemchaos, rather-established by their ancestors of blessed memory. The immediate legislative results were not, of course, commensurate with Romilly's efforts. But his pioneer work did much to wean his countrymen from their arrant obstinacy, and unrelenting hostility to reform, and to prepare the way for comprehensive measures of amelioration. His work in parliament had been, no doubt, facilitated a good deal by the rapid succession of Bentham's books and pamphlets, which, despite unfavourable circumstances, could not but make a deep impression on the minds of many people. Romilly often acknowledged his indebtedness to the teaching of the literary "hermit,” emphasised his inestimable services in setting penal legislation on a scientific basis, and, over and above all this, was devoted to him to the degree of fraternal affection. He had taken the precious manuscripts of Bentham to Dumont, had assisted in the publication of several writings, had helped considerably to diffuse many of the views expounded in them. But perfect accord between Romilly and Bentham there was not. Romilly's moderation and circumspection could scarcely be in harmony with Bentham's uncompromising radicalism. Romilly had a greater experience of men, and recognised that the citadel of tradition, held by overwhelming numbers, if it were to be taken at all, should be assailed warily, cautiously, step by step; that the attacking forces should be content with small results gradually won, and make sure of every operation and every inch of the ground until the ultimate achievement of complete victory. |
