Gentlemen of the Jury,

THE Attorney-General, in that part of his ad⯑dreſs which aroſe from a letter, ſuppoſed to have been written to him from France, exhibited ſigns of ſtrong ſenſibility and emotion. I do not, I am ſure, charge him with acting a part to ſeduce you; on the contrary, I am perſuaded from my own feelings, and from my acquaintance with my friend from our childhood upwards, that he expreſſed himſelf as he felt. But, gentlemen, if he felt thoſe painful embarraſſments, think what mine muſt be: he can only feel for the auguſt Character whom he repreſents in this place, as a ſubject for his Sovereign, too far removed by cuſtom, and by law, from the intercourſes which generate affec⯑tions, to produce any other ſentiments than thoſe that flow from a relation common to us all. But it will be remembered, that I ſtand in the ſame relation ^* towards another Great Perſon, more deep⯑ly implicated by this ſuppoſed letter; who, not reſtrained from the cultivation of perſonal attach⯑ment by thoſe qualifications which muſt always ſecure them, has exalted my duty of a ſubject to a Prince, into a warm and honeſt affection between [...] and man. Thus circumſtanced, I certainly ſh [...]uld have been glad to have had an earlier op⯑portunity of knowing correctly the content of this letter, and whether (which I poſitively deny) it [106]proceeded from the defendant. Coming thus ſud⯑denly upon us, I ſee but too plainly the impreſſion it has made upon you who are to try the cauſe, and I feel its weight upon myſelf, who am to con⯑duct it; but this ſhall neither detach me from my duty, nor, added to all the other difficulties th [...] thicken around me, enervate me (if I can hel [...] [...] in the diſcharge of it.

Gentlemen, if the Attorney Gen [...] [...] founded in the commentaries he has made to you upon this book which he proſecutes; if he is war⯑ranted by the law of England, in repreſſing its cir⯑culation through theſe realms, from the illegal and dangerous matters contained in it; if that ſup⯑preſſion be, as he avows it, and as in common ſenſe it muſt be, the ſole object of the proſecution, the public has great reaſon to lament that this let⯑ter ſhould have been at all brought into the ſervice of the cauſe: it is no part of the charge upon the record; it had no exiſtence for months after the work was compoſed and publiſhed; it was not even written, if written at all, till after he had been at Dover, in a manner inſultingly expelled from the country by the influence of government, and had become the ſubject of another country. It cannot, therefore, by any fair inference, even decypher the mind of the author when he com⯑poſed his work; ſtill leſs can it affect the con⯑ſtruction of the language in which the work it⯑ſelf is written. The introduction of this letter at all is, therefore, not only a departure from the charge, but a ſort of dereliction of the object of the proſecution, which is to condemn the book: for if the condemnation of the author is to be ob⯑tained, not by the work itſelf, but by collateral [107]matter not even exiſting when it was written, nor known to its various publiſhers throughout the kingdom, how can a verdict upon ſuch grounds condemn the work, or criminate other publiſhers, ſtrangers to the collateral matter on which the conviction may be obtained? I maintain, there⯑fore, that, upon every principle of ſound policy, as it affects the intereſts of the crown, and upon every rule of juſtice, as it affects the author of the Rights of Man, the letter ſhould be wholly diſ⯑miſſed from your conſideration.

Gentlemen, the Attorney General has thought it neceſſary to inform you, that a rumour had been ſpread, and had reached his ears, that he only car⯑ried on the proſecution as a public proſecutor, but without the concurrence of his own private judg⯑ment; and therefore to add the juſt weight of his own character to his public duty, and to repel what he thinks a calumny, he tells you that he ſhould have deſerved to have been driven from ſociety, if he had not arraigned the work and the author before you.

Here too we ſtand in ſituations very different. I have no doubt of the exiſtence of ſuch a rumour, and of its having reached his ears, becauſe he ſays ſo; but for the narrow circle in which any rumour, perſonally implicating my learned friend's charac⯑ter, has extended, I might appeal to the multitudes who ſurround us, and aſk, which of all them, except the few connected in office with the crown, ever heard of its exiſtence. But with regard to myſelf, every man who hears me at this moment, nay, the whole People of England, have been wit⯑neſſes to the calumnious clamour that, by every art, has been raiſed and kept up againſt me: In every [108]place, where buſineſs or pleaſure collect the public together, day after day my name and character have been the topics of injurious reflection. And for what—only for not having ſhrunk from the diſcharge of a duty which no perſonal advantage recommended, and which a thouſand difficulties repelled. But, gentlemen, I have no complaint to make, either againſt the printers of theſe libels, nor even againſt their authors; the greater part of them, hurried perhaps away by honeſt prejudices, may have believed they were ſerving their coun⯑try by rendering me the object of its ſuſpicion and contempt; and if there have been amongſt them others who have mixed in it from perſonal malice and unkindneſs, I thank God I can forgive them alſo.—Little indeed did they know me, who thought that ſuch proceedings would influence my conduct: I will for ever, at all hazards, aſſert the dignity, independence, and integrity of the ENGLISH BAR; without which, impartial juſtice, the moſt valuable part of the Engliſh conſtitution, can have no exiſtence. For, from the moment that any advocate can be permitted to ſay, that he will or will not ſtand between the crown and a ſubject arraigned in the court where he daily ſits to practiſe, from that moment the liberties of England are at an end. If the advocate refuſes to defend, from what he may think of the charge or of the defence, he aſſumes the character of the judge; nay, he aſſumes it before the hour of judgment; and, in proportion to his rank and re⯑putation, puts the heavy influence of, perhaps, a miſtaken opinion into the ſcale againſt the accuſed, in whoſe favour the benevolent principle of En⯑gliſh [109]law makes all preſumptions, and which com⯑mands the very Judge to be his counſel.

Gentlemen, it is now my duty to addreſs my⯑ſelf regularly and without digreſſion to the defence. And the firſt thing which preſents itſelf in the diſ⯑cuſſion of a judicial ſubject, and indeed of every other, is to ſtate diſtinctly, and with preciſion, what the queſtion is, and (where prejudice and miſre⯑preſentation have been exerted), to diſtinguiſh it accurately from what it is not. The queſtion then is NOT whether the conſtitution of our fathers, under which we live—under which I preſent myſelf before you, and under which alone you have any juriſdiction to hear me,—be or be not preferable to the conſtitution of America or France, or any other human conſtitution. For upon what principle can a court, conſtituted by the authority of any government, and adminiſtering a poſitive ſyſtem of law under it, pronounce a de⯑ciſion againſt the conſtitution which creates its au⯑thority; or the rule of action which its juriſdiction is to enforce? The common ſenſe of the moſt uninformed perſon muſt revolt at ſuch an abſurd ſuppoſition.

I have no difficulty, therefore, in admitting, that if by accident ſome or all of you were alienated in opinion and affection from the forms and princi⯑ples of the Engliſh government, and were im⯑preſſed with the value of that unmixed repreſen⯑tative conſtitution which this work recommends and inculcates, you could not, on that account, acquit the defendant. Nay, to ſpeak out plainly, I freely admit, that even if you were avowed ene⯑mies to monarchy, and devoted to republicaniſm, you would be nevertheleſs bound by your oaths, [110]as a jury ſworn to adminiſter Engliſh juſtice, to con⯑vict the author of the Rights of Man, if it were brought home to your conſciences, that he had ex⯑ceeded thoſe widely extended bounds which the ancient wiſdom and liberal policy of the Engliſh conſtitution have allotted to the range of a free preſs. I freely concede this, becauſe you have no juriſdiction to judge either the author or the work, by any rule but by the Engliſh law, which is the ſource of your authority. But having made this large conceſſion, it follows, by a conſequence ſo inevitable as to be invulnerable to all argument or artifice, that if, on the other hand, you ſhould be impreſſed (which I know you to be) not only with a dutiful regard, but with an enthuſiaſm, for the whole form and ſubſtance of your own government; and though you ſhould think that this work, in its circulation amongſt claſſes of men unequal to po⯑litical reſearches, may tend to alienate opinion, ſtill you cannot, upon theſe grounds, without a ſimilar breach of duty, convict the defendant of a libel, unleſs he has clearly ſtepped beyond that extended range of communication which the ſame ancient wiſdom and liberal policy of the Britiſh conſtitution has allotted for the liberty of the preſs.

Gentlemen, I admit, with the Attorney Gene⯑ral, that in every caſe where a court has to eſti⯑mate the quality of a writing, the mind and in⯑tention of the writer muſt be taken into the ac⯑count; the bona, or mala fides, as lawyers ex⯑preſs it, muſt be examined: for a writing may undoubtedly proceed from a motive, and be directed to a purpoſe, not to be decyphered by the mere conſtruction of the thing written. But wherever a writing is arraigned as ſeditious or ſlanderous, [111]not upon its ordinary conſtruction in language, nor from the neceſſary conſequences of its publi⯑cation, under any circumſtances and at all times, but that the criminality ſprings from ſome extrin⯑ſic matter, not viſible upon the page itſelf, nor univerſally operative, but capable only of being connected with it by evidence, ſo as to demon⯑ſtrate the effect of the publication, and the deſign of the publiſher; ſuch a writing, not libellous PER SE, cannot be arraigned as the author's work is arraigned upon the record before the court. I maintain, without the hazard of contradiction, that the law of England poſitively requires, for the ſecurity of the ſubject, that every charge of a li⯑bel complicated with extrinſic facts and circum⯑ſtances, dehors the writing, muſt appear literally upon the record, that the defendant may know what crime he is called upon to anſwer, and how to ſtand upon his defence. What crime is it that the defendant comes to anſwer for to day? what is the notice that I, who am his counſel, have from this parchment of the crime alleged againſt him? I come to defend his having written this book. The record ſtates nothing elſe: the charge of ſedition in the introduction is notoriouſly paper and pack-thread, and the innuendos cannot enlarge the ſenſe, or natural conſtruction of the text. The record does not ſtate any one extrinſic fact or cir⯑cumſtance, to render the work criminal, at one time more than another; it ſtates no peculiarity of time, or ſeaſon, or intention, not proveable from the writing itſelf, which is the naked charge upon record. There is nothing therefore which, upon any principle of Engliſh law, gives you any juriſ⯑diction beyond the conſtruction of the work itſelf; [112]and you cannot be juſtified in finding it criminal becauſe publiſhed at this time, unleſs it would have been a criminal publication under any cir⯑cumſtances, or at any other time.

The law of England then, both in its forms and ſubſtance, being the only rule by which the author or the work can be juſtified or condemned, and the charge upon the record being the naked charge of a libel, the cauſe reſolves itſelf into a queſtion of the deepeſt importance to us all, THE NATURE AND EXTENT OF THE LIBERTY OF THE ENGLISH PRESS.

But before I enter upon it, I wiſh to fulfil a duty to the defendant, which, if I do not deceive my⯑ſelf, is at this moment peculiarly neceſſary to his impartial trial.—If an advocate entertains ſenti⯑ments injurious to the defence he is engaged in, he is not only juſtified, but bound in duty, to conceal them; ſo, on the other hand, if his own genuine ſentiments, or any thing connected with his character or ſituation, can add ſtrength to his profeſſional aſſiſtance, he is bound to throw them into the ſcale: in addreſſing myſelf, therefore, to gentlemen not only zealous for the honour of Engliſh government, but viſibly indignant at any attack upon its principles, and who would, per⯑haps, be impatient of arguments from a ſuſpected quarter, I give my client the benefit of declaring, that I am, and ever have been, attached to the genuine principles of the Britiſh government; and that, however the court or you may reject the application, I defend him upon principles not only conſiſtent with its permanence and ſecu⯑rity, but, without the eſtabliſhment of which, it never could have had an exiſtence.

[113]The propoſition which I mean to maintain as the baſis of the liberty of the preſs, and without which it is an empty ſound, is this:

That every man, not intending to miſlead and to confound, but ſeeking to enlighten others with what his own reaſon and con [...]cience, however erroneouſly, dictate t [...] him as truth, may addreſs himſelf to the univerſal reaſon of a whole nation, either upon the ſubject of governments in gene⯑ral, or upon that of our own particular country: that he may analyſe the principles of its conſti⯑tution, point out its errors and defects, examine and publiſh its corruptions, warn his fellow-citi⯑zens againſt their ruinous conſequences, and ex⯑ert his whole faculties in pointing out the moſt advantageous changes in eſtabliſhments which he conſiders to be radically defective, or ſliding from their object by abuſe.—All this every ſub⯑ject of this country has a right to do, if he con⯑templates only what he thinks its happineſs, and but ſeeks to change the public mind by the con⯑viction which flows from reaſonings dictated by conſcience.

If, indeed, he writes what he does not think; if, contemplating the miſery of others, he wick⯑edly condemns what his own underſtanding ap⯑proves; or, even admitting his real diſguſt againſt the government or its corruptions, if he calumni⯑ates living magiſtrates, or holds out to individuals, that they have a right to run before the public mind in their conduct; that they may oppoſe by contumacy or force what private reaſon only diſ⯑approves; that they may diſobey the law, becauſe their judgment condemns it; or reſiſt the public will, becauſe they honeſtly wiſh to change it: he [114]is then a criminal upon every principle of ration⯑al policy, as well as upon the immemorial prece⯑dents of Engliſh juſtice; becauſe ſuch a perſon ſeeks to diſunite individuals from their duty to the whole, and excites to overt acts of miſcon⯑duct in a part of the community, inſtead of en⯑deavouring to change, by the impulſe of reaſon, that univerſal aſſent which, in this and in every country, conſtitutes the law for all.

I have therefore no difficulty in admitting that, if, upon an attentive peruſal of this work, it ſhall be found that the defendant has promul⯑gated any doctrines which tend to withdraw in⯑dividuals from their ſubjection to the law by which the whole nation conſents to be governed; nay, if the direct contrary ſhall not be found to be ſtudi⯑ouſly inculcated—if his book ſhall be found to have warranted or excited that unfortunate criminal who appeared here yeſterday to endeavour to re⯑lieve himſelf from impriſonment, by the deſtruc⯑tion of a priſon, while the law of impriſonment remained, or dictated to him the language of de⯑fiance which ran through his whole defence—if throughout the whole work there ſhall be found any ſyllable or letter, which ſtrikes at the ſecurity of property, or which hints that any thing leſs than the whole nation can conſtitute the law, or that the law, be it what it may, is not the inex⯑orable rule of action for every individual, I wil⯑lingly yield him up to the juſtice of the court.

Gentlemen, I ſay, in the name of Thomas Paine, and in his words as author of the Rights of Man, as written in the very volume that is charged with ſeeking the deſtruction of pro⯑perty,

[115] ‘The end of all political aſſociations is, The preſervation of the rights of man, which rights are liberty, property, and ſe⯑curity; that the nation is the ſource of all ſovereignty derived from it: the right of pro⯑perty being ſecured and inviolable, no one ought to be deprived of it, except in caſes of evident public neceſſity, legally aſcertain⯑ed, and on condition of a previous juſt in⯑demnity.’

Theſe are undoubtedly the rights of man—the rights for which all governments are eſtabliſhed—and the only rights Mr. Paine contends for; but which he thinks (no matter whether right or wrong) are better to be ſecured by a republican conſtitution than by the forms of the Engliſh government. He inſtructs me to admit, that, when government is once conſtituted, no indi⯑viduals, without rebellion, can withdraw their obedience from it—that all attempts to excite them to it are highly criminal, for the moſt ob⯑vious reaſons of policy and juſtice—that nothing ſhort of the will of a whole people can change or affect the rule by which a nation is to be go⯑verned—and that no private opinion, however honeſtly inimical to the forms or ſubſtance of the law, can juſtify reſiſtance to its authority, while it remains in force. The author of the Rights of Man not only admits the truth of all this doctrine, but he conſents to be convicted, and I alſo conſent for him, unleſs his work ſhall be found ſtudiouſly and painfully to inculcate theſe great principles of government which it is charged to have been written to deſtroy. Let [116]me not, therefore, be ſuſpected to be contending, that it is lawful to write a book pointing out de⯑fects in the Engliſh government, and exciting in⯑dividuals to deſtroy its ſanctions, and to refuſe obedience. But, on the other hand, I do con⯑tend, that it is lawful to addreſs the Engliſh na⯑tion on theſe momentous ſubjects, for had it not been for this unalienable right (thanks be to God and our fathers for eſtabliſhing it), how ſhould we have had this conſtitution which we ſo loud⯑ly boaſt of? If, in the march of the human mind, no man could have gone before the eſta⯑bliſhments of the time he lived in, how could our eſtabliſhment, by reiterated changes, have become what it is? If no man could have awak⯑ened the public mind to errors and abuſes in our government, how could it have paſſed on from ſtage to ſtage, through reformation and revolu⯑tion, ſo as to have arrived from barbariſm to ſuch a pitch of happineſs and perfection that the Attorney General conſiders it as profanation to touch it any further, or to look for any future amendment.

In this manner power has reaſoned in every age—government, in its own eſtimation, has been at all times a ſyſtem of perfection; but a free preſs has examined and detected its errors, and the people have happily reformed them: this freedom has alone made our government what it is, and alone can preſerve it; and therefore, un⯑der the banners of that freedom, to-day I ſtand up to defend Thomas Paine. But how, alas! ſhall this taſk be accompliſhed? How may I ex⯑pect from you what human nature has not made man for the performance of? How am I to ad⯑dreſs [117]your reaſons, or aſk them to pauſe, amidſt the torrent of prejudice which has hurried away the public mind on the ſubject you are to judge?

Was any Engliſhman ever ſo brought as a cri⯑minal before an Engliſh court of juſtice?—If I were to aſk you, gentlemen of the jury, what is the choiceſt fruit that grows upon the tree of Engliſh liberty, you would anſwer, SECURITY UNDER THE LAW. If I were to aſk the whole people of England, the return they looked for at the hands of government, for the burthens under which they bend to ſupport it, I ſhould ſtill be anſwered, SECURITY UNDER THE LAW; or, in other words, an impartial adminiſtration of juſtice. So ſacred, therefore, has the freedom or trial been ever held in England; ſo anxiouſly does Juſtice guard againſt every poſſible bias in her path, that if the public mind has been locally agitated upon any ſubject in judgment, the forum is either changed, or the trial poſtponed. The circulation of any paper that brings, or which can be ſuppoſed to bring, prejudice, or even well founded know⯑ledge, within the reach of a Britiſh tribunal, on the ſpur of an occaſion, is not only highly crimi⯑nal, but defeats itſelf, by leading to put off the trial which its object was to pervert. On this principle, his lordſhip will permit me to remind him, that on the trial of the Dean of St. Aſaph for a libel, or rather when he was brought to trial, the circulation of books by a ſociety favourable to his defence, was held by the noble lord, as Chief Juſtice of Cheſter, to be a reaſon for not trying the cauſe; although th [...]y contained no matter relative to the Dean, nor to the object of his trial; [118]being only extracts from ancient authors of high reputation, on the general rights of juries to con⯑ſider the innocence as well as the guilt of the ac⯑cuſed, yet ſtill, as the recollection of theſe rights was preſſed forward with a view to affect the pro⯑ceedings, to guard the principle the proceedings were poſtponed.

Is the defendant then to be the only exception to theſe admirable proviſions?—Is the Engliſh law to judge him, ſtript of [...]he armour with which its univerſal juſtice encircles all others?—Shall we, in the very act of judging him for detracting from the Engliſh government, furniſh him with ample matter for juſt reprobation, inſtead of detraction? Has not his cauſe been prejudged through a thou⯑ſand channels? Has not the work before you been daily publicly reviled, and his perſon held up to deriſion and reproach? Has not the public mind been excited, by crying down the very phraſe and idea of the Rights of Man? Nay, have not aſſoci⯑ations of gentlemen, I ſpeak it with regret, be⯑cauſe I am perſuaded, from what I know of ſome of them, that they, amongſt them at leaſt, thought they were ſerving the public; yet have they not, in utter contempt and ignorance of that conſtitu⯑tion of which they declare themſelves to be the guardians, publiſhed the groſſeſt attacks upon the defendant? Have they not, even while the cauſe has been ſtanding here in the paper for immediate trial, publiſhed a direct proteſt againſt the very work now before you; advertiſing in the ſame paper, though under the general deſcription of ſe⯑ditious papers, a reward on the conviction of any perſon who ſhould dare to ſell the book itſelf, to which their own publication was an anſwer?—The [119]Attorney-General has ſpoken of a forced circula⯑tion of this work; but how have theſe prejudging papers been circulated? we all know how: they have been thrown into our carriages in every ſtreet; they have met us at every turnpike; and they lie in the areas of all our houſes. To complete the triumph of prejudice, that high tribunal, of which I have the honour to be a member, (my learned friends know what I ſay to be true) has been drawn into this vortex of ſlander; and ſome of its mem⯑bers, for I do not ſpeak of the Houſe itſelf, have thrown the weight of their ſtations into the ſame ſcale.

By all means I maintain that this cauſe has been prejudged.

It may be ſaid, that I have made no motion to put off the trial for theſe cauſes, and that courts of themſelves take no cognizance of what paſſes elſewhere, without facts laid before them. Gen⯑tlemen, I know that I ſhould have had equal juſtice from that quarter, if I had brought myſelf within the rule. But when ſhould I have been better in the preſent aſpect of things? And there⯑fore I only remind you of all theſe hardſhips, that you may recollect that your judgment is to proceed upon that alone which meets you here, upon the evidence in the cauſe, and not upon ſuggeſtions deſtructive of every principle of juſtice.

Having diſpoſed of theſe foreign prejudices, I hope you will as little regard ſome arguments that have been offered to you in court. The letter which has been ſo repeatedly preſſed upon you, ought to diſmiſs even from your recollection; I have already put it out of the queſtion, as having been written long ſubſequent to the book, and as [120]being a libel on the king, which no part of the in⯑formation charges, and which may hereafter be proſecuted as a diſtinct offence. I conſider that letter beſides, and indeed have always heard it treated, as a forgery, contrived to injure the me⯑rits of the cauſe, and to embarraſs me perſonally in its defence. I have a right ſo to conſider it, becauſe it is unſupported by any thing ſimilar at an earlier period. The defendant's whole deport⯑ment, previous to the publication, has been wholly unexceptionable: he properly deſired to be given up as the author of the book, if any enquiry ſhould take place concerning it; and he is not affected in evidence, directly or indirectly, with any illegal or ſuſpicious conduct; not even with having ut⯑tered an indiſcreet or taunting expreſſion, nor with any one matter or thing, inconſiſtent with the duty of the beſt ſubject in England. His opinions in⯑deed were adverſe to our ſyſtem; but I maintain that OPINION is free, and that CONDUCT alone is amenable to the law.

Y [...]u are next deſi [...]ed to judge of the author's mind and intention, by the modes and extent of the circulation of his work. The firſt part of the Righ [...]s of Man, Mr. Attorney-General tells you, he did not proſecute, altho' it was in circulation thro' the country for a year and a half together, becauſe it ſeems it circulated only amongſt what he ſtiles the judicious part of the public, who poſſeſſed in their capacities and experience an antidote to the poiſon; but that with regard to the ſecond part now before you, its circulation had been forced into every corner of ſociety; had been printed and reprinted for cheapneſs even upon whited brown [121]paper, and had crept into the very nurſeries of children, as a wrapper for their ſweetmeats.

In anſwer to this ſtatement, which after all ſtands only upon Mr. Attorney General's own aſſertion, unſupported by any kind of proof (no witneſs having proved the author's perſonal inter⯑ference with the ſale), I ſtill maintain, that if he had the moſt anxiouſly promoted it, the queſtion would remain exactly the ſame: the queſtion would ſtill be [...] whether at the time when Paine compoſed his work, and promoted the moſt extenſive pur⯑chaſe of it, he believed or diſbelieved what he had written, and whether he contemplated [...]he hap⯑pineſs or the miſery of the Engliſh nation, to which it is addreſſed; and whichever of theſe intentions may be evidenced to your judgments upon read⯑ing the book itſelf, I confeſs I am utterly at a loſs to comprehend how a writer can be ſuppoſed to mean ſomething different from what he has writ⯑ten, by an anxiety (common I believe to all au⯑thors) that his work ſhould be generally read.

Remember, I am not aſking your opinions of the doctrines themſelves, you have given them al⯑ready pretty viſibly ſince I began to addreſs you; but I ſhall appeal not only to you, but to thoſe who, without our leave, will hereafter judge with⯑out appeal of all that we are doing to day; Whether, upon the matter which I haſten to lay before you, you can refuſe in juſtice to pronounce, that from his education—from the accidents and habits of his life—from the time and occaſion of the pub⯑lication—from the circumſtances attending it— and from every line and letter of the work itſelf, and all his other writings, before and even ſince, his [122]conſcience and underſtanding (no matter whether erroneouſly or not) were deeply and ſolemnly im⯑preſſed with the matters contained in his book,— that he addreſſed it to the reaſon of the nation at large, and not to the paſſions of individuals, and that in the iſſue of its influence, he contemplated only what appeared to him (though it may not to us) to be the intereſt and happineſs of England, and of the whole human race. In drawing the one or the other of theſe concluſions, the book ſtands firſt in order, and it ſhall now ſpeak for it⯑ſelf.

Gentlemen, the whole of it is in evidence be⯑fore you; the particular parts arraigned having only been read by my conſent, upon the preſump⯑tion that on retiring from the court, you would carefully compare them with the context, and all the parts with the whole viewed together. You cannot indeed do juſtice without it. The moſt common letter, even in the ordinary courſe of bu⯑ſineſs, cannot be read in a cauſe to prove an obli⯑gation for twenty ſhillings without the whole be⯑ing read, that the writer's meaning may be ſeen without deception. But in a criminal charge of only four pages and a half, out of a work con⯑taining nearly two hundred, you cannot, with even the appearance of common juſtice, pronounce a judgment without the moſt deliberate and cautious compariſon. I obſerve that the noble and learned judge confirms me in this obſervation. But if any given part of a work be legally explanatory of every other part of it, the preface, a fortiori, is the moſt material; becauſe the preface is the author's own key to his writing: it is there that he takes the reader by the hand, and introduces him to his ſub⯑ject: [123]it is there that the ſpirit and intention of the whole is laid before him by way of prologue. A preface is meant by the author as a clue to ignorant or careleſs readers: the author ſays by it, to every man who chooſes to begin where he ought, look at my plan—attend to my diſtinctions—mark the purpoſe and limitations of the matter I lay before you.

Let then the calumniators of Thomas Paine now attend to his preface, where, to leave no excuſe for ignorance or miſrepreſentation, he expreſſes himſelf thus:

Gentlemen, you muſt undoubtedly wiſh to deal with every man who comes before you in judg⯑ment, as you would be dealt by yourſelves; and ſurely you will not lay it down to day as a law to be binding hereafter even upon yourſelves, that if you ſhould publiſh any opinion concerning the exiſt⯑ing abuſes in your country's government, and point out to the whole public the means of amendment, you are to be acquitted or convicted as any twelve [125]men may happen to agree with you in your opi⯑nions. Yet this is preciſely what you are aſked to do to another: it is preciſely the caſe before you. Mr. Paine expreſsly ſays, I obey a law until it is repealed; obedience is not only my principle but my practice, ſince my diſobedience of a law from thinking it bad, might apply to juſtify another man in the diſobedience of a good one; and thus in⯑dividuals would give the rule for themſelves, and not ſociety for all.

Gentlemen, you will preſently ſee that the ſame principle pervades the reſt of the work; and I am the more anxious to call your attention to it, however repetition may tire you, becauſe it unfolds the whole principle of my argument: for, if you find a ſentence in the whole book that inveſts any individual, or any number of indivi⯑duals, or any community ſhort of the whole na⯑tion, with a power of changing any part of the law or conſtitution, I abandon the cauſe—YES, I freely abandon it, becauſe I will not affront the majeſty of a court of juſtice by maintaining propoſitions which, even upon the ſurface of them, are falſe. Mr. Paine, page 162—168, goes on thus:

‘When a nation changes its opinion and habits of thinking, it is no longer to be go⯑verned as before; but it would not only be wrong, but bad policy, to attempt by force what ought to be accompliſhed by reaſon. Rebellion conſiſts in forcibly oppoſing the general will of a nation, whether by a party or by a government. There ought, there⯑fore, [126]to be, in every nation, a method of occaſionall [...] aſcertaining the ſtate of public opinion with reſpect to government.’

‘There is, therefore, no power but the voluntary will of the people that has a right to act in any matter reſpecting a general re⯑form; and, by the ſame right that two per⯑ſons can confer on ſuch a ſubject, a thou⯑ſand may. The object in all ſuch prelimi⯑nary proceedings is, to find out what the general ſenſe of a nation is, and to be go⯑verned by it. If it prefer a bad or defective government to a reform, or chooſe to pay ten times more taxes than there is occaſion for, it has a right ſo to do; and, ſo long as the majority do not impoſe conditions on the minority different to what they impoſe on themſelves, though there may be much error, there is no injuſtice; neither will the error continue long. Reaſon and diſcuſſion will ſoon bring things right, however wrong they may begin. By ſuch a proceſs no tumult is to be apprehended. The poor, in all countries, are naturally both peaceable and grateful in all reforms in which their intereſt and happineſs are included. It is only by neglecting and rejecting them that they become tumultuous.’

Gentlemen, theſe are the ſentiments of the au⯑thor of the Rights of Man; and, whatever his opinions may be of the defects in our govern⯑ment, it never can change our ſentiments con⯑cerning it, if our ſentiments are juſt; and a writ⯑ing [127]can never be ſeditious in the ſenſe of the Engliſh law, which ſtates that the government leans on the univerſal will for its ſupport.

Gentlemen, this univerſal will is the beſt and ſecureſt title which his Majeſty and his family have to the throne of theſe kingdoms; and in proportion to the wiſdom of our inſtitutions, the title muſt in common ſenſe become the ſtronger: ſo little idea, indeed, have I of any other, that in my place in Parliament, not a week ago, I conſidered it as the beſt way of expreſſing my attachment to the conſtitution, as eſtabliſhed at the revolution, to declare (I believe in the pre⯑ſence of the heir apparent of the crown, for whom I have the greateſt perſonal zeal) that his Majeſty reigned in England, by choice and con⯑ſent, as the magiſtrate of the Engliſh people; not indeed a conſent and choice by perſonal election, like a King of Poland, the worſt of all poſſible conſtitutions; but by the election of a family for great national objects, in defiance of that heredi⯑tary right, which only becomes tyranny, in the ſenſe of Mr. Paine, when it claims to inherit a nation, inſtead of governing by their conſent, and continuing for its benefit.

Gentlemen, this ſentiment has the advantage of Mr. Burke's high authority, who ſays with great truth, in a letter to his conſtituents, ‘Too little dependance cannot be had at this time of day on names and prejudices: the eyes of mankind are opened; and communities muſt be held together by a viſible and ſolid inte⯑reſt.’ I believe, Gentlemen of the Jury, that the Prince of Wales will always render this title dear to the people. The Attorney General can [128]only tell you what he believes of him; I can tell you what I know, and what I am bound to de⯑clare, ſince this Prince may be traduced and ca⯑lumniated in every part of the kingdom, without its coming often in queſtion, till brought in to load a defence with matter collateral to the charge. I therefore aſſert what the Attorney General can only hope, that, whenever that Prince ſhall come to the throne of this country (which I hope, but by the courſe of nature, will never happen), he will make the conſtitution of Great Britain the foundation of all his conduct.

Having now, Gentlemen, eſtabliſhed the au⯑thor's general intention by his own introduction, which is the beſt and faireſt expoſition, let us next look at the occaſion which gave it birth.

The Attorney General, throughout the whole courſe of his addreſs to you (I knew it would be ſo), has avoided the moſt diſtant notice or hint of any circumſtance having led to the appearance of the author in the political world, after a ſilence of ſo many years; he has not even pronounced, or even glanced at the name of Mr. Burke, but has left you to take it for granted that the defendant volunteered this delicate and momentous ſubject; and that, without being led to it by the provo⯑cation of political controverſy, he had ſeized a favourable moment to ſtigmatiſe, from mere malice, and againſt his own confirmed opinions, the Conſtitu [...]ion of this Cou [...]t [...]y.

Gentlemen, my learned friend knows too well my reſpect and value for him to ſuppoſe that I am charging him w [...]th a wilful ſuppreſſion; I know him to be incapable of it; he knew it would come from me. He will premit me, [129]however, to lament that it ſhould have been left for me, at this late period of the cauſe, to inform you, that, not only the work before you, but the Firſt Part, of which it is a natural continuation, were written avowedly, and upon the face of them, IN ANSWER TO MR. BURKE. They were writ⯑ten beſides under circumſtances which I ſhall hereafter explain, and in the courſe of which explanation I may have occaſion to cite a few paſſages from the works of that celebrated perſon. And I ſhall ſpeak of him with the high⯑eſt reſpect: for, with whatever contempt he may delight to look down upon my humble talents, however he may diſparage the principles which direct my public conduct, he ſhall never force me to forget the regard which this country owes to him for the writings which he has left upon record for the illumination of our moſt diſtant poſterity. After the gratitude which we owe to God for the divine gifts of reaſon and un⯑derſtanding, our next thanks are due to thoſe from the fountain of whoſe enlightened minds they are fed and fructified. But pleading, as I do, the cauſe of freedom of opinions, I ſhall not give offence by remarking that this great author has been thought to have changed ſome of his; and, if Thomas Paine had not thought ſo, I ſhould not now be addreſſing you, becauſe the book which is my ſubject would never have been written. Who is right and who is wrong, in the contention of doctrines, I have repeatedly diſ⯑claimed to be the queſtion; I can only ſay that Mr. Paine may be right throughout, but that Mr. Burke cannot—Mr. Paine has been uniform in his opinions, but Mr. Burke has not—Mr. [130]Burke can only be right in part; but, ſhould Mr. Paine be even miſtaken in the whole, ſtill I am not removed from the principle of his de⯑fence. My defence has nothing to do with ei⯑ther the concealment or rectitude of his doc⯑trines. I admit Mr. Paine to be a republican; you ſhall ſoon ſee what made him one—I do not ſeek to ſhade or qualify his attack upon our con⯑ſtitution; I put my defence on no ſuch matter— he undoubtedly means to declare it to be defec⯑tive in its forms, and contaminated with abuſes, which, in his judgment, will one day or other bring on the ruin of us all: it is in vain to mince the matter; this is the ſcope of his work. But ſtill, if it contains no attack upon the King's Majeſty, nor upon any other living magiſtrate; if it excites to no reſiſtance to magiſtracy, but, on the contrary, if it even inculcates, as it does, obe⯑dience to government, then, whatever may be its defects, the queſtion continues as before, and ever muſt remain an unmixed queſtion of the li⯑berty of the preſs. I therefore conſidered it as no breach of profeſſional duty, nor injurious to the cauſe I am defending, to expreſs my own admiration of the real principles of our conſtitu⯑tion— a conſtitution which I hope never to ſee give way to any other—a conſtitution which has been productive of various benefits, and which will produce many more hereafter, if we have wiſdom e [...]ough to pluck up thoſe weeds that grow in the richeſt ſoils and amongſt the bright⯑eſt flowers. I agree with the merchants of London, that the Engliſh government is equal to the reformation of its own abuſes; and, as an in⯑habitant of the city, I would have ſigned their [131]Declaration, if I had known, of my own know⯑ledge, the facts recited in its preamble. But abuſes the Engliſh conſtitution unqueſtionably has which call loudly for reformation, the exiſtence of which has been the theme of our greateſt ſtateſmen, which have too plainly formed the principles of the defendant, and created the very conjuncture which produced his book.

Gentlemen, we all but too well remember the calamitous ſituation in which our country ſtood but a few years ago—a ſituation which no man can look back upon without horror, nor feel himſelf ſafe from relapſing into again, while the cauſes remain which produced it. The event I allude to you muſt know to be the American war and the ſtill exiſting cauſes of it, the corrup⯑tions of this government. In thoſe days it was not thought virtue by the patriots of England to conceal their exiſtence from the people; but then, as now, authority condemned them as diſ⯑affected ſubjects, and defeated the ends they ſought by their promulgation.

Hear the opinion of Sir George Saville;—not his ſpeculative opinion concerning the ſtructure of our government in the abſtract, but his opi⯑nion of the ſettled abuſes which prevailed in his own time, and which continue at this moment. But firſt let me remind you who Sir George Sa⯑ville was—I fear we ſhall hardly look upon his like again—How ſhall I deſcribe him to you?— In my own words I cannot. I was lately com⯑mended by Mr. Burke, in the Houſe of Com⯑mons, for ſtrengthening my own language by an appeal to Dr. Johnſon. Were the honourable gentleman preſent at this moment, he would no [132]doubt doubly applaud my choice in reſorting to his own works for the deſcription of Sir George Saville:

‘His fortune is among the largeſt; a for⯑tune, which, wholly unincumb [...]red as it is, without one ſingle charge from luxury, vanity, or exceſs, ſinks under the benevolence of its diſpenſer. This private benevolence, ex⯑panding itſelf into patriotiſm, renders his whole being the eſtate of the public, in which he has not reſerved a peculium for himſelf of profit, diverſion, or relaxation. During the ſeſſion, the firſt in, and the laſt out of the Houſe of Commons; he paſſes from the ſenate to the camp; and, ſeldom ſeeing the ſeat of his anceſtors, he is always in Parliament to ſerve his country, or in the field to defend it.’

It is impoſſible to aſcribe to ſuch a character any principle but patriotiſm, when he expreſſed himſelf as follows:

‘I return to you baffled and diſpirited, and I am ſorry that truth obliges me to add, with hardly a ray of hope of ſeeing any change in the miſerable courſe of public ca⯑lamities.’

‘On this melancholy day of account, in rendering up to you my truſt, I deliver to you your ſhare of a country maimed and weakened; its treaſure laviſhed and miſ⯑ſpent; its honours faded; and its conduct the laughing-ſtock of Europe: our nation [133]in a manner without allies or friends, ex⯑cept ſuch as we have hired to deſtroy our fellow-ſubjects, and to ravage a country, in which we once claimed an invaluable ſhare. I return to you ſome of your prin⯑cipal privileges impeached and mangled. And, laſtly, I leave you, as I conceive, at this hour and moment fully, effectually, and abſolutely, under the diſcretion and power of a military force, which is to act without waiting for the authority of the ci⯑vil magiſtrates.’

‘Some have been accuſed of exaggerating the public misfortunes, nay, of having en⯑deavoured to help forward the miſchief, that they might afterwards raiſe diſcon⯑tents. I am willing to hope, that neither my temper, nor my ſituation in life, will be thought naturally to urge me to promote miſery, diſcord, or confuſion, or to exult in the ſubverſion of order, or in the ruin of property. I have no reaſon to contemplate with pleaſure the poverty of our country, the increaſe of our debts, and of our taxes; or the decay of our commerce.—Truſt not, however, to my report: reflect, compare, and judge for yourſelves.’

‘But, under all theſe diſheartening cir⯑cumſtances, I could yet entertain a cheerful hope, and undertake again the commiſſion with alacrity, as well as zeal, if I could ſee any effectual ſteps taken to remove the ori⯑ginal couſe of the miſchief—'Then would there be a hope.’

‘But, till the Purity of the conſtituent [134]body, and thereby that of the repreſentative, be reſtored, there is NONE.’

‘I gladly embrace this moſt public opportuni⯑ty of delivering my ſentiments, not only to all my conſtituents, but to thoſe likewiſe not my conſtituents, whom yet, in the large ſenſe, I repreſent, and am faithfully to ſerve.’

‘I look upon reſtoring election and repre⯑ſentation in ſome degree (for I expect no miracles) to their original purity, to be that, without which all other efforts will be vain and ridiculous.’

‘If ſomething be not done, you may, in⯑deed, retain the outward form of your con⯑ſtitution, but not the power thereof.’

Such were the words of that great good man, loſt with thoſe of many others of his time, and his fame, as far as power could hurt it, put in the ſhade along with them. The conſequences we have all ſeen and felt: America, from an obedient affectionate colony, became an independent nation; and two millions of people, nurſed in the very lap of our monarchy, became the willing ſubjects of a republican conſtitution.

Gentlemen, in that great and calamitous con⯑flict Mr. Burke and Mr. Paine fought in the ſame field of reaſon together, but with very different ſucceſſes. Mr. Burke ſpoke to a parliament in England, ſuch as Sir George Saville deſcribes it, that had no ears but for ſounds that flattered its corruptions. Mr. Paine, on the other hand, ſpoke TO A PEOPLE; reaſoned with them, that they were bound by no ſubjection to any ſovereignty, [135]further than their own benefits connected them; and by theſe powerful arguments prepared the minds of the American people for that GLORIOUS, JUST, and HAPPY revolution.

Gentlemen, I have a right to diſtinguiſh it by that appellation, becauſe I aver that at this mo⯑ment there is as ſacred a regard to property; as inviolable a ſecurity to all the rights of individuals; lower taxes; fewer grievances; leſs to deplore, and more to admire, in the conſtitution of America, than that of any other country under heaven. I wiſh indeed to except our own, but I cannot even do that, till it ſhall be purged of thoſe abuſes which, though they obſcure and deform the ſurface, have not as yet (thank God) deſtroyed the vital parts.

Why then is Mr. Paine to be calumniated, and reviled, becauſe out of a people conſiſting of near three millions, he alone did not remain attached in opinion to a monarchy. Remember, that all the blood which was ſhed in America, and to which he was for years a melancholy and indignant wit⯑neſs, was ſhed by the authority of the crown of Great Britain, under the influence of its parliament, ſuch as Sir George Saville has deſcribed it, and ſuch as Mr. Burke himſelf will be called upon by and by in more glowing colours to paint it. How then can it be wondered at that Mr. Paine ſhould return to this country in his heart a republican? Was he not equally republican when he wrote Common Senſe? yet that volume has been ſold without reſtraint or proſecution in every ſhop in England ever ſince, and which nevertheleſs (I appeal to the book, which I have in court, and which is in every body's hands) contains every one prin⯑ciple of government, and every abuſe in the Bri⯑tiſh [136]conſtitution, which is to be found in the Rights of Man. Yet Mr. Burke himſelf ſaw no reaſon to be alarmed at its publication, nor to cry down its contents, even when America, which was ſwayed by it, was in arms againſt the crown of Great-Britain. You ſhall hear his opinion of it, in his letter to the ſheriffs of Briſtol, pages 33 and 34.

‘The court gazette accompliſhed what the abettors of independence had attempted in vain. When that diſingenuous compilation, and ſtrange medley of railing and flattery, was adduced, as a proof of the united ſenti⯑ments of the people of Great-Britain, there was a great change throughout all America. The tide of popular affection, which had ſtill ſet towards the parent country, began im⯑mediately to turn, and to flow with great ra⯑pidity in a contrary courſe. Far from con⯑cealing theſe wild declarations of enmity, the author of the celebrated pamphlet which pre⯑pared the minds of the people for indepen⯑dence, inſiſts largely on the multitude and the ſpirit of theſe addreſſes; and draws an argument from them, which (if the fact were as he ſuppoſes) muſt be irreſiſtible. For I never knew a writer on the theory of govern⯑ment ſo partial to authority, as not to allow, that the hoſtile mind of the rulers to their people, did fully juſtify a change of govern⯑ment; nor can any reaſon whatever be given, why one people ſhould voluntarily yield any degree of pre-eminence to another, but on a ſuppoſition of great affection and benevo⯑lence towards them. Unfortunately your [137]rulers, truſting to other things, took no notice of this great principle of con⯑nexion.’

But there is a time, it ſeems, for all things.

Gentlemen, the conſequences of this mighty revolution are too notorious to require illuſtra⯑tion. No audience would ſit to hear (what eve⯑ry body has ſeen and felt,) the independence of America notoriouſly produced, not by remote and circuitous effect, but directly and palpably, the revolutions which now agitate Europe, and which portend ſuch new changes over the face of the earth. Let governors take warning. The revo⯑lution in France was the conſequence of her in⯑curably corrupt and profligate government. God forbid that I ſhould be thought to lean, by this declaration, upon her unfortunate monarch, bending, perhaps at this moment, under afflic⯑tions which my heart ſinks within me to think of; but, when I ſpeak with deteſtation of the former politics of the French court, I faſten as little of them upon that fallen and unhappy prince, as I impute to our gracious ſovereign the corruptions of our own government. I deſire, indeed, in the diſtincteſt manner, to be under⯑ſtood that I mean to ſpeak of his Majeſty, not only with that obedience and duty which I owe to him as a ſubject, but with that juſtice which I think is due to him from all men who examine his conduct either in public or private life.

Gentlemen, Mr. Paine happened to be in England when the French revolution took place [138]and notwithſtanding what he muſt be ſuppoſed and allowed from his hiſtory to have felt upon ſuch a ſubject, he remained wholly ſilent and inactive. The people of this country too appear⯑ed to be indifferent ſpectators of the animating ſcene. They ſaw, without viſible emotion, deſ⯑potiſm deſtroyed, and the King of France, by his own conſent, become the firſt magiſtrate of a free people. Certainly, at leaſt, it produced none of thoſe effects which are ſo deprecated by government at preſent; nor, moſt probably, ever would, if it had not occurred to the celebrated perſon, whoſe name I muſt ſo often mention, voluntarily to provoke the ſubject; a ſubject which, if dangerous to be diſcuſſed, he ſhould not have led to the diſcuſſion: for, ſurely, it is not to be endured, that any private man is to publiſh a creed for a whole nation; to tell us that we are not to think for ourſelves—to impoſe his own fetters upon the human mind—to dog⯑matiſe at diſcretion—and that no man ſhall ſit down to anſwer him without being guilty of a libel. I aſſert, that if it be a libel to miſtake our conſtitution—to ſupport it by means that tend to deſtroy it—and to chooſe the moſt danger⯑ous ſ [...]aſon for the interference, Mr. Burke is that libeller; but not therefore the object of a crimi⯑nal proſecution: for, whilſt I am defending the motives of one man, I have neither right nor diſ⯑poſition to criminate the motives of another. All I contend for, is a fact that cannot be contro⯑verted, viz. that this officious interference was the origin of Mr. Paine's book. I put my cauſe upon its being the origin of it—the avowed origin [139]—as will abundantly appear from the introduc⯑tion and preface to both parts, and throughout the whole body of the work; nay, from the very work of Mr. Burke himſelf, to which both of them are anſwers.

Gentlemen, for the hiſtory of that celebrated work, I appeal to itſelf.

When the French revolution had arrived at ſome of its early ſtages, a few, and but a few, perſons (not to be named when compared with the nation) took a viſible intereſt in theſe mighty events; an intereſt well worthy of Engliſhmen. They ſaw a pernicious ſyſtem of government, which had led to cruel deſolating wars, and had been for ages the ſcourge of Great Britain, giving way to a ſyſtem which ſeemed to promiſe har⯑mony and peace amongſt the nations. They ſaw this with virtuous and peaceable ſatisfaction: And a reverend divine ^*, eminent for his elo⯑quence, recollecting that the iſſues of life are in the hands of God, ſaw no profaneneſs in mix⯑ing the ſubject with public thankſgiving; re⯑minding the people of this country of their own glorious deliverance in former ages. It happened, alſo, that a ſociety of gentlemen, France being then a neutral nation, and her own monarch ſwearing almoſt daily upon her altars to maintain the new conſtitution, thought they infringed no law by ſending a general congratulation. Their numbers, indeed, were very inconſiderable; ſo much ſo, that Mr. Burke, with more truth than [140]wiſdom, begins his volume with a ſarcaſm upon their inſignificance.

‘Until very lately he had never heard of ſuch a club. It certainly never occu⯑pied a moment of his thoughts; nor, he believed, thoſe of any perſon out of their own ſet.’

Why then make their proceedings the ſub⯑ject of alarm throughout England? — There had been no proſecution againſt them, nor any charge founded upon ſuſpicion of diſaffection againſt any of their body. But Mr. Burke thought it was reſerved for his eloquence to whip theſe curs of faction to their kennels. How he has ſucceeded, I appeal to all that has happened ſince the introduction of his ſchiſm in the Britiſh empire, by giving to the King, whoſe title was queſtioned by no man, a title which it is his Majeſty's moſt ſolemn intereſt to diſclaim.

After having, in his firſt work, laſhed Dr. Price in a ſtrain of eloquent irony for conſidering the monarchy to be elective, which he could not but know Dr. Price, in the literal ſenſe of elec⯑tion, neither did or could poſſibly conſider it, Mr. Burke publiſhed a ſecond treatiſe; in which, after reprinting many paſſages from Mr. Paine's former work, he ridicules and denies the ſup⯑poſed right of the people to change their govern⯑ments, in the following words:

[141]"The French revolution, ſay they," (ſpeak⯑ing of the Engliſh ſocieties) ‘was the act of the majority of the people; and if the majority of any other people, the people of England, for inſtance, wiſh to make the ſame change, they have the ſame right; juſt the ſame undoubtedly; that is, none at all.’

And then, after ſpeaking of the ſubſerviency of will to duty, (in which I agree with him,) he, in a ſubſtantive ſentence, maintains the ſame doctrine; thus:

‘The conſtitution of a country being once ſettled upon ſome compact, tacit or expreſſ⯑ed, there is no power exiſting of force to alter it, without the breach of the covenant, or the conſent of all the parties. Such is the nature of a contract.’

So that if reaſon, or even revelation itſelf, were now to demonſtrate to us, that our conſtitution was miſchievous in its effects; that, to uſe Mr. At⯑torney General's expreſſion, we had been inſane for the many centuries we have ſupported it; yet that ſtill, if the King had not forfeited his title to the crown, nor the Lords their privileges, the univerſal voice of the whole people of Eng⯑land could not build up a new government upon a legitimate baſis.

[142]Gentlemen, not to argue for the preſent againſt ſuch a propoſition, and ſuppoſing it could, be⯑yond all controverſy, be maintained; for hea⯑ven's ſake, let wiſdom never utter it! Let policy and prudence for ever conceal it! If you ſeek the ſtability of the Engliſh government, rather put the book of Mr. Paine, which calls it bad, into every hand in the kingdom, than doctrines which bid human nature rebel even againſt that which is the beſt.—Say to the people of England, Look at your conſtitution, there it lies before you—the work of your pious fathers, handed down as a ſacred depoſit from generation to generation, the reſult of wiſdom and virtue, and its parts ce⯑mented together with kindred blood. There are, indeed, a few ſpots upon its ſurface; but the ſame principle which reared the ſtructure will bruſh them all away: you may keep it, or you may deſtroy it.—To ſuch an addreſs, what would be the anſwer? A chorus of the nation— YES, WE WILL PRESERVE IT. But ſay to the ſame nation, even of the very ſame conſtitution, It is yours, ſuch as it is, for better or for worſe; it is ſtrapped upon your backs, to carry it as beaſts of burthen, and you have no juriſdiction to caſt it off. Let this be your poſition, and you inſtantly raiſe up (I appeal to every man's conſciouſneſs of his own nature) a ſpirit of uneaſineſs and diſcon⯑tent. Yet it is the controverſy alone, which this uſeleſs and miſchievous propoſition ſtirred up, that has pointed moſt of the paſſages arraigned before you, which it will be preſently my duty to explain.

[143]But let the prudence of the argument be what it may, the argument itſelf is untenable.

His Majeſty undoubtedly was not elected to the throne. No man can be ſuppoſed, in the teeth of fact, to have contended it; but did not the people of England elect King William, and break the hereditary ſucceſſion? and does not his Majeſty's title grow out of that election? It is one of the charges againſt the defendant, his having denied the parliament which called the Prince of Orange to the throne to have been a legal convention of the whole people; and is not the very foundation of that charge, that it was ſuch a legal convention, and that it was intended to be ſo? and if it was ſo, did not the people then confer the crown upon King William with⯑out any regard to hereditary right? Did they not cut off the Prince of Wales, who ſtood directly in the line of ſucceſſion, and who had incurred no perſonal forfeiture? Did they not give their deliverer an eſtate in the crown totally new and unprecedented in the law or hiſtory of the coun⯑try? And, laſtly, might they not, by the ſame authority, have given the royal inheritance to the family of a ſtranger? Mr. Juſtice Blackſtone, in his Commentaries, in terms, aſſerts that they might; and aſcribes their choice of King William, and the ſubſequent limitations of the crown, not to want of juriſdiction, but to their true origin, to prudence and diſcretion in not diſturbing a valuable inſtitution further than public ſafety and neceſſity dictated.

The Engliſh government ſtands then on this public conſent, the true root of all governments. [144]And I agree with Mr. Burke, that, while it is well adminiſtered, it is not in the power of fac⯑tions or libels to diſturb it; though, when miniſ⯑ters are in fault, they are ſure to ſet down all diſturbances to theſe cauſes. This is moſt juſtly and eloquently exemplified in the Thoughts on the Cauſe of the preſent Diſcontents, page 5 and 6.

‘Miniſters contend that no adequate pro⯑vocation has been given for ſo ſpreading a diſcontent, our affairs having been conduct⯑ed throughout with remarkable temper and conſummate wiſdom. The wicked induſ⯑try of ſome libellers, joined to the in⯑trigues of a few diſappointed politic [...]ans, have, in their opinion, been able to produce this unnatural ferment in the na⯑tion.’

‘Nothing, indeed, can be more unnatural than the preſent convulſions of this country, if the above account be a true one. I con⯑feſs I ſhall aſſent to it with great reluctance, and only on the compulſion of the cleareſt and firmeſt proofs; becauſe their account reſolves itſelf into this ſhort but diſcourag⯑ing propoſition. 'That we have a very good miniſtry, but that we are a very bad people; that we ſet ourſelves to bite the hand that feeds us; and, with a malignant inſanity, oppoſe the meaſures, and ungratefully vilify the perſons of thoſe whoſe ſole object is our own peace and proſperity. If a few puny [145]libellers, acting under a knot of factious po⯑liticians, without virtue, parts, or character (for ſuch they are conſtantly repreſented by theſe gentlemen), are ſufficient to excite this diſturbance, very perverſe muſt be the diſpoſition of that people, amongſt whom ſuch a diſturbance can be excited by ſuch means.’

He ſays true: never were ſerious diſturbances excited by ſuch means!

But to return to the argument.—Let us now ſee how the rights of the people ſtand upon au⯑thority, and whether this great ſource of govern⯑ment is not maintained by perſons on whom my friend will find it hard to faſten the character of libellers.

I ſhall begin with the moſt modern author on the ſubject of government—a gentleman, whoſe work lies ſpread out before me, as it often does for my delight and inſtruction in my leiſure hours. I have alſo, by the favour of a friend who ſits near me in court, the honour of his perſonal acquaintance. He is a man, perhaps more than any other, devoted to the real conſti⯑tution of the country, as will be found through⯑out his valuable work; and he is a perſon, be⯑ſides, of great learning, which enabled him to in⯑fuſe much uſeful knowledge into my learned friend who introduced me to him ^* I ſpeak of Mr. Paley, Archdeacon of Carliſle, and of his work, entitled, The Principles of Political and Moral Philoſophy, in which he inveſtigates the [146]firſt principles of all governments — a diſ⯑cuſſion not thought dangerous till lately: and I hope we ſhall ſoon get rid of this ridiculous panic.

Mr. Paley profeſſes to think of governments what the Chriſtian religion was thought of by its firſt teachers:—'If it be of God it will ſtand;' and he puts the duties of obedience to them up⯑on free will and moral duty. After diſſenting from Mr. Locke as to the origin of governments in compact, he ſays,

‘Wherefore, rejecting the intervention of a compact as unfounded in its principle, and dangerous in the application, we aſſign for the only ground of the ſubjects' obligation, THE WILL OF GOD, AS COLLECTED FROM EXPEDIENCY.’

‘The ſteps by which the argument pro⯑ceeds are few and direct — 'It is the will of God that the happineſs of human life be promoted:'—this is the firſt ſtep, and the foundation, not only of this, but of every moral concluſion. 'Civil ſociety conduces to that end:'—this is the ſecond propoſition. 'Civil ſocieties cannot be up⯑held, unleſs in each, the intereſt of the whole ſociety be binding upon every part and member of it:'—this is the third ſtep, and conducts us to the concluſion, namely,— 'That, ſo long as the intereſt of the whole ſociety requires it (that is, ſo long as the eſtabliſhed government cannot be reſiſted [147]or changed without public inconveniency) it is the will of God (which will univerſally determines our duty) that the eſtabliſhed government be obeyed,'—and no longer.’

‘But who ſhall judge of this? We anſwer, 'Every man for himſelf.' In con⯑tentions between the ſovereign and the ſubject, the parties acknowledge no com⯑mon arbitrator; and it would be abſurd to commit the deciſion to thoſe whoſe con⯑duct has provoked the queſtion, and whoſe own intereſt, authority, and fate, are immediately concerned in it. The danger of error and abuſe is no objec⯑tion to the rule of expediency, becauſe every other rule is liable to the ſame or greater; and every rule that can be propounded upon the ſubject (like all rules which appeal to, or bind the conſcience) muſt, in the application, depend upon private judgment. It may be obſerved, however, that it ought equally to be ac⯑counted the exerciſe of a man's private judgment, whether he determines by rea⯑ſonings and concluſions of his own, or ſubmits to be directed by the advice of others, provided he be free to chooſe his guide.’

He then proceeds in a manner rather incon⯑ſiſtent with the principles entertained by my learned friend in his opening to you:—

‘No uſage, law, or authority whatever, is [148]ſo binding, that it need or ought to be con⯑tinued, when it may be changed with ad⯑vantage to the community. The family of the prince—the order of ſucceſſion—the pre⯑rogative of the crown—the form and parts of the legiſlature—together with the reſpec⯑tive powers, office, duration, and mutual dependency of the ſeveral parts; are all only ſo many laws, mutable, like other laws, whenever expediency requires, either by the ordinary act of the legiſlature, or, if the oc⯑caſion deſerve it, BY THE INTERPOSITION OF THE PEOPLE.’

No man can ſay that Mr. Paley intended to dif⯑fuſe diſcontent by this declaration. He muſt there⯑fore be taken to think with me, that freedom and affection, and the ſenſe of advantages, are the beſt and the only ſupports of government. On the ſame principle, he then goes on to ſay,— ‘Theſe points are wont to be approached with a kind of awe; they are repreſented to the mind as principles of the conſtitution, ſettled by our anceſtors, and being ſettled, to be no more committed to innovation or debate; as foun⯑dations never to be ſtirred; as the terms and conditions of the ſocial compact, to which every citizen of the ſtate has engaged his fide⯑lity, by virtue of a promiſe which he cannot now recall. Such reaſons have no place in our ſyſtem.’

Such are the ſentiments of this excellent author, and there is no part of Mr. Paine's work, from the one end of it to the other, that advances any other propoſition.

[149]But the Attorney General will ſay, theſe are the grave ſpeculative opinions of a friend to the Engliſh Government, whereas Mr. Paine is its profeſſed enemy; what then? the princi⯑ple is, that every man, wh [...]le he obeys the laws, is to think for himſelf, and to conduct himſelf as he thinks. The very ends of ſociety exact this licence, and the policy of the law, in its proviſions for its ſecurity, has tacitly ſanctioned it. The real fact is, that writings againſt a free and well-proportioned Govern⯑ment, need not be guarded againſt by laws. They cannot often exiſt, and never with effect. The juſt and aweful principles of ſociety, are rarely brought forward, but when they are inſulted and denied, or abuſed in practice: Mr. Locke's Eſſay on Government, we owe to Sir Robert Filmer, as we owe Mr. Paine's to Mr. Burke; and indeed, between the arguments of Filmer and Burke, I ſee no eſſential difference; ſince it is not worth diſputing, whether a King exiſts by Di [...]ine right, or indiſſoluble Human compact, if he exiſts whether we will or no: If his exiſtence be without our conſent, and to continue without benefit, it matters not a farthing, whether his title be from God or from Man.

That his title is from man, and from every generation of man, without regard to the de⯑termination of former ones, hear from Mr. Locke, All m [...]n," ſay they, (i. e. Filmer and his adherents,) ‘are born under government, and therefore they cannot be at liberty to begin a new one. Every one is born a ſubject to his father, or his prince, and is therefore under the perpe⯑tual [150]tie of ſubjection and allegiance. It is plain, mankind never owned nor conſidered any ſuch natural ſubjection that they were born in, to one or to the other, that tied them, without their own conſents, to a ſubjection to them and their heirs.’

‘It is true, that whatever engagements or promiſes any one has made for himſelf, he is under the obligation of them, but can⯑not, by any compact whatſoever, bind his children or poſterity: for his ſon, when a man, being altogether as free as the father, any act of the father can no more give away the liberty of the ſon, than it can of any body elſe.’

So much for Mr. Locke's opinion of the rights of mankind. Let us now examine his ideas of the ſuppoſed danger of truſting them with them.

‘Perhaps it will be ſaid, that the people being ignorant, and always diſcontented, to lay the foundation of government in the un⯑ſteady opinion and uncertain humour of the people, is to expoſe it to certain ruin: and no government will be able long to ſubſiſt, if the people may ſet up a new legiſlature, whenever they take offence at the old one. To this, I anſwer quite the contrary: people are not ſo eaſily got out of their old forms, as ſome are apt to ſuggeſt: they are hardly to be prevailed with to amend the acknow⯑ledged faults in the frame they have been accuſtomed to; and if there be any origi⯑nal defects, or adventitious ones introduced by time, or corruption, it is not an eaſy thing [151]to be changed, even when all the world ſees there is an opportunity for it. This ſlow⯑neſs and averſion in the people to quit their old conſtitutions, has in the many revolu⯑tions which have been ſeen in this kingdom, in this and former ages, ſtill kept us to, or, af [...]er ſome interval of fruitleſs attempts, ſtill brought us back again to our old legiſlative of king, lords and commons: and whatever provocations have made the crown be taken from ſome of our princes heads, they never carried the people ſo far as to place it in another line.’

Gentlemen, I wiſh I had ſtrength to go on with all that is material, but I have read enough, not only to maintain the true princi⯑ples of government, but to put to ſhame the narrow ſyſtem of diſtruſting the people.

It may be ſaid, that Mr. Locke went great lengths in his poſitions, to beat down the con⯑trary doctrine of divine right, which was then endangering the new eſtabliſhment. But that cannot be objected to David Hume, who main⯑tains the ſame doctrine; ſpeaking of the Magna Charta in his hiſtory, vol. ii. page 88, he ſays, ‘It muſt be confeſſed, that the former ar⯑ticles of the great charter, contain ſuch miti⯑gations and explanations of the feodal law, as are reaſonable and equitable; and that the lat⯑ter involve all the chief outlines of a legal Government, and provide for the equal diſtri⯑bution of juſtice and free enjoyment of pro⯑perty; the great object for which political ſociety was founded by men, which the peo⯑ple have a perpetual and unalienable right to [152]recall; and which no time, nor precedent, nor ſtatute, nor poſitive inſtitution, ought to deter them from keeping ever uppermoſt in their thoughts and attention.’

Theſe authorities are ſufficient to reſt on, yet I cannot omit Mr. Burke himſelf, who is, if poſſible, ſtill more diſtinct on the ſubject. Speaking not of the ancient people of Eng⯑land, but of Colonies planted almoſt within our memories, he ſays, ‘If there be one fact in the world perfectly clear, it is this; That the diſpoſition of the people of Ame⯑rica is wholly averſe to any other than a free Government" and this is indication enough to any honeſt ſtateſman, how he ought to adapt whatever power he finds in his hands to their caſe. If any aſk me what a free Government is, I anſwer, THAT IT IS WHAT THE PEOPLE THINK SO; AND THAT THEY, AND NOT I, ARE THE NATURAL, LAWFUL, AND COMPETENT JUDGES OF THIS MATTER. If they practically allow me a greater degree of authority over them than is conſiſtent with any correct ideas of perfect freedom, I ought to thank them for ſo great a truſt, and not to endeavour to prove from thence, that they have reaſoned amiſs, and that having gone ſo far, by analogy, they muſt here-after have no enjoyment but by my pleaſure.’

Gentlemen, I am ſorry to feel my time conſiderably conſumed before I am arrived at what I conceive to be the material ſub⯑ject of your conſideration. For all that I have been ſtating now, is only to ſhew; that [153]there is not that novelty in the opinions of the defendant, that ſhould lead you to think that he does not bona f [...]de entertain them, much leſs when connected with the hiſtory of his life, which I therefore brought in review before you.—But ſtill the great queſtion re⯑mains unargued. Had he a right to promul⯑gate theſe opinions? Gentlemen, if he en⯑tertained them, I ſhall argue that he had— And although my arguments upon the Liberty of the Preſs, may not to-day be honoured with your, or the Court's approbation, I ſhall retire not at all diſheartened, conſoling myſelf with the reflection, that a ſeaſon may arrive for their reception.—The moſt eſſential free⯑doms of mankind have been but ſlowly and gradually received, and ſo very late, indeed, do ſome of them come to maturity, that not⯑withſtanding the Attorney General tells you that the very queſtion I am now agitating, is moſt peculiarly for y [...]ur conſideration, AS A JURY, under our ANCIENT Conſtitution, yet I muſt remind both you and him, that your juriſdiction to conſider and deal with it at all in judgment, is but A YEAR OLD.—When, be⯑fore that late period, I ventured to maintain this very RIGHT OF A JURY over the queſtion of Libel under the ſame ancient Conſtitu⯑tion. (I do not mean before my Lord, for the matter was gone to reſt in the Courts, at leaſt long before he came to ſit where he does.) But when, before a Noble and Reverend Magiſ⯑trate of the moſt exalted underſtanding, and of the moſt uncorrupted integrity, to give ef⯑fect to it ^*, I had occaſion to maintain it, he [154]treated me, not with diſregard, indeed, for of that his nature was incapable; but he put me aſide with indulgence, as you do a child while it is liſping its prattle out of ſeaſon; and if this cauſe had been tried then, inſtead of now, the Defendant muſt have been inſtantly con⯑victed on the proof of the publication, what⯑ever you might have thought of his caſe.— Yet, I have lived to ſee it reſolved, by an al⯑moſt unanimous vote of the whole Parliament of England, that I had all along [...]een in the right. If this be not an awful leſſon of cau⯑t [...]on concerning opinions, where are ſuch leſ⯑ſons to be read!

Gentlemen, I have inſiſted, at great length, upon the origin of Government being in the conſent of the people, and detailed the autho⯑rities which you have heard upon the ſubject, becauſe I conſider it to be not only a ſupport, but, indeed, the only foundation of the Li⯑berty of the Preſs. If Mr. Burke be right in HIS principles of Government, I admit that the Preſs, in my ſenſe of its freedom, ought not to be free, nor free in any ſenſe at all; and that all Addreſſes to the people upon the ſub⯑ject of Government; and all ſpeculations of amendment, of what kind or nature ſoever, are illegal and criminal:—For, if the people have, without poſſible recall, delegated all their authorities, they have no juriſdiction to act, and therefore none to think, upon ſuch ſub⯑jects; and it is a libel to arraign Government or any of its acts, before thoſe that have no juriſdiction to correct them. But on the other hand, as it is a ſettled rule in the Law of [155]England, that the ſubject may always addreſs a competent juriſdiction on every matter with⯑in it, no legal argument can ſhake the free⯑dom of the Preſs in my ſenſe of it, if I am ſupported in my doctrines concerning the great unalienable rights of the people, to change or to reform their Governments.

Gentlemen, it is becauſe the Liberty of the Preſs reſolves itſelf into this great iſſue, that it has been in every time and country, the laſt liberty which ſubjects have been able to wreſt from power.—Other liberties are held under Governments, but the liberty of opinion keeps Governments themſelves in due ſubjection to their duties. This has produced the martyr⯑dom of truth in every age, and the world has only purged itſelf from ignorance with the innocent blood of thoſe who have enlighten⯑ed it.

Gentlemen, my ſtrength and time are waſt⯑ed, and I can only make this melancholy hiſtory paſs like a ſhadow before you.

I ſhall begin with the grand type and ex⯑ample.

The univerſal God of Nature,—the Saviour of Mankind,—the Fountain of all Light, who came to pluck the world from eternal dark⯑neſs, expired upon a croſs the ſcoff of infidel ſcorn; and his bleſſed Apoſtles followed him in the train of Martyrs. When he came in the fleſh, he might have come like the Ma⯑hometan Prophet, as a powerful Sovereign, and propagated that religion with an uncon⯑querable ſword, which even now, after the lapſe of ages, is but ſlowly moving, under the [156]influence of reaſon, over the face of the earth: But ſuch a proceſs would have been incon⯑ſiſtent with his miſſion, which was to con⯑found the pride, and to eſtabliſh the univerſal rights of men; he came therefore in that low⯑ly ſtate which is repreſented in the Goſpel, and preached his conſolations to the poor.

When the foundation of this religion was diſcovered to be invulnerable and immortal, we find political power taking the church into partnerſhip; thus began the corruptions both of Religion and Civil Power, and, hand in hand together, what havoc have they not made in the world; ru [...]ing by ignorance and the perſecution of truth; but this very perſecu⯑tion only haſtened the revival of letters and liberty, which was t [...] deſtroy the one and to raiſe up the other. Nay, you will find, that in the exact proportion that knowledge and learning have been beat down and fettered, they have deſtroyed the Governments that bound them. The Court of Star-Chamber, the firſt reſtriction on the Preſs of England, was erected in 1637. From that moment no man could legally write without an Imprima⯑tur from the State; but truth and freedom found their way with greater force through ſecret channels, and the unhappy Charles, unwarned by a free preſs, was brought in ele⯑ven years afterwards to an ignominious death.

When men can freely communicate their thoughts and their ſufferings, real or imagi⯑nary, their paſſions ſpend themſelves in air, like gun-powder ſcattered upon the ſurface; but pent up by terrors, they work unſeen like [157]ſubter [...]aneous fire, burſt forth in earthquake, and deſtroy every thing in their courſe. Let reaſon be oppoſed to reaſon, and argument to argument, and every good Government will be ſafe.

The Uſurper, Cromwell, purſued the ſame ſyſtem of reſtraint in ſupport of his Govern⯑ment, and the end of it ſpeedily followed.

At the Reſtoration of Charles the Second, the Star-Chamber Ordinance of 1637, was worked up into an Act of Parliament, and was [...]ollowed up during that reign, and the ſhort one that followed it, by the moſt ſan⯑guinary proſecutions; but what fact in hiſ⯑tory is more notorious, than that this blind and contemptible policy prepared and haſtened on the Revolution. At that great aera theſe cob⯑webs [...]ere all bruſhed away: The freedom of the Preſs was regenerated, and the Country, ru [...]ed by its affections, has ſince enjoyed a century of tranquillity and glory.—Thus I have maintained, by Engliſh Hiſtory, that in proportion as the Preſs has been free, Engliſh Government has been ſecure.

Gentlemen, I will now ſupport the ſame important truth by very great authorities. Upon a ſubject of this kind reſort cannot be had to Law Caſes. The ancient Law of Eng⯑land knew nothing of ſuch Libels; they be⯑gan, and ſhould have ended, with the Star-Chamber. What writings are ſlanderous of individuals, muſt be looked for where theſe proſecutions are recorded; but upon general ſubjects we muſt go to general writers. If, indeed, I were to refer to obſcure authors, I [158]might be anſwered, that my very authorities were Libels, inſtead of juſtifications or ex⯑amples; but this cannot be ſaid with effect of great men, whoſe works are claſſics in our language, taught in our ſchools, and printed under the eye of Government.

Gentlemen, I ſhall begin with the Poet Milton, a great authority in all learning.— It may be ſaid, indeed, he was a Republican, but that would only prove that Republicaniſm is not incompatible with virtue; it may be ſaid too, that the work which I cite was written againſt previous Licenſing, which is not contended for to-day. But, in my opi⯑nion, if every work is to be adjudged a libel, which is adverſe to the wiſhes of Govern⯑ment, or to the opinions of thoſe who may try it, the revival of a Licencer would be a ſecurity to the public: For, if I preſent my book to a Magiſtrate appointed by law, if he rejects it, I have only to forbear from the publication, and in the forbearance I am ſafe; and he too is anſwerable to Law for the abuſe of his authority. But, upon the argument of to-day, a man muſt print at his peril, without any guide to the principles of judgment, upon which his work may be afterwards poſecuted and condemned. Milton's argument therefore applies, and was meant to apply, to every in⯑terruption to writing, which, while they op⯑preſs the individual, endanger the State.

‘We have them not,’ ſays Milton, ‘that can be heard of, from any ancient ſtate, or polity, or church, nor by any ſtatute left us by our anceſtors, elder or later, nor from the [159]modern cuſtom of any reformed city, or church abroad; but from the moſt antichriſ⯑tian council, and the moſt tyrannous inquiſi⯑tion that ever exiſted. Till then, books were ever as freely admitted into the world as any other birth; the iſſue of the brain was no more ſti [...]ed than the iſſue of the womb.’

He then adverts to his viſit to the famous Ga⯑lileo, whom he found and viſited in the inquiſi⯑tion, ‘for not thinking in Aſtronomy with the Franciſcan and Dominican Monks.’ And what event ought more deeply to intereſt and affect us. The very laws of Nature were to bend under the rod of a Licenſer; this illuſtri⯑ous Aſtronomer ended his life within the bars of a priſon, becauſe, in ſeeing the phaſes of Ve⯑nus through his newly-invented teleſcope, he [161]pronounced, that ſhe ſhone with borrowed light, and from the Sun as the centre of the uni⯑verſe. This was the mighty crime, the pla⯑cing the Sun in the center: that Sun which now inhabits it upon the foundation of mathe⯑matical truth, which enables us to traverſe the pathleſs ocean, and to carry our line and rule amongſt other worlds, which but for Galileo we had never known, perhaps even to the re⯑ceſſes of an Infinite and Immortal God.

Milton then, in his moſt eloquent addreſs to the parliament, puts the liberty of the preſs on its true and moſt honourable foundation. ‘Believe it, Lords and Commons, they who counſel ye to ſuch a ſuppreſſing of books, do as good as bid you ſuppreſs yourſelves; and I will ſoon ſhew how.’

‘If it be deſired to know the immediate cauſe of all this free writing and free ſpeak⯑ing, there cannot be aſſigned a truer than your own mild, and free, and humane Govern⯑ment; it is the liberty, Lords and Com⯑mons, which your own valorous and happy counſels have purchaſed us; liberty which is the nurſe of all great wits: this is that which hath rarified and enlightened our ſpirits like the influence of heaven; this is that which hath enfranchiſed, enlarged and lifted up our apprehenſions, degrees above themſelves. Ye cannot make us now leſs ca⯑pable, leſs knowing, leſs eagerly purſuing the truth, unleſs ye firſt make yourſelves, that made us ſo, leſs the lovers, leſs the founders of our true liberty. We can grow ig⯑norant again, brutiſh formal and ſlaviſh, as ye [162]found us; but you then muſt firſt become that which ye cannot be, oppreſſive, arbitra⯑ry and tyrannous, as they were from whom ye have freed us. That our hearts are now more capacious, our thoughts now more erected to the ſearch and expectation of great⯑eſt and exacteſt things, is the iſſue of your own virtue propagated in us. Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conſcience, above all liberties.’

Gentlemen, I will now refer you to another Author, whoſe opinion you may think more in point, as having lived in our own times, and as holding the higheſt monarchical prin⯑ciples of Government. I ſpeak of Mr. Hume, who, nevertheleſs, conſiders, that this Liberty of the Preſs extends not only to abſtract ſpe⯑culation, but to keep the public on their guard againſt all the acts of their Government.

After ſhewing the advantages of a Monarchy to public freedom, provided it is duly con⯑trolled and watched by the popular part of the Conſtitution, he ſays, ‘Theſe principles account for the great liberty of the preſs in theſe kingdoms, beyond what is indulged in any other Government. It is apprehend⯑ed, that arbitrary power would ſteal in upon us, were we not careful to prevent its pro⯑greſs, and were there not an eaſy method of conveying the alarm from one end of the kingdom to the other. The ſpirit of the people m [...]ſt frequently be rouſed, in order to curb the ambition of the Court; and the dread of rouſing this ſpirit muſt be employ⯑ed to prevent that ambition. Nothing is ſo [163]effectual to this purpoſe as the liberty of the preſs, by which all the learning, wit, and genius of the nation, may be employed on the ſide of freedom; and every one be ani⯑mated to its defence. As long, therefore, as the republican part of our Government can maintain itſelf againſt the monarchical, it will naturally be careful to keep the preſs open, as of importance to its own preſervation.’

There is another authority co-temporary with the laſt, a ſplendid Speaker in the upper Houſe of Parliament, and who held during moſt of his time high offices under the King; I ſpeak of the Earl of Cheſterfield, who thus expreſſed himſelf in the Houſe of Lords:— ‘One of the greateſt bleſſings, my Lords, we enjoy, is Liberty; but every good in this life has its alloy of evil—Licentiouſneſs is the alloy of Liberty, it is —.’

Doctor Johnſon claims to pluck that feather f [...]om Lord Cheſterfield's wing; he ſpeaks, I believe, of the eye of the political body.

Gentlemen, I have heard it ſaid, that Lord Cheſterfield borrowed that which I was juſt about to ſtate, and which his Lordſhip has anticipated.

That very ſpeech which did Lord Cheſterfield ſo much honour, is ſuppoſed to have been written by Doctor Johnſon.

Gentlemen, I believe it was ſo, and I am much obliged to his Lordſhip for giving me a far higher authority for my doctrine. For though Lord Cheſterfield was a [164]man of great ingenuity and wit, he was un⯑doubtedly far inferior in learning and in mo⯑narchical opinion, to the celebrated writer to whom my Lord has now delivered the work by his authority. Doctor Johnſon then ſays, ‘One of the greateſt bleſſings we enjoy, one of the greateſt bleſſings a people, my Lords, can enjoy, is Liberty; but every good in this life has its alloy of evil: licentiouſneſs is the alloy of liberty: it is an ebullition, an ex⯑creſcence; it is a ſpeck upon the eye of the political body, which I can never touch but with a gentle, with a trembling hand, leſt I deſtroy the body, leſt I injure the eye upon which it is apt to appear.’

‘There is ſuch a connection between licen⯑tiouſneſs and liberty, that it is not eaſy to correct the one, without dangerouſly wound⯑ing the other; it is extremely hard to diſ⯑tinguiſh the true limit between them: like a changeable ſilk, we can eaſily ſee there are two different colours, but we cannot eaſily diſcover where the one ends, or where the other begins.’

I confeſs, I cannot help agreeing with this learned author. The danger of touching the preſs is the difficulty of marking its limits. My learned friend, who has juſt gone out of Court, has drawn no line, and unfolded no principle. He has not told us, if this book is condemned, what book may be written. If I may not write againſt the exiſtence of a mo⯑narchy, and recommend a republic, may I write againſt any part of tie Government? May I ſay that we ſhould be better without a [165]Houſe of Lords, or a Houſe of Commons, or a Court of Chancery, or any other given part of our eſtabliſhment? Or if, as has been hinted, a work may become libellous for ſtat⯑ing even legal matter with ſarcaſtic phraſe, the difficulty becomes the greater, and the li⯑berty of the preſs more impoſſible to define.

The ſame author, purſuing the ſubject and ſpeaking of the fall of Roman liberty, ſays, ‘But this fort of liberty came ſoon after to be called licentiouſneſs; for we are told that Auguſtus, after having eſtabliſhed his empire, reſtored order in Rome by reſtraining licen⯑tiouſneſs. God forbid we ſhould in this country have order reſtored, or licentiouſneſs reſtrained, at ſo dear a rate as the people of Rome paid for it to Auguſtus.’

‘Let us conſider, my Lords, that arbitrary power has ſeldom or never been introduced into any country at once. It muſt be in⯑troduced by ſlow degrees, and as it were ſtep by ſtep, leſt the people ſhould ſee its approach. The barriers and fences of the people's liberty muſt be plucked up one by one, and ſome plauſible pretences muſt be ſound for removing or hoodwinking, one after another, thoſe ſentries who are poſted by the conſtitution of a free country, for warning the people of their danger, When theſe preparatory ſteps are once made, the people may then, indeed, with regret, ſee ſlavery and arbitrary power making long ſtrides over their land; but it will be too late to think of preventing or avoiding the impending ruin.’

[166] ‘The ſtage, my Lords, and the preſs, are two of our out-ſentries; if we remove them, if we hoodwink them, if we throw them in fetters, the enemy may ſurpriſe us.’

Gentlemen, this ſubject was ſtill more lately put in the juſteſt and moſt forcible light by a noble perſon high in the Magiſtracy; and whoſe mind is not at all tuned to the introduction of diſorder by improper popular exceſſes; I mean Lord Loughborough, chief Juſtice of the Court of Common Pleas. I believe I can anſwer for the correctneſs of my note, which I ſhall fol⯑low up with the opinion of another member of the Lord's houſe of Parliament; the pre⯑ſent Earl Stanhope; or rather, I ſhall take Lord Stanhope firſt, as his Lordſhip introduces the ſubject by adverting to this argument of Lord Loughborough's. "If," ſays his Lordſhip, ‘our boaſted liberty of the preſs, were to con⯑ſiſt only in the liberty to write in praiſe of the Conſtitution, this is a liberty enjoyed under many arbitrary governments. I ſup⯑poſe it would not be deemed quite an unpar⯑donable offence, even by the Empreſs of Ruſſia, if any man were to take into his head to write a panegyric upon the Ruſſian form of Government. Such a liberty as that might therefore properly be termed the Ruſ⯑ſian liberty of the Preſs. But, the Engliſh liberty of the Preſs is of a very different de⯑ſcription: for, by the law of England, it is not prohibited to publiſh ſpeculative works upon the Conſtitution, whether they con⯑tain praiſe or cenſure.’—Lord Stanhope's de⯑fence of the Libel Bill.

[167]You ſee therefore, as far as the general principle goes, I am ſupported by the opi⯑nion of Lord Stanhope, for otherwiſe the noble Lord has written a libel himſelf, by exciting other people to write whatever they may think, be it good or evil, of the conſtitution of the country. As to the other high authority, Lord Loughborough, I will read what applies to this ſubject—'Every man' ſaid Lord Loughborough, ‘may publiſh at his diſcretion his opinions concerning forms and ſyſtems of Government.’

‘If they be wiſe and enlightening, the world will gain by them; if they be weak and ab⯑ſurd, they will be laughed at and forgotten; and, if they be bona fide, they cannot be cri⯑minal, however erroneous. On the other hand, the purpoſe and the direction may give a different turn to writings whoſe common conſtruction is harmleſs or even meritorious. Suppoſe men, aſſembled in diſturbance of the peace, to pull down mills or turnpikes, or to do any other miſchief, and that a miſchie⯑vous perſon ſhould diſperſe among them an excitation to the planned miſchief known to both writer and reader, To your tents, O Iſrael; that publication would be criminal. But how criminal? not as a libel, not as an ab⯑ſtract writing, but as an act; and the act being the crime it muſt be ſtated as a fact ex⯑trinſic on the record: for, otherwiſe, a Court of Error could have no juriſdiction but over the natural conſtruction of the writing; nor would the defendant have any notice of ſuch matter at the trial, without a charge on the [168]Record. To give the Jury cognizance of any matter beyond the conſtruction of the writing, the averrment ſhould be in the caſe as I have inſtanced, that certain perſons were, as I have deſcribed, aſſembled; and that the publiſher, intending to execute theſe perſons ſo aſſembled, wrote ſo and ſo. Here the crime is complete, and conſiſts in an overt-act of wickedneſs evidenced by a writing.’

In anſwer to all theſe authorities, the At⯑torney General may ſay, that, if Mr. Paine had written his obſervations with the views of thoſe high perſons and under other circumſtances, he would be protected and acquitted: to which I can only anſwer, that no facts or cir⯑cumſtances attending his work are either charged or proved; that you have no juriſdic⯑tion whatever but over the natural conſtruction of the work before you, and that I am therefore brought without a flaw in the deduction to the paſſages which are the particular ſubject of complaint.

Gentlemen, I am not unmindful how long I have already treſpaſſed upon your patience; a [...]d. recollecting the nature of the human mind, and how much, for a thouſand reaſons, I have to ſtruggle againſt at this moment, I ſh [...]ll not be diſconcerted if any of you ſhould appear anxious to retire from the pain of hear⯑ing me farther. It has been ſaid, that my vanity has forwarded my zeal in this cauſe; but I might appeal even to the authors of thoſe paragraphs, whether a ſituation ever exiſted which vanity would have been fonder to fly [169]from—the taſk of ſpeaking againſt every known prepoſſeſſion; with every countenance, as it were, planted and lifted up againſt me. But I ſtand at this bar to give to a criminal arraigned before it, the defence which the law of the country entitles him to. If any of my arguments be indecent, or unfit for the Court to hear, the noble Judge preſides to interrupt them: If all, or any of them, are capable of an anſwer, they will be anſwered: Or, if they be ſo unfounded in your own minds, who are to judge of them as not to call for refutation, your verdict in a moment will overthrow all that has been ſaid—We ſhall then have all diſ⯑charged our duties—It is your's to judge, but m [...]ne only to addreſs your judgments.

When my Lord and I were Counſel for Lord George Gordon in 1781, it was not conſidered by that Jury, nor imputed to us by any body, that we were contending for the privileges of over-awing the Houſe of Commons, or recom⯑mending the conflagration of this city: I am doing the ſame duty now, which my Lord and I then did in concert together; and, whatever may become of the cauſe, I expect to be heard: conſcious that no juſt obloquy can be, or will (in the end) be caſt upon me for having done my duty in the manner I have endeavoured to perform it.

Gentlemen, I come now to obſerve on the paſſages ſelected by the information; and with regard to the firſt I ſhall diſpoſe of it in a moment.

‘All Hereditary government is in its na⯑ture tyranny. An hereditable crown, or [170]an hereditable throne, or by what other fan⯑ciful name ſuch things may be called, have no other ſignificant explanation than that mankind are hereditable property. To in⯑herit a government is to inherit the people, as if they were flocks and herds.’

And is it to be endured, ſays the Attorney General, that the people of this country are to be told that they are driven like oxen or ſheep? Certainly not I am of opinion that a more dangerous doctrine cannot be inſtilled into the people of England. But who inſtils ſuch a doctrine? I deny it is inſtilled by Paine. For when he maintains that hereditary monarchy inherits a people like flocks and herds, it is clear from the context (which is ke [...]t out of view,) that he is combating the propoſition in Mr. Burke's book, which aſſerts, that the hereditary monarchy of England is faſtened upon the peo⯑ple of England by indiſſoluble compact. Mr. Paine, on the contrary, aſſerts the King of England to be the magiſtrate of the people, exiſt⯑ing by their conſent, which is utterly incom⯑patible with their being driven like herds. His argument, therefore, is this, and it retorts on his adverſary: he ſays, ſuch a King as you repreſent the King of England to be, inheriting the people by virtue of conqueſt, or of ſome compact, which, having once exiſted, cannot be diſſolved while the original terms of it are kept, is an inheritance like flocks and herds. But I deny that to be the King of England's title, he is the magiſtrate of the people, and that title I reſpect. It is to your own imaginary King of [171]England therefore, and not to his Majeſty, that your unfounded innuendos apply. It is the Monarchs of Ruſſia and Pruſſia, and all Go⯑vernments faſtened upon unwilling ſubjects by hereditary indefeaſible titles, that are ſtigma⯑tiſed by Paine as inheriting the people like flocks. The ſentence, therefore, muſt either be taken in the pure abſtract, and then it is not only merely ſpeculative, but the application of it to our own Government fails altogether, or it muſt be taken connected with the matter which conſtitutes the application, and then it is Mr. Burke's King of England, and not his Majeſty whoſe title is denied.

I paſs therefore to the next paſſage, which appears to be an extraordinary ſelection. It is taken at a leap from page 21 to page 47, and breaks in at the words, "This convention." The ſentence ſelected ſtands thus, ‘This con⯑vention met at Philadelphia in May 1787, of which General Waſhington was elected preſident. He was not at that time con⯑nected with any of the ſtate governments, or with Congreſs. He delivered up his com⯑miſſion when the war ended, and ſince then had lived a private citizen.’

‘The Convention went deeply into all the ſubjects; and having after a variety of debate and inveſtigation, agreed among themſelves upon the ſeveral parts of a federal Conſti⯑tution, the next queſtion was, the manner of giving it authority and practice.’

‘For this purpoſe, they did not, like a cabal of courtiers, ſend for a Dutch Stadt⯑holder, or a German Elector; but they re⯑ferred [172]the whole matter to the ſenſe and intereſt of the country.’

This ſentence, ſtanding thus by itſelf, may appear to be a mere ſarcaſm on King William, upon thoſe who effected the Revolution; and upon the Revolution itſelf, without any reaſon⯑ing or deduction: But when the context and ſequel are looked at and compared, it will ap⯑pear to be a ſerious Hiſtorical compariſon between the Revolution effected in England in 1688, and the late one in America when ſhe eſtabliſhed her independence; and no man can doubt that his judgment on that compariſon was ſincere. But where is the Libel on the Conſtitution? For whether King William was brought over here by the ſincereſt and juſteſt motives of the whole people of England, each man acting for himſelf, or through the motives and agencies imputed by the defendant, it ſigni⯑fies not one farthing at this time of day to the eſtabliſhment itſelf. Blackſtone warns us not to fix our obedience or affection to the Govern⯑ment on the motives of our anceſtors, or the rectitude of their reaſonings, but to be ſatisfied that it is eſtabliſhed. This is ſafe reaſoning, and, for my own part, I ſhould not be differ⯑ently affected to the Conſtitution of my country, which my own underſtanding approved, whe⯑ther angels or demons had given it birth.

Do any of you love the reformation the leſs becauſe Henry the eighth was the author of it? Or becauſe luſt and poverty, and not religion, were his motives. He had ſquandered the trea⯑ſures of his father, and he preferred Anne Bullen to his Queen; theſe were the cauſes [173]which produced it.—What then! does that af⯑fect the purity of our reformed religion, under⯑mine its eſtabliſhment, or ſhake the King's title as Prince of the country, to the excluſion of thoſe who held by the religion it had aboliſhed? Will the Attorney General affirm, that I could be convicted of a libel for a whole volume of aſperity againſt Henry the Eighth, merely be⯑cauſe he effected the reformation; and if not, why againſt King William, who effected the Revolution? Where is the line to be drawn? Is one, two, or three centuries to be the ſtatute of limitation? But do not our own hiſtorians de⯑tail this very cabal of courtiers, from the re⯑cords of our own country? If you will turn to Hume's hiſtory, volume the eighth, page 188, &c. &c. you will find that he ſtates at great length, the whole detail of intrigues which paved the way for the Revolution, and the in⯑tereſted coalition of parties which gave it effect.

But what of all this, concerning the motives of parties, which is recorded by Hume. The queſtion is, What is the thing brought about,—Not HOW it was brought about. If it ſtands as Blackſtone argues it, upon the conſent of our anceſtors, followed up by our own, no indivi⯑dual can withdraw his obedience. If he diſ⯑likes the eſtabliſhment, let him ſeek elſewhere for another; I am not contending for un⯑controuled conduct, but for freedom of opi⯑nion.

With regard to what has been ſtated of the Edwards and Henrys, and the other princes under which the author can only diſcover "re⯑ſtrictions on power, but nothing of a conſtitu⯑tion:" [174]ſurely my friend is not in earneſt when he ſelects that as a libel.

Paine inſiſts, that there was no conſtitution under theſe princes, and that Engliſh liberty was obtained from uſurped power by the ſtrug⯑gles of the people. So SAY I. And I think it for the honor and advantage of the country that it ſhould be known.

Was there any freedom after the original eſtabliſhment of the Normans by conqueſt? Was not the MAGNA CHARTA wreſted from John by open force of arms at Runnymead? Was it not again re-enacted whilſt menacing arms were in the hands of the people? Were not it's ſtipulations broken through, and two and forty times re-enacted by Parliament, upon the firm demand of the people in the following reigns? I proteſt it fills me with aſtoniſhment to hear theſe truths brought in queſtion.

I was formerly called upon under the diſci⯑pline of a College to maintain them, and was rewarded for being thought to have ſucceſsfully maintained that our preſent Conſtitution was by no means a remnant of Saxon liberty, nor any other inſtitution of liberty, but the pure con⯑ſequence of the oppreſſion of the Norman tenures, which ſpreading the ſpirit of freedom from one end of the kingdom to another, ena⯑bled our brave fathers, inch by inch, not to re⯑conquer, but for the firſt time to obtain thoſe privileges which are the unalienable inheritance of all mankind.

But why do we ſpeak of the Edwards and Henries, when Hume himſelf expreſsly ſays, notwithſtanding all we have heard to-day of [175]the antiquity of our conſtitution, that our monarchy was nearly abſolute till the middle of laſt century. I have his book in Court, and will read it to you. It is his Eſſay on the Liberty of the Preſs, vol. I, page 15.

‘All abſolute Governments, and ſuch in a great meaſure was England, till the middle of the laſt century, notwithſtanding the nume⯑rous panegyries on ANCIENT Engliſh Liberty, muſt very much depend on the adminiſtra⯑tion.’

This is Hume's opinion; the concluſion of a grave hiſtorian from all that he finds recorded as the materials for hiſtory: and ſhall it be ſaid that Mr. Paine is to be puniſhed for writing to-day what was before written by another, who is now a diſtinguiſhed claſſic in the language? All the verdicts in the world will not make that palateable to an impartial public, or to poſte⯑rity.

The next paſſage arraigned is this: p. 56. ‘The attention of the government of England, (for I rather chuſe to call it by this name, than the Engliſh government) appears, ſince it's political connection with Germany, to have been ſo compleatly engroſſed and ab⯑ſorbed by foreign affairs, and the means of raiſing taxes, that it ſeems to exiſt for no other purpoſes. Domeſtic concerns are neg⯑lected; and with reſpect to regular law, there is ſcarcely ſuch a thing.’

That the government of this country is, in conſequence of it's connection with the Conti⯑nent, and the continental wars which it has occaſioned, been continually loaded with griev⯑ous [176]taxes, no man can diſpute; and I appeal to your juſtice, whether this ſubject has not been, for years together, the conſtant topic of unreproved declamation and grumbling?

As to what he ſays with regard to there hard⯑ly being ſuch a thing as regular law, he ſpeaks in the abſtract of the complexity of our ſyſtem; but does not arraign the adminiſtration of juſ⯑tice in it's practice. But with regard to cri⯑ticiſms and ſtrictures on the general ſyſtem, it has been echoed over and over again by various authors; and even from the pulpits of our country, that the law of the land is mainly de⯑fective, devoid of regularity and preciſion, and overloaded with a variety of expenſive and un⯑neceſſary forms. I have a Sermon in Court written during the American war, by a perſon of great eloquence and piety, part of which I will read to you on this ſubject, in which he looks forward to an exemption from the into⯑lerable grievances of our old legal ſyſtem in the infant eſtabliſhment of the New World.

‘It may be in the purpoſes of providence, on yon weſtern ſ [...]ores, to raiſe the bulwark of a purer reformation than ever Britain pa⯑tronized; to ſound a leſs burthenſome, more auſpicious, ſtable, and incorruptible govern⯑ment than ever Britain has enjoyed; and to eſtabliſh there a ſyſtem of law more juſt and ſimple in it's principles, leſs intricate, dubi⯑ous and dilatory in it's proceedings, more mild and equitable in it's ſanctions, more eaſy and more certain in it's execution; wherein no man can err through ignorance of what concerns him, or want juſtice through [177]poverty or weakneſs, or eſcape it by legal artifice, or civil privileges, or interpoſing power; wherein the rule of conduct ſhall not be hidden or diſguiſed in the language of principles and cuſtoms that died with the barbariſm which gave them birth; wherein haſty formulas ſhall not diſſipate the reverence that is due to the tribunals and tranſactions of juſtice; wherein obſolete preſcripts ſhall not pervert, nor entangle, nor impede the adminiſtration of it, nor in any inſtance ex⯑poſe it to deriſion or to diſregard; wherein miſrepreſentation ſhall have no ſhare in de⯑ciding upon right and truth; and under which no man ſhall grow great by the wages of chicanery, or thrive by the quarrels that are ruinous to his employers.’

This is ten times ſtronger than Mr. Paine; but who ever thought of proſecuting Mr. Cappe?

In various other inſtances you will find de⯑fects in our juriſprudence pointed out and lamented, and not ſeldom by perſons called upon by their ſituations to deliver the law in the ſeat of magiſtracy: therefore, the author's general obſervation does not appear to be that ſpecies of attack upon the magiſtracy of the country, as to fall within the deſcription of a libel.

With reſpect to the two Houſes of Parlia⯑ment, I believe I ſhall be able to ſhew you that the very perſon who introduced this controverſy, and who certainly is conſidered by thoſe who now adminiſter the government, as a man uſe⯑fully devoted to maintain the conſtitution of [178]the country in the preſent criſis, has himſelf made remarks upon theſe Aſſemblies; that upon compariſon you will think more ſevere than thoſe which are the ſubject of the Attor⯑ney General's animadverſion. The paſſage in Mr. Paine runs thus:

‘With reſpect to the two houſes, of which the Engliſh Parliament is compoſed, they ap⯑pear to be effectually influenced into one, and, as a legiſlature, to have no temper of it's own. The miniſter, whoever he at any time may be, touches it as with an opium wand, and it ſleeps obedience.’

‘But if we look at the diſtinct abilities of the two houſes, the difference will appear ſo great, as to ſhew the inconſiſtency of placing power where there can be no certainty of the judgment to uſe it. Wretched as the ſtate of repreſentation is in England, it is manhood compared with what is called the houſe of Lords; and ſo little is this nick-named houſe regarded, that the people ſcarcely inquire at any time what it is doing. It appears alſo to be moſt under influence, and the furtheſt removed from the general intereſt of the nation.’

The concluſion of the ſentence, and which was meant by Paine as evidence of the previous affection, the Attorney General has omitted in the information, and in his ſpeech, it is this: ‘In the debate on engaging in the Ruſſian and Turkiſh war, the majority in the Houſe of Peers in favour of it was upwards of ninety, when in the other houſe, which is more than [179]double it's numbers, the majority was ſixty-three.’

The terms, however, in which Mr. Burke ſpeaks of the Houſe of Lords, are ſtill more expreſſive. ‘It is ſomething more than a cen⯑tury ago, ſince we voted the Houſe of Lords uſeleſs. They have now voted themſelves ſo, and the whole hope of reformation’ (ſpeaking of the Houſe of Commons ‘is caſt up⯑on us.’ This ſentiment, Mr. Burke not only expreſſed in his place in parliament, where no man can call him to an account; but it has been ſince, repeatedly printed amongſt his other va⯑luable works. And his opinion of BOTH THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT, which I am about to read to you, was originally publiſhed as a pamphlet, and applied to the ſettled habitual abuſes of theſe high aſſemblies. Remember, I do not uſe them as argumenta ad hominem, or ad invidiam againſt the author, for if I did, it could be no defence of Mr. Paine. But I uſe them as high authority, the work ^* having been the juſt foundation of ſubſtantial and laſt⯑ing reputation. Would to God that any part of it were capable of being denied or doubted.

‘Againſt the being of parliament I am ſatis⯑fied no deſigns have ever been entertained ſince the Revolution. Every one muſt per⯑ceive that it is ſtrongly the intereſt of the Court to have ſome ſecond cauſe interpoſed between the miniſters and the people. The gentlemen of the Houſe of Commons have an [180]intereſt equally ſtrong, in ſuſtaining the part of that intermediate cauſe. However they may hire out the uſ [...]f [...]ct of their voices, they ne⯑ver will part with the ſee and inheritance. Accordingly thoſe who have been of the moſt known devotion to the will and pleaſure of a court, have at the ſame time been moſt for⯑ward in aſſerting an high authority in the Houſe of Commons. When they knew who were to use that authority, and how it was to be employed, they thought it never could be car⯑ried too far. It muſt be always the wiſh of an unconſtitutional ſtateſman, that an Houſe of Commons, who are entirely dependent upon him, ſhould have every right of the people de⯑pendent upon their pleaſure. FOR IT WAS DISCOVERED THAT THE FORMS OF A FREE, AND THE ENDS OF AN ARBITRARY GO⯑VERNMENT, WERE THINGS NOT ALTO⯑GETHER INCOMPATIBLE.’

‘The power of the crown almoſt dead and rotten as Prerogative, has grown up anew, with much more ſtrength and far leſs odium, under the name of influence. An influence which operates without noiſe and violence; which converts the very antagoniſt into the inſtrument of power: which contains in it⯑ſelf a perpetual principle of growth and reno⯑vation: and which the diſtreſſe; and the proſperity of the country equally tend to augment, was an admirable ſubſtitute for a Prerogative, that being only the offspring of antiquated prejudices, had moulded in its original ſtamina irreſi [...]ible principles of de⯑cay and diſſolution. The ignorance of the [181]people is a bottom but for a temporary ſyſ⯑tem; but the intereſt of active men in the ſtate is a foundation perpetual and infallible.’

Mr. Burke therefore, in page 66, ſpeaking of the ſame court party, ſays:

‘Parliament was indeed the great object of all theſe polities, the end at which they aimed, as well as the INSTRUMENT by which they were to operate.’

And purſuing the ſubject in page 70, pro⯑ceeds as follows:

‘They who will not conform their conduct to the public good, and cannot ſupport it by the prerogative of the crown, have adopted a new plan. They have totally abandoned the ſhattered and old-faſhioned fortreſs of pre⯑rogative, and made a lodgement in the ſtrong hold of parliament itſelf. If they have any evil deſign to which there is no ordinary le⯑gal power commenſurate, they bring it into parliament. There the whole is executed from the beginning to the end. And the power of ob⯑taining their object abſolute: and the ſafety in the proceeding perfect; no rules to confine, nor after reckonings to terrify. For parliament cannot with any great propriety puniſh others for things in which they themſelves have been ACCOMPLICES. Thus its controul upon the executory power is loſt ; becauſe it is made to partake in every conſiderable act of government, and impeachment, that great guardian of the purity of the Conſtitution, is in danger of being loſt even to the idea of it.’

‘Until this time, the opinion of the people, through the power of an Aſſembly, ſtill in [182]ſome ſort popular, led to the greateſt honours and emoluments in the gift of the crown. Now the principle is reverſed; and the fa⯑vour of the court is the only ſure way of ob⯑taining and holding thoſe honours which ought to be IN THE DISPOSAL OF THE PEO⯑PLE.’

Mr. Burke, in page 100, obſerves with great truth, that the miſchiefs he complained of, did not at all ariſe from the Monarchy, but from the parliament, and that it was the duty of the people to look to it. He ſays, ‘The diſtem⯑pers of monarchy were the great ſubjects of apprehenſion and redreſs, in the laſt cen⯑tury; in this, the diſtempers of parliament.’

Not the diſtempers of parliament in this year or the laſt, but in this century, i. e. its ſettled habitual diſtemper. ‘It is not in parliament alone that the remedy for parliamentary diſ⯑orders can be compleated; and hardly in⯑deed can it begin there. Until a confidence in government is re-eſtabliſhed, the people ought to be excited to a more ſtrict and de⯑tailed attention to the conduct of their repre⯑ſentatives. Standards for judging more ſyſ⯑tematically upon their conduct ought to be ſettled in the meetings of counties and cor⯑porations, and frequent and correct liſts of the voters in all important queſtions ought to be procured.’

‘By ſuch means ſomething may be done, ſince it may appear who thoſe are, that by an indiſcriminate ſupport of all adminiſtrations, have totally ba [...]i [...]ed all integrity and confi⯑dence [183]out of public proceedings; have con⯑founded the beſt men with the worſt; and weakened and diſſolved, inſtead of ſtrengthen⯑ing and compacting the general frame of go⯑vernment.’

I wiſh it was poſſible to read the whole of this moſt important volume—but the conſe⯑quences of theſe truths contained in it were all eloquently ſummed up by the author in his ſpeech upon the reform of the houſehold.

‘But what I confeſs was uppermoſt with me, what I bent the whole courſe of my mind to, was the reduction of that corrupt influence which is itſelf the perennial ſpring of all pro⯑digality and diſorder: which loads us more than millions of debt; which takes away vigour from our arms, wiſdom from our councils, and every ſhadow of authority and credit from the moſt venerable parts of our conſtitution.’

The ſame important truths were held out to the whole public, upon a ſtill later occaſion, by the perſon now at the head of his Majeſty's coun⯑cils: and ſo high (as it appears) in the confidence of the nation. He. not in the abſtract like the author before you, but upon the ſpur of the oc⯑caſion, and in the teeth of what had been juſt declared in the Houſe of Commons, came to, and acted upon reſolutions which are contained in this book. ^* Reſolutions pointed to the puri⯑fication of a parliament, dangerouſly corrupted into the very ſtate deſcribed by Mr. Paine. Re⯑member here too, that I impute no cenſure to Mr. Pitt. It was the moſt brilliant paſſage in [184]his life, and I ſhould have thought his life a better one, if he had continued uniform in the ſupport of opinions, which it is ſaid he has not changed, and which certainly have had no⯑thing to change them. But at all events, I have a right to make uſe of the authority of his ſplendid talents and ſituation, not merely to protect the defendant, but the public, and to reſiſt the precedent, That what one man may do in England with approbation and glory, ſhall conduct another man to a pillory or a pri⯑ſon.

It was the abuſes pointed out by the man be⯑fore you, that led that Right Hon. Gentleman to aſſociate with many others of high rank, under the banners of the Duke of Richmond, whoſe name ſtands at the head of the liſt, and to paſs various public reſolutions, concerning the abſolute neceſſity of purifying the Houſe of Commons; and we collect the plan from a pre⯑amble entered in the book. ‘Whereas the life, liberty and property of every man is or may be affected by the law of the land in which he lives, and every man is bound to pay obedi⯑ence to the ſame.’

‘And whereas, by the conſtitution of this kingdom the right of making laws is veſted in three eſtates, of King, Lords, and Com⯑mons, in parliament aſſembled, and the con⯑ſent of all the three ſaid eſtates, comprehend⯑ing the whole community, is neceſſary to make laws to bind the whole community. And whereas the Houſe of Commons repre⯑ſents all the Commons of the realm, and the [185]conſent of the Houſe of Commons binds the conſent of all the Commons of the realm, and in all caſes on which the legiſlature is compe⯑tent to decide.’

‘And whereas no man is, or can be actually repreſented who hath not a vote in the elec⯑tion of his repreſentative.’

‘And whereas it is the right of every Com⯑moner of this realm (infants, perſons of in⯑ſane mind, and criminals incapacitated by law, only excepted) to have a vote in the election of the repreſentative who is to give his conſent to the making of laws by which he is to be bound.’

‘And whereas the number of perſons who are ſuffered to vote for electing the members of the Houſe of Commons, do not at this time amount to one-ſixth part of the whole Commons of this realm, whereby far the greater part of the ſaid Commons are deprived of their right to elect their repreſentatives; and the conſent of the majority of the whole community to the paſſing of laws, is given by perſons whom they have not delegated for ſuch purpoſes; and the majority of the ſaid community, and to which the ſaid ma⯑jority have not in fact conſented by them⯑ſelves or by their repreſentatives.’

‘And whereas the ſtate of election of mem⯑bers of the Houſe of Commons, hath in proceſs of time ſo groſly deviated from its ſimple and natural principle of repreſentation and equality, that in ſeveral places, the mem⯑bers are returned by the property of one man; [186]that the ſmalleſt boroughs ſend as many members as the largeſt counties, and that a majority of the repreſentatives of the whole nation are choſen by a number of votes not exceeding twelve thouſand.’

Theſe with many others, were publiſhed, not as abſtract, ſpeculative writings, but within a few days after the Houſe of Commons had declared that no ſuch rights exiſted, and that no alteration was neceſſary in the repreſentation. It was then that they met at the Thatched Houſe, and publiſhed their opinions and reſo⯑lutions to the country at large.—Were any of them proſecuted for theſe proceedings? Cer⯑tainly not, (for they were legal proceedings.) But I deſire you as men of honour and truth, to compare all this with Mr. Paine's expreſſion of the Miniſter's touching Parliament with his opiate wand, and let equal juſtice be done—that is all I aſk—let all be puniſhed or none—do not let Mr. Paine be held out to the con⯑tempt of the public upon the ſcore of his ob⯑ſervations on parliament, while others are enjoying all the ſweets which attend a ſuppoſed attachment to their country, who have ſaid the ſame things, and reduced their opinions to practice.

But now every man is to be cried down for ſuch opinions. I obſerved that my learned friend ſignificantly raiſed his voice in naming Mr. Horne Tooke, as if to connect him with Paine, or Paine with him. This is exactly the ſame courſe of juſtice; for after all he ſaid no⯑thing of Mr. Tooke. What could he have [187]ſaid, but that he was a ſubſcriber with the great names. I have read in theſe proceedings which they have thought fit to deſert.

Gentlemen, let others hold their opinions, and change them at their pleaſure; I ſhall ever maintain it to be the deareſt privilege of the people of Great Britain to watch over every thing that affects their good government, either in the ſyſtem, or in the practice: and that for this purpoſe the preſs muſt be free. It has always been ſo, and much evil has been cor⯑rected by it.—If government finds itſelf an⯑noyed by it, let it examine it's own conduct, and it will find the cauſe,—let it amend it, and it will find the remedy.

Gentlemen, I am no friend to ſarcaſms in the diſcuſſion of grave ſubjects, but you muſt take writers according to the view of the mind at the moment; Mr. Burke as often as any body indulges in it:—hear his reaſon in his ſpeech on reform, for not taking away the ſalaries from Lords who attend upon the Britiſh Court. "You would," ſaid he, ‘have the court deſert⯑ed by all the nobility of the kingdom.’

‘Sir, the moſt ſerious miſchiefs would fol⯑low from ſuch a deſertion. Kings are natu⯑rally lovers of low company; they are ſo elevated above all the reſt of mankind, that they muſt look upon all their ſubjects as on a level: they are rather apt to hate than to love their nobility, on account of the occa⯑ſional reſiſtance to their will, which will be made by their virtue, their petulance, or their pride. It muſt indeed be admitted, that [188]many of the nobility are as perfectly willing to act the part of flatterers, tale-bearers, pa⯑raſites, pimps, and buſſoons, as any of the loweſt and vileſt of mankind can poſſibly be. But they are not properly qualified for this object of their ambition. The want of a regular education, and early habits, with ſome lurking remains of their dignity, will never permit them to become a match for an Italian eunuch, a mountebank, a ſidler, a player, or any regular practitioner of that tribe. The Roman Emperors, almoſt from the beginning, threw themſelves into ſuch hands; and the miſchief increaſed every day, till it's decline, and it's final ruin. It is, therefore, of very great importance (pro⯑vided the thing is not overdone,) to contrive ſuch an eſtabliſhment as muſt, almoſt whether a prince will or not, bring into daily and hourly offices about his perſon, a great number of his firſt nobility; and it is rather an uſeful prejudice that gives them a pride in ſuch a ſervitude: though they are not much the better for a court, a court will be much the better for them. I have therefore, not attempted to reform any of the offices of honour about the King's perſon.’

What is this but ſaying that a King is an animal ſo incurably addicted to low company, as generally to bring on by it the ruin of nations; but nevertheleſs, he is to be kept as a neceſſary evil, and his propenſities bridled by ſurrounding him with a parcel of miſcreants ſtill worſe if poſſible, but better than thoſe he [189]would choſe for himſelf.—This therefore, if taken by itſelf, would be a moſt abominable and libellous ſarcaſm on Kings and Nobility: but look at the whole ſpeech, and you obſerve a great ſyſtem of regulation; and no man, I be⯑lieve, ever doubted Mr. Burke's attachment to monarchy. To judge, therefore, of any part of a writing, the whole muſt be read.

With the ſame view I mean to read to you the beginning of Harrington's Oceana: but it is impoſſible to name this well known author without expoſing to juſt contempt and ridicule the ignorant or profligate miſrepreſentations which are vomited forth upon the public, to bear down every man as deſperately wicked, who in any age or country has countenanced a Republic, for the mean purpoſe of prejudging this trial.

Is this the way to ſupport the Engliſh con⯑ſtitution? Are theſe the means by which Engliſhmen are to be taught to cheriſh it? I ſay, if the man upon trial were ſtained with blood inſtead of ink,—if he were covered over with crimes which human nature would ſtart at the naming of, the means employed againſt him would not be the leſs diſgraceful.

For this notable purpoſe then, Harrington, not above a week ago, was handed out to us as a low, obſcure wretch, involved in the murder of the Monarch, and the deſtruction of the [190]Monarchy, and as addreſſing his deſpicable works at the ſhrine of an Uſurper. Yet this very Harrington, this low blackguard, was de⯑ſcended (you may ſee his pedigree at the Herald's Office for ſixpence,) from eight Dukes, three Marquiſſes, ſeventy Earls, twenty-ſeven Viſcounts, and thirty-ſix Barons, ſixteen of whom were Knights of the Garter; a deſcent which I think would ſave a man from diſgrace in any of the circles of Germany. But what was he beſides?—A BLOOD-STAINED RUFFIAN? Oh brutal ignorance of the hiſtory of the Country! He was the moſt affectionate ſervant of Charles the Firſt, from whom he never concealed his opi⯑nions: for it is obſerved by Wood, that the King greatly affected his company; but when they happened to talk of a Common-wealth, he would ſcarcely endure it.—'I know not,' ſays Toland, ‘which moſt to commend; the King for truſting an honeſt man, though a Repub⯑lican; or Harrington for owning his principles while he ſerved a King.’

But did his opinions affect his conduct?— Let Hiſtory again anſwer.—He preſerved his fidelity to his unhappy Prince to the very laſt, af⯑ter all his fawning courtiers had left him to his enraged ſubjects. He ſtaid with him while a priſoner in the Iſle of Wight: came up by ſtealth to follow the fortunes of his monarch and maſter; even hid himſelf in the boot of the coach when he was conveyed to Windſor; and ending a [...] he began, fell into his arms and fainted on the ſcaffold.

After Charles's death, the Oceana was writ⯑ten, [191]and, as if it were written from juſtice and affection to his memory: for it breathes the ſame noble and ſpirited regard, and aſſerts that it was not Charles that brought on the deſtruc⯑tion of the monarchy, but the feeble and ill conſtituted nature of monarchy itſelf.

But the book was a flattery to Cromwell.— Once more and finally let hiſtory decide.

It was ſeized by the Uſurper as a libel, and the way it was recovered is remarkable. I mention it to ſhew that Cromwell was a wiſe man in himſelf, and knew on what govern⯑ments muſt ſtand for their ſupport.

Harrington waited on his daughter to beg for his book, and on entering her apartment, ſnatched up her child and ran away.—On her following him with ſurprize and terror, he turned to her and ſaid, ‘I know what you feel as a mother, feel then for me; your father has got my child:’ meaning the Oceana. The Oceana was afterwards reſtored on her petition; Cromwell anſwering with the ſagacity of a ſound politician, ‘Let him have his book; if my government is made to ſtand, it has nothing to fear from PAPER SHOT.’—He ſaid true.—No good government will ever be battered by paper ſhot. Monteſquieu ſays that ‘In a free nation, it matters not whether indi⯑viduals reaſon well or ill; it is ſufficient that they do reaſon. Truth ariſes from the col⯑liſion, and from hence ſprings liberty, which is a ſecurity from the effect of reaſoning.’ The Attorney-General read extracts from Mr. Adams's anſwer to this book. Let others do [192]like Mr. Adams: I am not inſiſting upon the infallibility of Mr Paine's doctrines; if they are erroneous, let them be anſwered, and truth will ſpring from the colliſion.

A diſpoſition in a nation to this ſpecies of controverſy, is no proof of ſedition or de⯑generacy, but quite the reverſe, as is men⯑tioned by Milton, [I omitted to cite the paſſage with the others] who in ſpeaking of this ſubject, riſes into that inexpreſſibly ſub⯑lime ſtile of writing, wholly peculiar to himſelf. He was indeed no plagiary from any thing human: he looked up for light and expreſſion, as he himſelf wonderfully deſcribes it, by de⯑vout prayer to that great Being, who is the ſource of all utterance and knowledge; and who ſendeth out his ſeraphim with the hallowed fire of his altars to touch and purify the lips of whom he pleaſes. ‘When the chearfulneſs of the people,’ ſays this mighty poet, ‘is ſo ſprightly up, as that it has not only where⯑with to guard well it's own freedom and ſafety, but to ſpare, and to beſtow upon the ſolideſt and ſublimeſt points of controverſy and new invention, it betokens us not de⯑generated nor drooping to a fatal decay, but caſting off the old and wrinkled ſkin of cor⯑ruption to outlive theſe pangs, and wax young again, entering the glorious ways of truth and proſperous virtue, deſtined to become great and honourable in theſe latter ages. Me⯑thinks I ſee, in my mind, a noble and puiſ⯑ſant nation rouſing herſelf, like a ſtrong man after ſleep, and ſhaking her invincible locks; methinks I ſee her as an eagle muing her [193]mighty youth, and kindling her undazzled eyes at the full mid-day beam; purging and unſcaling her long abuſed ſight at the foun⯑tain itſelf of heavenly radiance; while the whole noiſe of timorous and flocking birds, with thoſe alſo that love the twilight, flutter about, amazed at what ſhe means, and in their envious gabble would prognoſticate a year of ſects and ſchiſms.’

Gentlemen, what Milton only ſaw in his mighty imagination, I ſee in fact; what he ex⯑pected, but which never came to paſs, I ſee now fulfilling: methinks I ſee this noble and puiſ⯑ſant nation, not degenerated and drooping to a fatal decay, but caſting off the wrinkled ſkin of corruption to put on again the vigour of her youth.

And it is, becauſe others, as well as myſelf ſee this, that we have all this uproar:—France and its conſtitution are the mere pretences. It is, becauſe Britons begin to recollect the inhe⯑ritance of their own conſtitution, left them by their anceſtors: It is, becauſe they are awakened to the corruptions which have fallen upon its moſt valuable parts, that forſooth the nation is in danger of being deſtroyed by a ſingle pam⯑phlet.

Gentlemen, I have marked the courſe of this alarm: It began with the renovation of thoſe exertions for the public, which the authors of the alarm had themſelves originated and de⯑ſerted; and they became louder and louder when they ſaw theſe principles avowed and ſupported by my admirable and excellent friend [194]Mr. FOX; the moſt eminently honeſt and en⯑lightened ſtateſman, that hiſtory brings us ac⯑quainted with: a man whom to name is to ho⯑nour, but whom in attempting adequately to deſcribe, I muſt fly to Mr. Burke, my conſtant refuge when eloquence is neceſſary: a man, who to relieve the ſufferings of the moſt diſ⯑tant nation, ‘put to the hazard his eaſe, his ſe⯑curity, his intereſt, his power, even his darling popularity for the benefit of a people whom he had never ſeen.’ How much more then for the inhabitants of his native country: yet this is the man who has been cenſured and diſ⯑avowed in the manner we have lately ſeen.

Gentlemen, I have but a few more words to trouble you with: I take my leave of you with declaring, that all this freedom which I have been endeavouring to aſſert, is no more than the freedom which belongs to our own inbred conſtitution: I have not aſked you to acquit Mr. Paine upon any new lights, or upon any principle but the law, which you are ſworn to adminiſter: My great object has been to in⯑culcate, that wiſdom and policy, which are the parents of the law of Great Britain, forbid this jealous eye over her ſubjects; and that, on the contrary, they cry aloud in the language of the poet, employed by Lord Chatham on the me⯑morable ſubject of America, unfortunately without effect:

[195]Engage them by their affections, convince their reaſon, and they will be loyal from the only principle that can make loyalty ſincere, vigorous, or rational, a conviction that it is their trueſt intereſt, and that their form of go⯑vernment is for their common good. Con⯑ſtraint is the natural parent of reſiſtance, and a pregnant proof, that reaſon is not on the ſide of thoſe who uſe it. You muſt all remember, gen⯑tlemen, Lucian's pleaſant ſtory; Jupiter and a countryman were walking together, converſing with great freedom and familiarity upon the ſubject of heaven and earth. The countryman liſtened with attention and acquieſcence, while Jupiter ſtrove only to convince him; but hap⯑pening to hint a doubt, Jupiter turned haſtily round and threatened him with his thunder.— "Ah! ha!" ſays the countryman, ‘now Jupiter, I know that you are wrong; you're always wrong when you appeal to your thunder.’

This is the caſe with me—I can reaſon with the people of England, but I cannot fight againſt the thunder of authority.

Gentlemen, this is my defence for free opi⯑nions. With regard to myſelf, I am, and ever have been, obedient and affectionate to the law: to that rule of action, as long as I exiſt, I ſhall ever give my voice and my conduct; but I ſhall ever do as I have done to-day, maintain the dignity of my high profeſſion, and perform, as I underſtand them, all its important duties.

[Mr. Attorney General aroſe immediately to reply to Mr. Erſkine, when Mr. Campbell (the [196]foreman of the Jury) ſaid,—My Lord, I am authorized by the Jury here, to inform the At⯑torney General, that a reply is not neceſſary for them, unleſs the Attorney General wiſhes to make it, or your Lordſhip.—Mr. Attorney Ge⯑neral ſat down, and the Jury gave in their ver⯑dict, GUILTY.