The Sun.
London, England, 1865-07-06 00:00:00

WESTMINSTER.

Last evening the first public meeting called for
the electors of Westminster to hear Mr. J. Stuart
Mill was held in St. James's-hall. The spacious hall
was crowded almost as soon as the doors were open.
Dr. Lankester occupied the chair.
Mr. MILL, on rising to address the meeting, we
received with the utmost enthusiasm. The people
rose en masse, and waved their hats and cheered, and
again and again renewed the cheers. When silence
was restored he said it was probable that many per-
sons present might desire that he should explain why
he had hitherto abstained from all the ordinary
practices of a candidate for Parliament in refraining
from appearing publicly to meet the electors. His
reasons for so acting had been stated in a letter
which he addressed to the electors. When he said in
his letter that he did not desire for his own sake to be
elected, he meant what he said. He had no personal
object to gain in entering Parliament, but on the other
hand he should do so at a sacrifice, for he should
sacrifice that liberty which he had just gained after
the restraints in office of many years' continuance.
Ile mentioned this because many persons seemed to
think that a writer like himself could have had no
experience or knowledge of pUblic business, but the
fact was that for 35 years every day of his life had
been passed in the actual business of Government.
These personal considerations he cast aside, but one
thing he could not cast aside—the dislike he had of
the ordinary modes in which the suffrages of the elec-
tors were sought. To be selected by a large body of
his fellow-countrymen as the representative of what
was highest in their minds—of their consciences, of
their understandings, of their sincere convictions,
and of their patriotic feelings—was one of the highest
honours that it was possible for a citizen of a free
country to receive. (Loud cheers.) But he could
not consent to represent in Parliament that part of
the electoral body whose minds were to be got at
by money—to be reached by trickery, by saying one
thing and meaning another, by making promises
which were not intended to be acted upon, and which,
being contrary to one's own convictions, it would be
the greater breach of morality to keep. Such a re-
presentation he should not regard as an honour, but
as a disgrace. (Cheers.) When, therefore, a body of
this great constituency made him the most flatter-
ing proposal of presenting him for their suffrages, he
replied if it were so it should not be by laying out
£lO,OOO in corrupting and debauching that part of
the constituency which was corruptible and debauch-
able, and neither should it be by any pledges, ex-
cept it was the single pledge to be always open and
above board. (Loud cheers.) He would not become
a candidate if he was to solicit their votes, for he
was against the whole system of solicitation of votes
as a mistake; not that he condemned those who
solicited votes, so long, however, as they did not
make a bad custom worse than they found it. A
seat in Parliament should not be a matter for solici-
tation, because it could not be a matter of favour.
The candidate had no right to ask such favour of
the voter, for the voter had no right in the matter
but to select the fittest man, or who appeared so.
(Cheers.) To the honour of Westminster a body of
men were found who were sufficiently alive to what
was due to public principle, who were sufficiently so-
licitous of their own honour and the honour of the
constituency, to say that not the man who did those
things, but the man who would not do them, was
the man of their choice. (Cheers.) It remained to be
seen if the electors of Westminster thought so too. It
would have been quite inconsistent with these opi-
nions for him to have gone round and asked them for
their votes. His principle was that they should elect
the fittest man, and would it have been decent for
him to have come among them and said, "I am the
fittest man ?" He told them to elect the man of
greatest merit ; and what would they have thought
of him if he stood before them and said, " Here's the
man of merit—choose me ?" (Cheers.) He was not
there because he proposed himself, but because he
was proposed by others. Let them not suppose he
thought all the fine things of himself which others
with so much exaggeration, but with a strength and
out of a depth of kindly feeling, had said of him.
All this was to be excused at an election time, for
then a man was unduly praised, as well as unduly
attacked. (Cheers.) Ile had two reasons for coming
forward now. He was told that many desired to
know more of him than they had gathered from his
writings, and this had left him no option but to ap-
pear bJore them, and this waS the only pledge he
could give—that he would fairly and openly answer
anything they would like to ask of him. (Cheers.)
It would have been easy in him to have put forth a
profession of political faith, which need not have
been one of those wishy-washy colourless addresses
found in the papers now, and which might with equal
propriety be signed by either Tory or Whig, and
were consistent with almost every vote. Ile could
have put forth a list of political principles with which
he entirely agreed, and might have passed gently
over all subjects on which there were differences, and
observed a discreet silence about principles which
which would have startled any one. Ile had put
forth no address, but, instead, he undertook to

answer unreservedly any question put to him, and
he had done so in a manner that had created a sort

of scandal in the electioneering world. What pledged
him to say anything about women's votes, or the re-

presentation of minorities ? Was it likely that any
questions about those topics would have been put
to him ? They had, however, asked him about his
ideas on reform, and being asked it did not seem

consistent with his views of plain dealing to keep
back any of his opinions. (Cheers.) By speaking
warmly he lowered himself greatly in the opinions
of many of those persons who thought it a clever
thing in a candidate to dissemble, and to resort to
Anew in order to save him from committing himself
to anything if he could help it. When he stated
what he thought, " How injudicious," said one,
flow impracticable," said another. " How can

..
you possibly expect to be elected on such a pro-
gramme ?" said a sincere friend. To this he asked
them to consider on the one hand if he had a choice

whether he should rather choose to be honest than
be elected--(loud cheers, which continued for several

minutes)—and on the other that perhaps the electors
of Westminster had a taste for honesty as well.
The most practical thing was honesty, and perhaps
they would live to learn this lesson. 'Without at-

tempting to travel through the whole catalogue ol
political topics, he would announce himself as a can-

didate of advanced Liberalism, and he would tell
them what he thought this meant. Mr. Gladstone
—(cheers)—in one of those memorable speeches
which had made every sincere Reformer in the
country look to him as the future Parliamentary
chief—(cheers)—gave his definition of the difference
between a Tory and a Liberal. He said that

__—
Liberalism was trust in the people only limited by
prudence, and that Toryism was distrust of the

people limited only by fear. However good and
happy this distinction might be, there was another
which might be given. The view which might be
taken of a Liberal was that he was one who looked
forward for his principles of Government, while the
Tory was one who looked backward for his. The
Tory was of opinion that the real model of good
government was somewhere behind, in that region
from which we were departing further and further
every day ; that it was in the subjection and de-
pendence of the great masses of the community
in temporal matters on hereditary possessors of
wealth, and in spiritual matters on the Church. The
Tory to the last moment opposed all things which
departed from this model, and when beaten accepted
his defeat as a necessity of the day, but still looked
for the means of good government on the restora-
tion of the feudal principle. The Liberal had views
far different from that, for he was of opinion that
we had not yet arrived at a perfect model of go-
vernment, and had not seen such except in outline,
but he looked for it before and not behind, and he
saw that it lay in the emancipation of the dependent
classes. (Cheers.) It lay in more freedom, more
equality, more responsibility of each person for him-
self. (Cheers.) He then went on to urge that it was
a shame for Westminster that there should be a
doubt as to the result of the debasing influences
brought to bear in this election, and reminded them,
in conclusion, that it was the good name of West-
minster that was at stake in this contest, for, he
said, if money win in this ancient borough West-

minster will have fallen from her high glory, and
the cause of popular institutions will have to go
forward without this great Liberal city. The
speaker then resumed his seat amid loud and long
continued applause.

Various questions were asked aid answered, and
after speeches by Mr. Malleson, Professor Fawcett,
Mr. H. Vincent, the Hon. L. Stanley, Mr. Montagu
Chambers, Q.C., Mr. T. B. Potter, and a lady, a
vote pledging the meeting to support Mr. Mill was
carried with acclamation.