{A slight sketch of my Father, when over 70, taken in Court by Mr. JosephGeldart of Norwich: p0. Jpg} W. & H. S. Warr 63, High Holborn A SKETCH OF THE LIFEOF THE LATEHENRY COOPER, BARRISTER-AT-LAW, OF THE NORFOLK CIRCUIT;AS ALSO, OF HIS FATHER, BY HIS SON, WILLIAM COOPER, ESQ. , B. A. , Oxon. , _Of Lincoln's Inn_, _Barrister at Law_; AUTHOR OF THE DRAMAS OF "THE STUDENT OF JENA, " "MOKANNA, ""ZOPYRUS, " &c. "MEMINISSE JUVAT. " LONDON:PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY W. & H. S. WARR, 63, HIGH HOLBORN. DEDICATION. To MR. SERGEANT STORKS. DEAR MR. SERGEANT, To you I dedicate this sketch of the Life of my late brother, HenryCooper; and, for three good reasons--the first, because, you wereassociated with my brother on circuit, knew him well, and were one ofthose, who being often opposed to him in court, were best able toappreciate his talents, eloquence, and the general powers of his mind;--mysecond, because, when young, I have listened often to your eloquence, andbeen made merry by your wit and humour;--my third, because, you haveknown all my family, and by one and all are much respected;--and my dearMr. Sergeant, with kind regards to yourself, and best wishes to you andyours, Believe me, Yours very truly, WILLIAM COOPER. 3, HARE COURT, TEMPLE, _December_, 1856. PREFACE. KIND READER, In attempting the life of my late brother, who, after struggling foryears at the bar in almost obscurity, had, on a sudden, his brilliancynoticed and his great talents acknowledged, and no sooner had he reachedthat eminence in his profession, when all was made easy before him, thanunpitying Clolho stept up, and cut his thread of life; I must ask yourindulgence, for the reasons you will see, as you proceed in this my lifeof him, as also, from the very scanty materials I have been able tocollect for it. How the first idea of this suggested itself to my mind, I will tell you; a few days ago, I was about to re-publish some Dramas, written by me in earlier years, and thinking one of them would scarcelymake a volume by itself, the _thought struck me_, on looking over mytreasures, and finding some verses of my brother Henry in his own handwriting, amidst many youthful rhymes of my own and of my family, _that_ Iwould string them together, and so swell the work alluded to. To do thisI thought it necessary to affix a short heading to each, to particularizethe writer, and for this purpose wrote, to head my brother's, a shortbiographical sketch of him, consisting of about thirty lines, andquitting my house, left it on my way to chambers at my printers, returnedhome, the labours of the day over, --went to bed, but not to sleep, thought of my late brother, of that I had written of him, pondered overthe past anecdotes of his life, that had been often told me, recalled hisimage to my memory, and amidst airy visions of the past, of my father, earlier days, and of youthful pleasures mixed with pain, fellasleep--BUT--with a determination. To carry it out, --on the morrow Ibegan this sketch. You must judge how I have performed my self-imposedtask, and wishing it may amuse you, and encourage young aspirants whoshall chance to read it, not to give way under difficulties, butstrenuously to persevere, seeing how much may be achieved by diligenceand a determination not to yield, remembering ever the good advice andthe useful maxim delivered of old:-- "Tu ne cede malis sed contra Audacior ito--" "Possunt quia posse videntur. " I am, yours faithfully, W. COOPER. LIFE OF HENRY COOPER. The subject of the present memoir, Henry Cooper, was born at a house inBethel Street, in the City of Norwich, now well-known as the lateresidence of Alderman Hawkes, and where resided for many years hisfather, Charles, now better known as Old Counsellor Cooper, a remarkableman, who, like the late William Cobbett, though of humble origin, possessed one of those minds that will and must, as they have ever donefrom the time of Deioces of Ecbatana (recorded by Herodotus) till now, elevate the possessor and compel the homage, whilst exciting the no smallenvy of inferior intellects. What education he received was at a smallschool kept by the Rev. John Bruckner (a Lutheran Divine), who died in1804, and was buried at Guist, in Norfolk, where French, Latin, and thecommon rudiments of an English education were taught; and where, too, thelate William Taylor, --perhaps one of the most extraordinary men Norwichever produced, the early and intimate friend of Southey, and who was thefirst, according to Lockhart's Life of Scott, to give that great writer ataste for poetry by his (Taylor's) spirited and inimitable translation ofBurger's well known ballad beginning, -- "At break of day from frightful dreams up started Eleanor, " was his fellow pupil, and who has told me what a gentle, industrious, andamiable boy he remembered my father (truly, in this instance, the childwas father of the man); there he acquired, no doubt, some knowledge, butit was far more to his own self-instruction that he was indebted for thelarge and varied knowledge he possessed, for, as his brother Samuel (hisonly and younger brother, --he had a sister but she died young) informedmy mother that such was his early thirst for knowledge, that he not onlyrepudiated all play, and the sports of boyhood, taught himself Greek, andgreedily devoured the contents of every book that came within his reach, but would, with the pocket-money given him, purchase candles, and whenthe family had retired to rest, light one, and sit and read till the dawnof day, when he would creep into bed, and sleep till the hour of call, when he would rise to resume anew his mental exercise. So years past by, and the young and sickly looking boy grew into the youth, when hisfather, a man of strong intellect, with a great deal of sound commonsense, perceiving the bent of his son's mind, --and being a man who hadretired early in life from business with a small property, on which helived in a house at Heigham (a hamlet within the city), --at once placedhis son Charles with one of the most respectable attornies, in largebusiness in Norwich, as an articled clerk to the law, where he very soon, by his persevering industry, his assiduity, and the great acuteness shownin every matter entrusted to his care and management, so conciliated thegood opinion of his master, who discovered progressively, the evidentmarks of superior abilities [here, too, he indulged to an excess hisinsatiable thirst for reading, that he would sit up the greater part ofthe night for this purpose, to the neglect and injury of his health], that at the termination of his engagement, his conduct was so acceptable, and his services so manifest, and his influence, too, among the clients, was found to be so extensive, that on his obtaining his certificate topractise as an attorney, his principal was glad to offer him a share inthe business, and receive him as a partner; the reputation he had alreadyacquired became wide spread, and quickly raised the firm in theestimation of the public, and clients flocked to it, and all would see, if they could, and consult with Mr. Cooper on their affairs. Some years thus passed, when, from some cause or other, a dissolutiontook place in the partnership, and when, probably from the advice offriends stimulated by his wife's ambition (a Miss Yarrington, a woman asI have been given to understand, of masculine mind, vast energy, andindomitable spirit, whom her son Henry has been often said by those whoknew her, to have resembled in more than features, for in face heresembled his mother), he was induced to enter himself at Lincoln's Inn, which he accordingly did in the year 1782, and is thus entered: "CharlesCooper, of the City of Norwich, eldest son of Charles Cooper of the sameplace, merchant, admitted 22nd of April, 1782. " Prior to this, aremarkable incident occurred in his life: he undertook the conduct of acause of great intricacy and importance for a pauper, a labouringblacksmith. An extensive and valuable landed property, well-known as ObyHall, with its extensive demesnes, had been for a long time in abeyance;the property was estimated at that period, at not less than 30, 000pounds; on failure of male issue, the descendants on the female side putin their claim, among whom the blacksmith stood foremost; he came, consulted with my father on his claim, who became after a time, convincedof the solidity of his title; and after examining it with indefatigableassiduity, he at length, after much entreaty, undertook to carry hiscause through every court, were it necessary, upon certain conditions;the conditions were, that if my father succeeded in gaining the cause, inconsideration of taking upon himself all the risk, expenses, and labour, he should enjoy the estate; whilst the claimant, having no relations butthe most distant, if any, was to receive an annuity for life of 300pounds. After almost insurmountable difficulties, great expense, andconsumption of time and labour, the long anticipated time arrived whenthe trial was to decide the question of such grave moment to the partiesconcerned: Lord Erskine came down to Norwich specially retained for theclaimant (the origin, I believe of his after intimacy with Henry), thecase came on for trial, --was fought on both sides with all the abilityand ingenuity such a cause demanded (I forget the name of the opposingcounsel), the claimant's title was confirmed, and the estate gained. Theclaimant lived but a little more than a year or two after to receive hisannuity, to him absolute wealth; and he died, I have heard, expressing tothe last, his gratitude to (as he styled my father) his protector. Unfortunately, coming into the possession of the estate, my father mustturn farmer, and like him, I have before compared him to, and I haveoften thought since reading the works of Cobbett, that there was asimilarity in their thoughts on many subjects; he soon began to farm at afearful loss (for to be a gainful farmer, so farmers hold, or rather theydid then, a man should properly be trained to it from his youth), he wasforced to trust to others to do what he should himself have done, andbeing still occupied in his professional pursuits at Norwich, his visitsto the hall and the estate were but occasional, and the eye of the masterwas but too often absent; his family, however, resided there, consistingof his wife and his four children, Charles, Henry, Harriet, and Alfred, and there his affections were centred, so that it cannot be wondered at, that with a divided duty, and the course pursued, ere many years, but Iam forestalling, the estate soon became involved, and eventually he wascompelled to part with it at a loss, or rather with no gain, for at thetime of its sale, which happened at a period during the long war, landfell all of a sudden greatly in value, and the seller was glad toexperience the truth of the old saying-- "When house and land and all are spent, Then learning is most excellent. " This sale, however, did not occur till some years after the death of hisfirst wife, and when he had married his second, a Miss Rose White, mymother, and by whom he had several children, seven only living tomaturity, all of whom, I being the eldest, having survived him. Hisfirst family, with the exception of his daughter, who died a few yearsago, having all died previous to the decease of their father. Afterhaving pursued his studies with his accustomed assiduity, in chambers hehad taken in Stone Buildings, and eaten his terms, he was called to thebar on the 9th of June, in the year 1788. (For these several dates I amindebted to the kindness of Mr. Doyle, the greatly respected steward ofLincoln's Inn. ) When, having resided a few terms in London, he hastilyleft the metropolis--the true and only sphere for the full development ofextensive legal knowledge and great abilities, such as his, --to resideand practise as a provincial barrister in his native city; where, fromhis previous reputation, not only as a lawyer well versed in common law, with great knowledge in the practical parts of it, but as a most skilfulconveyancer, and great real property lawyer, with a deep knowledge of allits intricacies and moot points, he, at once, obtained considerablepractice, and a fine income, which, I believe, by present provincialcounsel would be regarded rather as a fiction than reality. He was, moreover, a fluent speaker, with diction pure, and most grammatical. Iought, here, perhaps, to mention what will seem strange to the presentgeneration, that I have often heard my father say, that the first book hebegan to study law from was "Wood's Institutes, " a book that "theCommentaries of Blackstone, " rendering the study of the law far moreintelligible and easy to the student, has long completely superseded. InNorwich he continued to reside up to his death, where he was ever appliedto by every attorney, without exception, far and near, if any verydifficult point of law arose; and, till within some few years prior tohis death, which happened on the 21st of July, 1836, when age as, isusual, though it kindly spared the vigour of his intellect, yet broughtwith it its physical weakness and ailments, he was employed as leadingcounsel in many important causes, where legal knowledge and acumen wasrequired; and, in the courts, from the high reputation he had acquired, he ever commanded the ear of the judges, and the respect of his brethrenat the bar. He had the joy, too, to live to see his son Henry risingfast to eminence in the same profession, though the after pang andanguish to sorrow for his death; and he grieved for him in heart, thoughnot his youngest, as did Jacob at the imagined loss of his favourite, and, in my opinion, never did he quite get over it; he not only loved, but was proud of him. The latter years of him, whose life I have thus briefly sketched, werepast at his small country residence, situated at Lakenham, where hissecond wife, who survived him, my mother, now seventy-four, stillresides, a hamlet of and situate two miles from Norwich, where he spentthe chief of his time, of that he could spare from the city where hepractised, till up to the last twelve months of his life, when in hiseighty-fourth year he expired, worn out with past exertion and years, andwas, as chief Coroner and Magistrate of the Close and its precincts, under the jurisdiction of the Dean and Chapter, buried within thecloisters of the cathedral. By his family, from his sweetness of disposition, kindness of heart, andamiability of temper, he was tenderly beloved and regretted, and stillwhenever recalled to memory in the quietude of the chamber the eye willever be moistened by a tear, and the heart kindle at the recollection;and by many others he was and will be yet greatly missed; the poor andstruggling literary man he would encourage not only with praise, but withhis purse, and, THAT, the poor and needy had ever open to them, and hisadvice besides gratuitously, whenever required (and this might beconfirmed by hundreds still living "in the ONCE ancient city, " as acertain wise Alderman of yore styled it), and to their affairs he wouldgive as much attention as to the richest client; his private memorandaalone, after death, told his good deeds, for he strictly adhered to thebeautiful doctrine laid down by the great Teacher, "But when thou doestalms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth, "--"_Quandoullum invenies parem_?" Of his first family, Charles, the eldest son, was intended for the bar, and was entered at Lincoln's Inn, but from the natural sensitiveness ofhis disposition he never kept his terms, and soon gave up all thoughts ofthe profession; he lingered at home, a Westminster scholar, a man ofextensive reading, and of great intelligence [as I have been informed, for I was much too young fully to appreciate him], till after many years, on Henry's quitting Bermudas, he became the secretary to Sir JamesCockburn, in which employment he continued some years, and only returnedwhen Sir James ceased to be the governor. He then became a kind ofsuperior clerk in the Marine office then held in Spring Gardens, andsubsequently died at the age of about forty-five or forty-eight ofconsumption, a complaint of the mother's family. Alfred went into thearmy as an ensign, was at the battle of Waterloo, was wounded there, wasordered and went subsequently to India with his regiment, the 14th Foot, where, years after, just as he had obtained a sick leave to return home, he was shot at Dinapoor, whilst reposing on his sofa, thinking probably, or dreaming of home and its affections, by a drunken Sepoy, mistaking him(in his mad excitement) for his servant, who had just previously refusedhim drink; the occurrence caused, necessarily, great excitement and muchconversation at the time, the man was caught and hanged--a satisfactionto justice, but a wretched consolation to his family, by whom, as theyoungest, and amiable as he was gentle, he was most fondly loved. Hisfather and sister, I believe, were never made acquainted with the truecause of his death. A letter of Henry's relating, though indistinctly, for evident reasons, to the sad occurrence, will be placed before thereader. Harriet, as I have said, the only sister (who married a Dr. Leath, a physician in the army, who resides still at Bayswater) died notvery long ago, leaving no issue. Having given a sketch, which I think and hope will have interested thereader of him, from whom He sprung, whose life I am about to delineate. Iwill now proceed to depict the life of the Son, with the simple remarkthat I have undertaken a task of no slight difficulty (and much such anone as that of the poor Jews, who, under their hard taskmasters in Egypt, were set to make bricks without straw), with very slight materials todescribe the life of one who died when I was sixteen, and whom I lovedfrom his unvaried kindness to me, of the life of one who, had he lived, would have had a far abler biographer. Henry, in early life, took apropensity to and entered the navy, and was a midshipman in the battle ofthe Nile, but soon after, disliking the service, quitted the profession. His education, when he returned from sea, was, through indulgence, neglected: and he passed most of his time at Oby Hall, in Norfolk, thethen residence of his father, and distant about eight miles fromYarmouth, in shooting, fishing, and driving a tandem-cart about thecountry, built of unusual height; and an anecdote is related of him, that, after driving it awhile, he went to Mr. Clements, the builder atNorwich, and said, "Well, Clements, you have built a machine to surpriseall the world, and I am come to surprise you by paying you for it. " Andto show his early quick perception, ready reply, wilfulness, andprecocity, I must here relate two well-attested anecdotes: the first, when quite a child, and at his lessons in the nursery, on his mother'srunning up to dispel the noise and disturbance he was making, sheexclaimed in anger, after in some measure correcting him, "Why, sir, ifyou go on in this manner you'll turn the house out of the windows, " theyoung gentleman, looking roguishly at his mother, responded, "How can Ido that, Ma, for the house is bigger than the windows?" this of coursedissipated all anger, and brought a smile to the mother's face; silence, however, was restored and study resumed. The other, when he was abouteleven or twelve years of age, a poor soldier, who had been kind to him, assisting him in his fishing, boating, &c. , and who was at that timecleaning harness for my brother in the stable, was arrested by an escortof soldiers, who suddenly came to apprehend and convey him, for somealleged offence, to the head quarters at Yarmouth; without saying a wordor leaving a message behind him, young Henry started off with his friendand the soldiers, telling the captive, "Never to care, for he would behis advocate. " He was, after some time had elapsed, missed; search wasmade for him in every direction till night came on, but no traces of hiswhereabouts could be discovered, and, with fearful anxiety, as I haveheard my father often say, all, at last, worn out and weary with thefruitless search, retired to bed, but not to rest; care brooded overtheir pillows and dispelled sleep. Morning, at last, came, but with itno tidings of Henry; and, when alarm had reached its height, in ran theservant lad, in breathless haste, exclaiming, "Master Henry is found, "and soon after he was seen, being borne in triumph on a soldier's back, with others following, coming up the lawn. All were delighted to see thelost one safe, and, to delight was added astonishment, on a soldierputting into his father's hand a letter, which was quickly opened andread, and which came from the commanding officer. I regret that letteris lost; it spoke, I have often heard my father and mother relate, in thehighest terms of the youngster, and warmly congratulating the former onthe possession of such a son, so noble in bearing, so bold, and sotalented; adding, that he had pleaded the soldier's case so well, that hehad, so young an advocate as he was, obtained the acquittal of hisclient. As he grew up in years he was the pride and terror of the littlefarmers of the neighbourhood, --the first from his ready wit, playful, andgenial disposition, which he ever retained; the latter from the practicaljokes he was constantly in the habit of playing on them, many of whichare remembered and spoken of at, and around Oby, up to the present day:and he had the love of all, for, if they wanted game, or any kindnessdone them, they had only to ask and have. But midst this he read, and helacked not mental food to feed on, as his father possessed a large andwell-stocked library. Henry's reading, however, was necessarilydesultory and discursive, but such the retention of his memory, that heforgot nothing he had once conned; as an instance of this I must relatean anecdote, often told of him by Mr. Jay, an attorney at Norwich, stillliving, and who was an excellent client, and a great admirer of mybrother, that soon after large business flowed in upon him, and he wentinto court with a bag full of briefs; to his Mr. Jay's utterastonishment, after a case had been called on, in which he was theattorney, and the several witnesses had been called, examined, and thecause gained, my brother, who had led it, turned round, and said, "ThereJay, I have won your cause, but I will be hanged if I know where yourbrief is; I read it, but somehow lost it. " He, of course, used blankpaper for his notes. His perception, too, was so acute, his imaginationso vivid, and his memory so retentive, that he could at once, and readilyapply the knowledge so widely gleaned to the subject under discussion, that they who were ignorant of his previous mental instruction, wouldhave imagined that he had, in earlier years, been the lean and diligentstudent, who had wasted the midnight oil in meditation and deep research. After an interval of years, he became a member of Lincoln's Inn, when indue course of time he was proposed by the late Mr. Justice, then JamesAllan Parke, Esquire, and called to the bar, May 25th, 1811. Soon afterhis call, he accompanied Sir James Cockburn, who had been just appointedgovernor of the Bermudas, as his secretary, and after a short period, onhis arrival there, was made Attorney General, the duties of which officehe for some years performed to the entire satisfaction of the governor. His letters thence, I have understood, contained beautiful and vividdescriptions of "That happy island where huge lemons grow" [he was an admirer of scenery and nature], and that the wit, graphicportraitures of the men in office on the island, the general chit chat, scandle and fun, intermixed with politics, occasional rhymes, &c. , putthe reader [since dead] of a few of them, in mind of the letters of LordByron. After his return home, he took chambers in Fig Tree or Elm Court, in the Temple, read and awaited clients, and went the Norfolk circuit;but, alas! few profitable knocks came to his door, and the circuityielded rather expense than profit; but on he went struggling andstruggling, till at last his talents were acknowledged; and the fouryears preceding his death, he was an eminent leader, and engaged inalmost every cause throughout his circuit, and rapidly gaining areputation in London from "the very eloquent, bold, and honest style ofhis defence, " for Mary Ann Carlile, who was prosecuted, by what was thenstyled the Constitutional Association, for publishing a libel upon thegovernment, and the constitution of this country. The trial ended aftera brilliant speech of the defendant's counsel, full of argument, eloquence, and ability, in the dismissal of the jury, after being lockedup all night; the counsel for the prosecution, the late Mr. Baron Gurney, consenting to their discharge. The report of the trial, and HenryCooper's speech in full, was printed and published by the notoriousRichard Carlile, who then kept a shop in Fleet Street. At the early ageof forty my brother died, and he was then looked on by the profession, asa man, who, had he lived, must have achieved the highest honours in it. He was an ardent admirer of, and some of his friends were pleased to say, a close imitator of the oratory of Lord Erskine, with whom, till he died, he was on terms of the greatest intimacy. In fact he was writing hislife for publication, by the express desire of Erskine himself, whendeath staid the pen. Alas! but a few pages of it were written, and thosein the rough, I will, however, lay them, ere I have done, before thereader. Henry, the last four years of his going circuit, and when his abilitieswere acknowledged, was sometimes opposed to his father, to the no smallpleasure and amusement of the Norwich people, who as greatly respectedthe legal ability of the one, as they admired the eloquence of the other;and it was often a source of half suppressed laughter in that portion ofthe court set aside for the public to hear "my learned friend" bandedfrom one to the other by the two Athlete--Father and Son--the one aspowerful from his tact, energy, and fervid eloquence, as the other fromhis legal knowledge and great acumen, and who was often the victor, forthat knowledge, deep and extensive gave the father a superiority on thosepoints of a case, in which law and fact were intermingled, and which wereapt from Henry's comparative previous little business and short practiceas a leader to escape his attention, or when patent rendered him lesscapable effectually to grapple with the legal and knotty difficulty, forhe had never had the advantage of a pleader's chambers; nor let it bethought in those days that there were no giants to contend with--SergeantsBlosset, Frere, and Storks, Messrs. Plumptre, Eagle, Robinson, Prime, andothers of note, with Biggs Andrews, now Q. C. , and George Raymond, authorof the "Elliston Papers, " as juniors were on the circuit, all of whomhave long since been dead, with the exception of Mr. Sergeant Storks andthe four last named. And here I cannot do better than insert a paragraph signed J. S. , whichappeared in the _Times_, I think in or about the years 1831 or 1832; Icopy from the paragraph cut out from the paper, and at the time pasted inan album, to which the date was omitted to be attached. The paragraphwas headed, "The late Henry Cooper:"-- "To most of our legal readers, we feel convinced, that this week's sketch of the late Henry Cooper, the friend companion and intended biographer of the late Lord Erskine, will prove highly acceptable. The unexpected and melancholy event which deprived the bar of one of its most promising ornaments, and cast a shade over the gay and talented circle in which he moved, must be fresh within the memory of our readers. As yet no memoir, no frail tribute to stamp even a fleeting remembrance of his learning, professional fame, or liberal principles has appeared, and while worthless rank and heartlessness have been perpetuated by marble and the prostituted energies of literature, genius, talent, and honor, have been left to the obscurity of the grave; not one of those who shared his gay and mirthful hours, who listened enraptured to his eloquence and flashes of wit, which as Hamlet says 'were won't to set the table in a roar, ' have endeavoured by giving to the world his literary labours, or even a sketch of his life, to preserve his memory from oblivion. Henry Cooper was the son of an eminent counsellor of Norwich, a gentleman of powerful mind, whose legal knowledge has rendered him one of the first consulting men of the day. Even at his present advanced age of near eighty, he may be seen early of a morning taking his accustomed walk, or if the weather be too severe for exercise, found in his library surrounded by his books and papers. Raised by his own perseverance, and in a great measure self-educated, it is not to be wondered at if from such a father, the subject of our sketch, acquired those habits of perseverance and industry which enabled him by system to attain knowledge and fame in his profession. Upon being called to the bar his convivial powers and talent for conversation introduced him to Erskine, who found so much pleasure in his society, that they became not mere friends, but inseparable companions, and plunged together in the gay round of pleasure, which the world too temptingly presents to men whose minds enable them to watch its interests and guide the machine by which society is regulated. To all who knew him, and the thoughtless life he led, it was a matter of surprise how and when he found time to attend to the numerous cases of his clients, for his field of action soon became extended; yet we will venture to pronounce and feel confident of being borne out by those who knew him, that in no one instance did the cause of the party he advocated suffer. In the Court he appeared as well acquainted with the words of his brief, as if it had been for months the object of his most serious attention; not a thread or a link of evidence escaped him, and so persuasive was his manner, so argumentive his style of language, that the jury frequently received the impressions he wished to convey, and their feelings generally, if not their judgment, went in favour of his client. He used, on some occasions, to plead in the Norfolk Courts, and we have frequently seen him opposed to his father as a special pleader. The old gentlemen, strong in the possession of his youthful intellect, which time even to the present hour has failed to rob him of, was perhaps less assailable by his pleasing manner and florid speech than any of his brothers of the bar, and his ejaculations not always of the most complimentary nature, were sometimes loud and frequent. We have seen the son on such occasions always the first to smile at his father's petulance, and the last to express any sense of the impropriety of the interruption. We have seen the old gentleman, in the midst of his son's argument, write to the opposing counsel suggesting authorities and giving references and precedents against him, all with the most perfect good humour on both sides; and the greatest triumph he could boast was to defeat his son upon a point of law: on such occasions he would put his hands behind his back, and moving round with a chuckle, exclaim, "Something to learn yet, Harry!" The father's delight and pride in his superior legal knowledge over his son, became at last a standing joke with the barristers of the Court. The death of Lord Erskine blighted Henry Cooper's hopes to a seat in Parliament, where his eloquence and sarcasm would have made him powerful as an ally, and feared as an antagonist; liberal in his opinions to the present exclusive system of the church, he was a decided enemy, and a thorough reformer in the state. His services at a crisis like the present, would have been of incalculable benefit to his country. From the period of the loss of his friend, till his own untimely end, he devoted himself more than he had ever before, to literary pursuits and the labours of his profession. A life of Lord Erskine was nearly arranged for the press at the time of his decease, and it is to be regretted that as yet his labours have not been given, imperfect as they are, to the world; no one could have had better opportunities or have been better calculated for the task; alike the counsellor in his difficulties, the companion of his mirthful hours, the springs of action, the feelings of his breast, must have appeared unveiled before him; Death, however, prevented the completion of his task and removed him too early from the world his talents ornamented. " I had forgotten to say, that on his return from Bermudas he became andcontinued very intimate with the Cockburn family, and often prophesiedthe future success of the late Attorney General, now Chief Justice of theCourt of Common Pleas, then young Alexander Cockburn; and often has mybrother said to me, then about sixteen, when speaking of the abovefamily, "rely upon it, Billy, young Alexander, if he enter theprofession, will do great things in it; he is a remarkably clever, energetic, and talented young man. " Henry had much of the restlessnessand irritability, the usual accompaniments of a high order of talent, with great earnestness in diction and action. Ere I proceed further; the reader will, perhaps, be pleased with alikeness of the man. I should say, in height, he was about five-feeteleven-inches; of spare and sinewy frame, with an elastic tread, thatthose who knew him, and seeing him in the distance, might truly say, asUlysses of Diomede in Shakspeare's play of "Troilus and Cressida, " "'Tis he, I ken the manner of his gait; That spirit of his in aspiration lifts him from the earth. " And often have I heard the late Mr. Alderson (the father of the presentjudge), who travelled with my father, circuit and sessions as aprovincial barrister, more than thirty years, and who was resident atNorwich, say, --"that Henry always put him more in mind of a Spirit, thata man of flesh and blood;" his eye dark, like that of Edmund Kean's, thegreat actor, showed every emotion of the soul, now fiery with anger, nowglazed with thought, and anon, melting into softness; his head small, andfinely rounded, and covered with thick clustering curls of black crispyhair, was such as sculptors have ever loved to give the youthfulAntinous; his forehead retreating was characteristic, as Lavater says, "of genius;" his nose was slightly arched in the centre and slightlyfleshy near the nostrils; his face oval, with a well defined chin and amouth plain, but full of energy and expression, and similar to Sterne's, the contour, of whose face I always thought my brother's much resembled. I have thus given, to please the lover of physiognomy, "a shadowportrait, " not "a Myall's photograph, " which I hope will not only satisfythe physiognomist, but which I think they, who but even slightly rememberHenry Cooper, have but to place before the tablet of their memory andview the shade cast from it with their "mind's eye" to at once recall andrecognize the original. I have thus sketched his likeness, as I regretto say, thus only can he be now known, or viewed by those who wereunacquainted with him living, as no portrait of him is extant, he dyingyoung, and for years previous struggling to succeed in a profession wherethe "battle is not always to the strong, " though in the long run the bestman often succeeds, as with few exceptions, perhaps, the long race, barring accidents, is usually won by the best horse. He left no writingsbehind him save a few letters, beautifully expressed, but mostly relatingto family matters, and, therefore, uninteresting to the general reader, with the exception of five or six preserved by my mother, which I willgive the reader ere I have ended this biographical sketch; and the fewfriends with whom he corresponded, and to whom, occasionally, he showed, and gave the productions of his pen, though they considered him a man ofconsiderable talent, set such small value on his effusions, that, however, pleased at the time they might have been with them they were putaside forgotten and most probably destroyed, and what he himself chancedto write and was pleased with for the instant, was, from the naturalcarelessness of his disposition, hastily cast aside, and, no doubt, oftenburnt with the waste paper of his chambers; so that every endeavour Ihave made to possess even a shred of these scraps, has been futile. AllI have been able to gather are the few letters alluded to, with a fewpoetical lines which will be given to the reader; and, as we often judgeof character from trifles, he must, from the slight sketch I have given, and the small crumbs I have been able to collect, form a judgment of HIMI have endeavoured to describe. He had all but reached the height of hisprofession, when he was taken away, no doubt for a wise purpose, to thedeep and lasting regret of those who not only fondly loved him, but whohad begun to take, and no wonder, a warm pride in the object of theiraffections. He died on September 19th, 1824, having been attacked some days previousby a severe attack of diarrhoea, which, by some fatal mischance, wasmistaken by the surgeons who attended him, for brain fever; he was, consequently, bled, and drastic medicines were administered, which musthave hastened if they did not cause his death, which happened at thehouse of a friend of his, by the name of Hill, at Chelsea, where he wasburied, but his body was afterwards removed by his sister and depositedwhere it now lies, near his father's in the cloisters of NorwichCathedral. I will now lay before the reader the few letters I possess. By theletters of an ingenuous writer, it is said, you can gain a clearerinsight into his character, disposition, and mental powers, than by longassociation or familiar discourse; these letters have been kindly givenme by my mother, with whom Henry constantly corresponded, and whom healways treated with marked respect and affection, which was fullyreciprocated. They were addressed to her at Norwich, where she with myfather resided, and the first bears date, _London_, 3_rd_ _Nov. _ 1815. "My Dear Madam, "And it came to pass that when they emptied their sacks, lo! ev'ry man's money was in the mouth of his sack. " I have had the same measure from you which Joseph's liberality heaped on his brethren; and if you will but believe that my proposal to you, to be allowed to be a purchaser of half the preserved raspberry, was not a covert mode of begging it as a gift; I thank you without any regret, and am very much obliged to you. I thank you, too, very much for the pheasant which flew into the window of the mail coach, and startled me in St. Stephen's Street. George, who is a good lad, had put on his best legs, and soon overtaking the mail, threw it in '_sans ceremonie_. ' It was a pleasant disturbance from no very pleasant reverie, which my mind set out on the moment the coach set out from the inn; and which would, but for this agreeable interruption, have lasted me at least as long as the first stage. For the rest of the good things which you gave me while I was in Norwich, and sent me laden away with, I must thank you _en masse_; for to thank you one by one for them, would force me to write a long letter, which I have not the least intention in the world of doing. I was outside the mail, and for a long way the only passenger. We learned at Newmarket, that the coachman, who drove the coach, which was overturned the preceding night, lay very much hurt. His viscera are bruised, and his only chance of life is in cool veins well emptied by the lancet. 'Tis right that he on whose care the safety of others depends should be most prominently exposed to the danger of ill conduct or neglect; I wish heartily that this liability could be transferred from those who sit on the coach box, to those who sit in the cabinet and hold the reins of the hard driven state! we should then have had more peace and less taxes. Ask Mr. Samuel Cooper [a great liberal and brother of my father] if we should not? At Chesterford your friend, Mr. Smith, the representative for Norwich, took the mail; and after a nap, talked very unrestrainedly with me on the present state of France, on Buonaparte, the criminal law, and the wisdom of the Justices at sessions. I was determined--like Horace's whetstone, which can sharpen other things, though blunt itself, to put an edge on him--to say something deep and decisive on some of the subjects, but I got nothing from him but working-day talk. Perhaps (like the character with the Greek name in the _Rambler_, who tells his guest, showing him his fine things, that they were only brought into service when persons of consequence visited him) he disdained to pull out his best to me, yet I rather judge that he is only clever to the party at Norwich; and as Oberon, though but six inches high, is yet tall for a fairy, he is a great Apollo to the blue and whites [the colours of the liberal party at Norwich]. For corroboration of any opinion of theirs, I should always, like the Recorder of London, think it right to ask the cook. There's my letter, a type of the miracle of the creation and the lie to the great Epicurean maxim, that 'Nothing can be made out of nothing;' for as one of those, that, as the song runs, 'None can love like, ' would exclaim, 'by Jasus, I had not a word to say, and yet I have spoke three whole pages!' My duty to my father, and if you please, my best regards to Mrs. Watson [my mother's sister], on condition she has no more hysterics; and that is, as she pleases, more than perhaps she is aware of. She is not naturally melancholy, and may soon accustom her mind to like hope better than remembrance. My best love to Harriet [his sister], I should, as I promised her, have written to her if I had not written to you, but one letter will serve both; pray assure her how grateful I am to her for all her anxious care and attention to me; I will not even allow that Charles [his eldest brother, who was then the secretary to Sir James Cockburn at Bermudas] loves her more than I, or esteems her more, or will be more glad (as I told him in my letter) than I was to see that she was better in health than she had been for years; 'twill make him happy indeed, for the possibility of losing her is alarming to him, and if she were to die, he would be most inconsolable; yet his grief would not be more than mine, nor would he be more ready to exclaim, -- 'I, nunc; et, numina non posse nega' which, as you are a lady, I translate for you, 'go now and say, that angels cannot die. ' But you must not read this to her, for she will absurdly say 'tis flattery, as if I could have any motive to flatter her. My love to Will [meaning myself]. He is so much improved as to be an engaging boy, and I begin to like him very much. I am, dear Madam, Yours very faithfully, HENRY COOPER. P. S. --If Mr. Boardman [an old friend of his] should call, pray remember me most particularly to him. He has long behaved to me with the affection of a brother. He has even, in no few instances, preferred my interests to his own. I am most deeply obliged to him, and I like to tell people of it. " The next letter bears date, -- _London_, 31_st_ _Dec. _ 1815. To the same, -- "I send you the only coin I have, my very warm thanks for one of the finest and best turkeys that entered the metropolis to be devoured in celebration and honour of Christmas. A Christian of the utmost degree of faith, that is as great as you ladies place in physicians, who devoured with a devout and religious pique, could not have eaten more or with more pleasure than I, though I sat down with no other zeal than an hungry appetite, and little better than a mere heathen stomach. When I reflected that you good people at Norwich were rioting on just such a dinner (upon my honour), I could not help blushing for your preposterous consciences, that, could expect to enjoy so much pleasure in this world, and be saved in the next too. 'Tis well for me that no one offered to bet with me, that the pheasants did not come from you; but, I pray, do not think of returning me the thanks, which I paid for them. They are all due, and a vast sum more on the old account, though you, like a liberal creditor, may have no idea of urging the payment of the balance against me, and I beg they may be carried to it. I had almost forgotten to add Alfred's thanks to mine for the turkey [he was the youngest brother, who was an ensign in the 14th Foot, and had been wounded in the recent battle]. He was here in time, and made a dinner that contrasts rather vividly with his first meal after the battle of Waterloo, on a slice of old cow that they shot with their muskets, and tore to pieces, without giving themselves a moment's pause to reflect whether the Bramin's might not be the true religion. But I must not anticipate any part of his narrative to you, and Harriet, as to another Dido and Anna, of all he has seen, done, and suffered, throughout which he has been, like the French poets (Grissets) famous parrot, _quite as unfortunate_ as AEneas, and a great deal more pious. In other respects, indeed, you'll not find him like that bird; he'll not give you his adventures with the gratuitous loquacity of poor Poll. In this he'd rather resemble the bullfinch; you must give out the tune to him, and chirrup with questions to him before he will pipe his strain to you; and when I consider the vast difficulty which the natural taciturnity of you ladies places you under of asking questions, I feel for your curiosity in its tight stays excessively. On this occasion, perhaps, where the motive is so strong, you will break through your native restraint; and, therefore, I advise you to have your interrogatories ready by the 8th of January, 1816, when Alfred, who means to accompany me, will be in Norwich. I am very grateful to you for your benevolent wishes of prosperity and happiness to me, but they fall on a heart dead to expectation. I have been so long in obscurity, that hope has quite left off visiting me; the best years of my life are gone; and what is my condition? Depressed spirits, and ill health; and the way as far as I can see before me, no better, nay worse than the lengths behind. What right have I to hope? The ring and the lamp of the Arabian tales must cease to be fiction, before I can have any chance of good fortune. But I do not call for pity. If I have not learned to be skilful in parrying and eluding the blows of Adversity, from experience, I am at heart somewhat hardened by long subjection, and habituation to them; and, if I have not the soothing of Hope, I am not altogether without the consolation of Philosophy. The happy must substract from his happiness the frequent reflection, which comes like a cloud over him, that death will snatch him from all his blessings. The wretched finds relief in the certainty that death will end his misery; therefore, that state is not very enviable, nor this intolerable. Both will soon, very soon be past, and small, indeed, is the difference between past pleasure and past pain. Be assured, madam, that I, in return, as warmly wish you prosperity and happiness; I wish not only that the approaching, but many succeeding years, may have both hands full of plenty and delight for you; and I trust that it is not so unreasonable in you to believe, that future events may give a character of prophecy to my present wishes, as it would be in me to expect the fulfilment of yours. Pray, have the goodness to tell my father, that the vol. Of Pickering, from Priestleys, is procured, and that the copy of the Manuel Libraire, at Longman's is still to be sold at four guineas. Pray, make my thanks to him for letting me know the day of the sessions at Norwich; I shall be present to help to do the nothing there. I suppose he knows that the Corporation of Yarmouth have elected Mr. W---, to the stewardship. I hear him say 'How stupid of them to elect that fellow. ' I beg his pardon; it shewed exquisite judgment; and yet, after all, there was somewhat of a felicity in it. They thought it would be deserting propriety to have a man in the lower office of steward of higher understanding than their Recorder. Now, under all the fleecy cloud of wigs that lowers in the court of King's Bench, they could not have found a second rate head to A---s, but that of W--- d, and nothing but 'a lucky hit of nature' that mended her design when she was determined to make as thick a skull as she had ever yet turned out of her hands, could have given existence even to this instance of inferiority. He says he was quite ignorant of their intention of the honour that has been done him. If this be not affectation, I can imagine nothing with which to compare or illustrate his surprise, except that which must have come over the onion, when it discovered that the Egyptians had made a God of it. I am wrong: surprise is the effect of perception and he has none; his is like the genuine night, that admits no ray, and in his very stupidity he is involved from the least glimmering of consciousness of it. Pray, lessen the anxiety of Harriet, which an unmerited affection for me betrays her into, by telling her that I am getting better, and excuse the want of turn to the conclusion of my letter in the want of paper; and allow me abruptly to assure you that, I am, dear Madam, Yours most faithfully, HENRY COOPER. " The following letter, the reader must think very piquant and graphic, andit will, probably, tend to throw a new light upon his preconceivedopinions and estimation of a certain great man. He must remember, too, whilst reading it, that Admiral Sir George Cockburn had the command ofthe ship which conveyed Napoleon and his suite to St. Helena. This letter is dated, _London_, 14 _Oct. _ 1816. To the same, -- "I am very much obliged to you for your excellent and most welcome present [it is below the dignity of the Epopee to say goose and sausages] which reached me on Sunday, and the note which you were so kind as to send with it, I can only repay you in this the old paper of unproductive thanks, but the sincerity of them will be held in some estimation by the mind actuated by the kindness that has excited them, and, therefore, flimsy as they are, I venture to beg your acceptance of them. I have nothing new, Madam, to send you for your entertainment from this great city. That the Regent is going to divorce the Princess of Wales, and excite the hope of the husbands and the fear of the wives--that under such an example, all the legal restraints to repudiation will be removed, and the practice become wide, and quite fashionable; you have, of course, heard long ago from the newspapers, they are eternally depriving us by anticipation of the power of writing agreeable and interesting letters to the Ladies in the country. Sir James Cockburn arrived in town last Saturday from Bermudas. He is quite well, and neither seems nor believes himself an hour older for having been three years at Bermudas, since he was last in England. I have been much with him and his brother, the Admiral, lately. I have not (for your sex has not ALL the curiosity, though all of a peculiar kind) omitted to ply him with questions about Buonaparte. He is now admirably qualified to be Emperor in that country of which I have read, where they elect the fattest man in the state to the Empire. His legs are as bulky as my body, the ribs in proportion; and since this girth is all attained in little more than five-feet five-inches of length, he is not what Miss Cruso or Miss Godfrey [the head milliners of Norwich at the time] would call a very genteel figure. He eats with voraciousness of the most luxurious dishes; he has, in Cockburn's opinion, a very mean assemblage of features with something fearfully black and vicious about the brows and eyes. His manners are coarse and repulsive. Did you ever in a litter yard come suddenly on a lady in the straw that starts up on her fore legs and, dropping fourteen infant pigs from her teats, salutes you with a fierce jumble of barking, grunting, and hissing? In exactly such a sound is this amiable man represented to me to have always replied to every address of Bertrand, Mouthoulon, and the others, who are his fools and followers to St. Helena. Sometimes he neglected all restraint on his nature, and gave the same ferocious and inarticulate answers to the English officers. He played chess so badly, that Bertrand and Mouthoulon, who had too much discretion to excel their patron, had, at times, great difficulty to lose the game to him; after trying for many nights he could not attain the rudiments of whist, and went back to vingt-un; but this is the man who has been described to us all as ALL- INTELLECT. The newspapers, too, said I remember, that at whist he left all instruction behind him, and soon played so well, that he had won very large sums of the Admiral by his superior play, even while he was only a Tyro. I can tell you no more now; but the Admiral has had the goodness to lend me a journal of his conversation with Buonaparte on the passage out, and when I have the pleasure of seeing you in the sessions week, I will give you some extracts from my memory. I am, I believe, a little better, but the disorder in the upper part of my stomach still continues and oppresses me. It is now inveterate, the complaint commenced last March, a twelvemonth past. If I cannot rid myself of it, it will kill me in time. My best duty to my father, love to William and 'aliis, ' I am, dear Madam, Yours very faithfully, HENRY COOPER. P. S. --I write in a great hurry for I am making up my parcel for Bermudas. I should not write to you at all, but I do not like so long to delay my due thanks to your kindness. " This letter is dated, 2, _Lamb's Buildings_, 27_th_ _January_, 1817. To the same, -- I am scarcely warm in my place in London before I have to thank you for your present to me; you hardly give me time, in the short intervals of these marks of your kindness to me, to frame my thanks to you for each. I have exhausted all my common-place forms and am forced to rack my invention (so very often have you come forward with these welcome claims on me) to give anything like a turn to the expression in which to convey my thanks. Mr. Pope (in those rhymes for the nursery which he has entitled the Universal Prayer) calls enjoyment obedience: now if enjoyment be thankfulness, too, then never was a being more completely thanked than yourself; for the ducks were devoured with the most devout gust and appetite; they were the most superb fowls that ever suffered martyrdom of their lives to delight the palate and appease the hunger of the Lords of the creation. You should have sent them to some imitator of the Dutch school, who could have painted them before he ate them; the hare, too, is as good as it can be, and you are agreeably thanked for it by an equal portion of enjoyment. I must beg you to excuse a very short, dull, and hasty letter, from me. If I were not impatient at the thought of letting any longer time elapse without expressing my lively sense of your frequent mark of kind consideration of me, I should not write at all to day. I have something to do at my chambers, and in ten minutes I must run down to Westminster Hall; and whilst I am thus engaged, I am as much disqualified for writing, by a dark fit of low spirits, as prevented by want of leisure. I resist as much as I can these attacks of the night-mare by day, but I cannot wholly succeed against them; my circumstances may possibly change, and, if not, such gloominess is unreasonable; if Fortune is never weary of persecuting me, I shall at last be past the sense of her persecutions. In the meantime, whatever is the colour of my life, I shall, if I can, continue to hope the future cannot be the worse, and the present will be the more tolerable for it. I shall, therefore, cling to her while I live, and to apply a beautiful thought of Tibullus-- 'Dying, clasp her with my failing hand. ' In endeavouring to recollect me of the many fine things that have been said of hope to crown my declaration of attachment to that first place of our lives, I remember Cowley has observed 'that it is as much destroyed by the possession of its object as by exclusion from it. ' This is very ingenious and very true, and though not to the purpose for which I was seeking it yet will very well serve another. I wish my dear Madam, very sincerely, that the former mode of destruction may speedily befall all your present hopes, and that in future you will be surrounded by so many blessings as will leave you no room for the exercise of any hope but their continuance, My duty to my father, and my love to William, I trust that he improves in Latin; pray tell him that I was vexed not to find him so good a scholar in that language as I expected; when I next see him I hope my expectations will be exceeded. I am, my dear Madam, Yours very truly, HENRY COOPER. " The following letter I have previously made reference to. It is written, evidently, in despondency, and heartfelt sorrow, under the shock of thefrightful calamity. It relates to the disastrous death of poor Alfred, his youngest brother. It is dated from, and bears date 2, _Elm Court_, _Temple_, 25_th_ _June_, 1822. To the same, -- I received your letter yesterday, but I was so ill (that important as the occasion is) I could not answer it. To-day, nothing less than the urgency of the subject could prevail upon me to make the smallest exertion, for I am scarcely able to drag one limb up to the other. I have a violent catarrh, the glands of my throat are further inflamed and ulcerated, and I am burning with fever. With regard to divulging to Harriet the disastrous event, for which, when once known to her, she can never be consoled; I am in a very unfit state to give advice. I am as I have always been of opinion, that it should be concealed from her as long as it can. It is a more generous cause of grief than the loss of a lover; and as Harriet's mind is built, I think more likely to shock and destroy her. You state only one reason for breaking the secrecy which has hitherto been observed--that it appears strange, the event public, that you are not in mourning for it. I cannot but think that if any good can reasonably be expected from withholding the knowledge of this dreadful incident, it would be wrong and trifling to forego it, for the senseless custom of putting yourself in black for a few months. I have no crape about me. If any one were to ask the cause of my disregard of a paltry decorum, I should either turn on my heel from him, or explain to him that I did not put on the mockery of sorrow, lest it should get to my sister's ear; that I was in outward mourning, and she had to be discovering for whom. It is, surely, easy for you to say that you do not put on black for the same reason, to all who may enquire, or to all those to whom you wish to appear decorous. [He then writes on family matters, but, after a few lines, again recurs to the painful subject of his letter. ] It is known to several with whom I am acquainted in London; but, it is easy, as Harriet restricts herself to a very narrow intercourse, to keep it still from her knowledge, till she has recovered strength of body to contend anew with severe and heavy affliction. How much I have suffered from the intelligence I shall not attempt to describe to you. I had but little interest in life before; it is now heavy and sickening to me. I feel as if I never should smile again; every circumstance of aggravation attends it. To perish on the verge of the shore, when he was just about to embark, after six years in the climate, when we thought the danger past. With letters from him full of felicitation of himself, and rapture at the hope of soon meeting us again, and when we were expecting him every moment in our embrace, to be struck cold to the heart with the news that we should never see him again. I owe little to man--I shall soon owe nothing to any other being. I hate the cant of the doctrine of Providence 'your brother may be snatched by a merciful power from impending evil. ' Bah! why not the merciful being continue life to my brother, and destroy the impending evil? Well, I shall soon be as he is, and though there is no consolation in that feeling, it is some assuagement of grief, because sorrow will then be at an end. My duty to my father. I write in great pain. I am, dear Madam, Yours very truly, HENRY COOPER. " The following makes the last of the letters I possess, and is written sixmonths previous to his death; and in answer to a letter, of my mother tohim, respecting the appointment of a paid chairman, and he, a barristerof some standing, to preside at Quarter Sessions, and to have besides (ifmy recollection be correct) some civil power. This was then in thecontemplation of the Ministry; and as the poet says "coming events casttheir shadows before" evidently the shadow of the present county courts. The letter is dated from and bears date, 5, Hare Court, Temple. 6th March, 1824. To the same, -- "I did not return to Town till Sunday morning, when I found your letter at my chambers. I hope you will accept, as a sufficient excuse, the extreme fatigue and languor which I felt all yesterday for not answering it immediately. I lament exceedingly, that my father should not have been early enough in his application to the Lieutenant of the County, in whose gift, by the frame of the bill, the appointment is placed, and in whose hand, I fear, by the act itself it will remain. I cannot conjecture to whom it has been promised by Col. Wodehouse. To Alderson is not at all probable, from the part he has taken against the Wodehouse's, who are the most bigoted and relentless Tories in existence. To Preston [another provincial barrister in Norwich, and the late Jermy, who was shot by Rush], ought not to be probable, because he is not competent either in law or common sense to fill the office; and the favour to him would be an injury to the public. My father has every claim to it, and I think that it would have been no more than what was due from Col. Wodehouse, both to the county and my father, to offer it to him before he promised it to another. I wish you might be right in your surmise, that the patronage will be placed in another quarter; but, of that there is the faintest chance, I should advise you to press my father to exert himself to procure the appointment, as it will be an office of the most agreeable kind, affording considerable profit at very little trouble. I, myself, know not a soul in the world who could influence any one of the present government: and any enquiries or attempt by me would have, in all probability, an adverse operation. I am of no importance whatever to any party, but my opinions, humble and insignificant as they are, have been noticed and recorded; and I am down in the black book for persecution, rather than in the red for favour. Of little note and importance as I am, such is the consciousness, in their own infirmity, in those who rule us, that the very lowest who have denounced their system, are objects of their hatred, for they are the objects of their fear; and those who have put them to the pain of apprehension, are marks for their revenge. I should think that the best course that my father could take would be to apply to Mr. John Harvey, to induce his brother, Onley Harvey, Esq. (a brother barrister of my father too), to ask it of the Home Department; if he asked it (supposing the gift to be there), I think, without doubt it would be given. [The rest of the letter relates to family matters, and concludes my love to William. He attributes too much honour to me by looking to me with any admiration. ] My duty to my father. I am, dear Madam, Yours very truly, HENRY COOPER. " My task is all but accomplished. I have but now to lay before the readerthe promised verses; those on Buonaparte are characteristic of thewriter, who, with his high intellectual powers, possessed to the last, anoble and independent spirit, which despised even the appearance ofservility. I shall then add the notices that appeared in the _MorningChronicle_, and _Gentleman's Magazine_, soon after his decease, whichclearly show that He, whose death they record, was no common person; as, also, the high estimation he was held in by the profession, to which hewas an honour; and by the public who admired him for his eloquence, andprized him for his independence of character. In the sketches I havegiven of the two lives, which were, of necessity intermingled, --it istrue, I have given but a rough outline of each, and my hope is they willportray the lineaments and character as effectually as a more lengthenedbiography; as I have seen, and often the character of a friend's facebetter given in a few mere outlines, than in the finished likeness. Inlooking at a small duodecimo edition I possess of Plutarch's lives, Iperceive that the lives of his greatest heroes and statesmen, arecomprised within a hundred pages, and yet how clearly does he portraytheir lives to the reader. He gives a few anecdotes of their youth, afew salient points of their character in manhood, and then concludes withtheir actions and their deaths; and leaves the rest to the imaginationand "the mind's eye;" and who, after, reading them, does not see clearlybefore him the man whose life has been so ably delineated? I mean not, by this, to compare myself for an instant, with that great writer; but, having, as I said before, such slender materials to deal with, I have, asfar as I was able, and after re-perusing the writer referred to, done mybest, with my small abilities to follow his example, and pursue hisarrangement; I can only hope I may have in part succeeded. After the notices referred to, I shall end by laying before the readerthe verses written on my brother, after his death, by my mother and Mr. Wing; and in the appendix I shall refer the reader to the life of Erskinebefore alluded to; as, also, to the trial of Mary Ann Carlile, which willshow, and clearly, the style of the eloquence of her advocate on theoccasion, combined as it is with powerful argument, and that clearnessand lucid order which were his forte. And now, reader, to use the wordsof Cicero, in concluding one of his epistles to a friend, "vale etvaleas. " "IN BONAMPARTEM. " He ne'er shall be extoll'd by me, Whom wealth and fortune raise to power;But he, alone who will be freeFrom sordid shame, or live no more. Let him with wreaths of song be crown'd, Who life, deflower'd of glory, spurn'd, And breaking from his kindred round, To Carthage and to death return'd. With him, who when his righteous hand, In vain the splendid blow had given, The tyrant, only chang'd, disdain'dThe light of unregarded Heaven. And Cato--thou, who tyrannyAll earth besides enslaved, withstood;And failing to high liberty, Pour'd fierce libation of thy blood. Oh, Godlike men! you leave no praiseFor him who to the king could bend, To add a few unhonor'd daysTo life, at latest--soon to end. Nor him self-raised to Gallia's throne, Who, rushing with his martial hordes, Cast Europe's ancient sceptres down, And made his slaves her sov'reign lords. For his was not the heart that dar'dWhen with the battle all was lost, Plunge in the whirlpool of the war, And share the slaughter of his host;Nor his, the indignant soul with braveAnd Roman arm, his life to shed;But still he sought by flight to saveHis outlaw'd and unlaurell'd head. With face to earth his vet'rans' layIn ruins all who bore his name;His mighty Empire past away, And blasted, as a Chief, his fame. Yet--yet--(so let him live) contentThe sentence of his foes he bore, Like a vile felon to be sentAn exile to a wretched shore. FROM THE PORTUGUESE. Where silver hairs no reverence meet, Where to the weary stranger's feet To cross the threshold 'tis denied. And at the genial board, her placeNo kerchief'd matron takes to grace Her savage husband's haughty side;Where Niger hides, or on the shoreOf dark and stormy Labrador. O Castres, --I with thee would rove, And, blest, thus wand'ring, if my mindCould leave her galling bonds behind; The bonds of an unworthy love. Not like a Gambian slave that fled(Of the pale Creole's lash in dread) From Rio, strives in fearful hasteThe mountain's woody side to gain;But with him drags the clinking chain, Lock'd at his waist or ancle fast. THE WOES OF THE RIVERS. "To each his suff'rings. "Heaps of dead Trojans were Scamander's bane, Dead dogs, dead cats, and dung-boats shame the Seine, Ten thousand shores and jakes the Thames defile, And gradual mud is working woe to Nile;Yet harder Duddon's fate, her hapless streamOf fifty strains by Wordsworth is the theme. * * * * * The following _jeu d'esprit_ was written on a certain nobleman, who, leaving the Whig party, of which up to that time he had been a strongadherent, and for the sake, it was supposed, of gaining the Regent'sfavour, not only voted, but took a strong part against the Queen. TO LORD L---. What caused you L---, to rush in, Through thick and thin, to give your Queen a splashingFor this your party, to the devil gave you, And yet the rav'nous Tories will not have you. So in that country (where with hopes you foolYour second infancy, you yet shall rule)A sect of devotees there is who tell yeThe way to heaven is through a fish's belly;And in the surges, on a certain day, They give themselves to rav'nous sharks a prey. Among the rest, an ancient beldame went, --Weak, wither'd, wrinkled, tawny, tough, and bent(Your very self in breeches she would be, Put on her petticoats, and you were she);She waded in the water to her haunches, Hoping the sharks would pass her through their paunches;But out of fifty, not a shark would have her, Tho' she implored them, as a special favour;They came and smelt, and did not like her savour, She threw their stomachs into such commotion, They would not even bear her in the ocean. But down they pushed her--roll'd her o'er and o'er, And shovel'd with their snouts again to shore;Alike your fate: to be by sharks abhorr'dWas her's, and your's by Minister's old _Lord_. * * * * * In the _Chronicle_ of September 27th, 1824, appeared the following noticeof my brother's death, headed:--"Death of Henry Cooper. --We regret tohave to announce the death of a gentleman warmly beloved by all who knewhim, Mr. Henry Cooper the barrister. He died on Sunday the 19th, at thecottage of his friend, Mr. Hill, of Chelsea, after a short illness whichbrought on an inflammation in his bowels that proved fatal; he wasinterred on Friday last. "Mr. Cooper had overcome the difficulties of his profession, and wasrising fast into eminence. He was already leader on the Norfolk circuit, and with his readiness, his powerful memory, and his forcible and fluentdelivery, the most distinguished success was universally anticipated forhim: his vein of pleasantry was particularly rich, as an instance we mayrefer to a case on the very last circuit in which a hairdresser ofNewmarket was one of the parties, and which he made irresistibly amusing. We appeal confidently to those of our readers who have attentivelyconsidered the signs of the times, if there was not much distrust of thebar about the period when Mr. Henry Cooper came into notice, and if hedid not by his exertions contribute greatly to remove it. "He had been sometime employed procuring materials for a life of LordErskine, with whom he was particularly intimate, which he had undertakento write; we suspect he had not made much progress in the work when deatherminated all his labour. " The next notice of his death is taken from the _Gentleman's Magazine_, from July to December, 1824; vol. 94, part 2. --"On the 19th of September, 1824, at Chelsea, Henry Cooper, barrister-at-law, in the vigour of lifeand with every prospect of reaching the highest honors in his profession. The death of this rising barrister has been recorded in page 381 [asabove]. He died of inflammation of the bowels, at the house of hisfriend, Mr. Hill, at Chelsea. His age was about thirty-eight or thirty-nine, and he had been about twelve years at the bar. He was the son of acounsel of eminence residing at Norwich. He went to sea with LordNelson, and was present at the battle of the Nile, but he early quittedthe naval profession for that of the law, though he retained much of thefrankness and gaiety of manner which distinguish seamen, and the activityand strength of frame which a seaman's habits create. He was afterwardsAttorney General of the Bermudas, at the time when one of the Cockburn'swas governor. On the appointment of the late Mr. Serjeant Blossett tothe Chief Justiceship of Bengal, Mr. Cooper, who was then rapidly risingon his circuit (the Norfolk) became one of the leaders; and at the twolast assizes, was in every cause. "He possessed great activity and versatility of mind; no one, accordingto the testimony of those who saw most of him, combined with a fluent andpowerful eloquence, a better judgment and nicer skill in conducting acause. But his best and highest forensic quality, and that which, combined with his talents, make the loss a national one, was his greatmoral and professional courage, his unshaken attachment to what heconsidered a good cause. No consideration ever warped him from his duty. He was proof not merely against those speculations on the best probablemeans of personal advancement which many men reject as well as he did, but against that desire of standing well with the judges, of getting theear of the judge, of obtaining the sympathy of men of professionalstanding, which it requires much more firmness to resist; there was noone on whom a defendant exposed to the enmity of government, or to thejudges, or to any prejudices, could rely with greater certainty; that hewould not be compromised or betrayed by his advocate. In a word, therewas no man less of a sycophant. He had a confidence that he could makehimself a name by his own merits, and he would have it. "But the fair guerdon when we hope to find, Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred shears And slits the thin spun life. " The following verses, soon after my brother's death, headed, "On thedeath of Henry Cooper, Esq. , " appeared in the provincial papers; theywere composed by my mother, and had not only the tacit consent of all, but the universal praise, and that openly expressed, for their spirit andtruthfulness which all felt, for all then knew and admired him theymourned. The pride of the Circuit is gone, The eloquent tongue is at rest; The spirit so active is flown, And still lies the quick heaving breast. The mind so gigantic and strong, Is vanish'd like vapour or breath; And the fire that shone in his eye, Is quenched by the cold hand of death. Yet a balm to his friends shall arise, That so soon he acquired a name; For he dropp'd like a star from the skies, Untarnished in lustre or fame. The following verses also, on the death of my brother, appeared in theprovincial papers, and were written by Frederic Wing, Esq. , attorney-at-law, residing at Bury St. Edmunds, Suffolk, and headed, "On the death ofthe late Henry Cooper. " "Ye friends of talent, genius, hither come, And bend with fond regret o'er Cooper's tomb; Closed are those lips, and pow'rless that tongue, On whose swift accents you've delighted hung. Cold is that heart, --unthinking now, the brain, But late the seat of thought's mysterious train, For by the stern, relentless hand of death, Is stopt the inspiring, animating breath: And he whose powers of rhetoric all could charm, Fail'd to arrest the Tyrant's conquering arm. Cooper, --Farewell!-- Transient, yet splendid, was thy short career, Unfading laurels twine thy early bier. To mourn thy exit, how can we refrain, For seldom shall we see thy like again! Who, to deep learning, and the soundest sense, Join'd the rare gift of matchless eloquence. Thy wit most keen, thy penetration clear, Thy satire poignant, made corruption fear. And such thy knowledge of the human heart, So prompt to see, and to unmask each art. Oppression shrunk abash'd, while innocence Call'd thee her champion--her sure defence. Once more, farewell, long shall thy name be dear, And oft shall Independence drop a tear Of grateful memory o'er departed worth, And selfish, wish thee back again to earth. To abide the important issue of that cause, Fix'd not by mortal, but celestial laws, Thou'rt summon'd hence, may'st thou not plead in vain, But from our Heavenly Judge acceptance gain, And sure admittance to those courts on high, Where term and time are lost in blest eternity. APPENDIX. THE LIFE OF LORD ERSKINE. AS COMMENCED BY MY BROTHER Thomas Erskine, the only advocate, and, almost, the only orator, whosespeeches are likely to survive the interest of the occasion that gavethem birth in a country, where forensic litigation abounds, and politicalinstitutions render the study and exercise of eloquence important andnecessary, was born on the in --- the year 175, at ---, in Scotland; hewas the third son of the Earl of Buchan, by ---. This family is ancient, and connects, with its pedigree, the sovereigns, both of Scotland andEngland, related to the former. The marriage of the daughter of Jamesthe First with the Palatine, mixed his line with the descendants, and, consequently, united him with the family that now reigns in England. Hethus brought with him to the profession of the bar, the advantage of allthe prejudice in favour of illustrious descents, and found easier wayyielded to his powerful talents by the diminution of envy which attendedit. Of his very early years, I am unable to supply the public with anyinformation, and I regret it, --not that any very important lesson ofutility can be derived from the anecdotes of childhood, but they areamusing, and amusing without harm; and I agree with Dr. West that he hasa very imperfect knowledge of human nature who is not convinced, that ina state of refined society, it is impossible to amuse innocently. Allthat I have been able to learn distinctly, is, that the most playfulvivacity, and the same good humour, which ever after accompanied him evenin the keenest rivalry of the bar, displayed itself in his words andactions, and made him the delight of all, but those who morose andsplenetic, from their own disgust of existence, conceive offence atothers for that enjoyment of the present, which can only subsist uponignorance, and the hope of the future that MUST BE disappointed. To thisvivacity, he, perhaps, owed as much as to those endowments, which aredeemed more solid qualifications for the bar. It imparted itself to hiseye, his mouth, his tone, and his action, and held his hearers engaged, when his periods were such as pronounced by an ordinary speaker, wouldnot have preserved the audience from that listnessness, which isinstantly seen and felt by the speaker, and soon adds embarrassment andconfusion to feebleness. In private society, to the last months of hisexistence, it gave him rather the air of a youth inexperienced in therealities of life, and entering it under the ardour of hope, than of aman who had almost reached the limits of human existence, in the exerciseof a profession, which lays the human breast naked to inspection. It wassaid of Pope, from his primitive habits of reflection and gravity, thathe was never young; and, on the contrary, it may be said with equaljustice, from the playfulness and vivacity of Erskine, that he was neverold. At the age of he entered the navy as a midshipman, and served inthe ---, commanded by Captain ---, in America. While in this station hewas employed in making a survey under one of the lieutenants of the ship, off the coast of Florida. He had some acquaintance with geometry; and, as he tells us himself in his "Armata, " always retained a fondness forthat science. Whether this fondness grew in acquiring the knowledge ofnavigation, indispensable to his profession, or subsequently at theuniversity in which it forms so much the greater part of education, I amignorant; but that he was versed to a degree both in geometry andastronomy, is evident, from the work I have named, and some pieces of hispoetry, which I have had access to. The cause that led him to leave thenavy and enter the army is unknown; it is most likely to have beendisgust and impatience of the subordination, which in our fleets is rigidin the extreme, and never softened by that alternation of socialintercourse, at a common table at which in the army, all the officers ofthe regiment meet daily, and from which they rise with a feeling, notonly that insulting and overbearing command upon duty would be aviolation of an implied pledge of kindness, but injury to themselves, asdiminishing in the gloom that would spread over their next meeting, thecommon stock of enjoyment. The condition of our naval service is, insome respects, improved since Erskine was a member of it; but then allknowledge beyond that of the conduct of a ship, was deemed unnecessary, impertinent, and even adverse to the attainment of nautical skill. Theintercourse of the officers even on the shore, was confined almostentirely to one another, for not to speak of the uncouthness of theirhabits, which made them as incapable of mingling in society on land, asthe beings of their element on which their avocation lay, are of livingin the air, their language was technical to a degree that rendered it toall, except themselves, almost unintelligible. With such persons forcompanions, and to use Terence's expression, quotidian and tedioussameness of a life at sea, we need look no further for Erskine's desireto change his profession. When we consider the great capacity which hepossessed for observation, and his extraordinary power of combining theknowledge that he so acquired, the period which he gave to the navalservice must have been, to a spirit so active, a period of painfulconstraints. I remember that in a conversation upon Lord Erskine, withMr. Capel Loft, after enumerating the many great causes in which thegreat advocate had been engaged, he exclaimed, "what an infinitemultitude of ideas must have passed through that man's mind. " The remarkis not an empty one; I doubt whether there ever was a man who exercisedthe faculty of reasoning more, who drew a greater number of distinctconclusions, or whose materials of thought were more the collection andproperty of his own observation. Cicero, in his speech for Archias, appeals to the judges whether he could possibly supply the demands uponhim for daily exertions of eloquence, unless he assidiously refreshed hismind with studies, in which he was assisted by Archias and otherrhetoricians, and that he read copiously is manifested in all his works. The accomplished academician, the able balancer of the different schoolsof philosophy and morals, and the studied Rhetor is obtruded upon us. Hewas, in every sense of the term, learned; Erskine, on the contrary, cannot be discovered by any of his speeches, or writings, to have readmuch, and most probably had read very little. He was in no sense of theword learned. He has, indeed by acuteness of observation, vigour ofcombination, and the ready power of deduction that he possessed, beenable to produce and leave behind him what will become the learning ofothers, but he was not learned himself. His qualities, from his earliestyears were quickness and acuteness, unchecked and insatiable curiosity, retentive memory, and busy reflection; his mind was never still. In thecoffee-room he conversed and indulged in humour with all round him. However important or heavy the causes which were to occupy him in court, they never oppressed his mind with a load of anxiety; his was not likeordinary minds under great affairs, so absorbed that he could perceivenothing round him; his, till the hour of solemn exertion arrived, wasdisengaged and indulged in pleasantry; after the toil of the day, thepassion of eloquence and the intensity of technical argument, he was fullof spirits and waggery at dinner and in the evening. And light as histopics sometimes were, his thoughts were always distinct, and hisexpressions full; you never from him heard any imperfect thoughtsexpressed, that (like tadpoles, before they are complete, must go throughother processes of animation) required the exertion of your ownconceptions to attain their sense and spirit. The activity of his mindwas like that of the swallow, which either in sport or pursuit is uponthe wing for ever. With this character it may readily be believed thatyoung Erskine received his discharge with feelings like those that attendthe cessation of a long and painful disease from a state which called forno exercise of his great talents, and, neither yielded scope for thecommunication of his own attainments nor opportunity to increase themfrom the communications of others. He became an ensign of the Royals and married not long after. He wassent with his corps to the Mediterranean, and stationed either with hisregiment or a detachment of his regiment, at Minorca; there, under theinfluence of an ardent feeling of religion, which he owed to the anxiousinculcations of his mother, from whom he received the rudiments ofeducation, he is said in the absence of the chaplain, to have composedmore than one sermon, and to have delivered them to the assembledofficers and privates of his regiment. It never occurred to me to askhim whether there was truth in this report; but he has frequently talkedto me of anecdotes which were circulated of him, some of which heconfirmed while he contradicted others, and never spoke of this asunfounded; from my knowledge of his character it is highly probable, andI believe it is true. About three years ago he was at Tunbridge Wellswith Mr. Coutts, and while there, pointed out to a friend of mine abuilding, and said, "There, when it was a public room, I preached asermon of my own composition to the company;" this was for a wager. Hereturned to England in 17-- with his regiment, the father of threechildren. The anxiety of his mother, whose affections and care for herfamily rendered her most estimable, and have endeared her memory to herdescendants, was excited by Thomas, who had nothing but his pay for thesupport of his wife and his children, likely soon to become morenumerous. Her prudence suggested to her another profession for him bythe gains of which he might avoid the destitution which she saw hangingover his head. With this design, she sent for Mr. Adam, the barrister(now the Commissioner of the Scotch jury courts), that she might receivethe assistance of his experience and advice. On his arrival she said, "My son Tom has been thoughtless enough to marry a woman without fortune, and she has brought him a family which he cannot support himself, nor Ifor him, --what is to be done? And I have been thinking that he must sellhis commission, go to the bar, and be Lord Chancellor. " It isinteresting to reflect, that while this excellent woman was endeavouringto conceal the bitterness of an affectionate mother's anguish for herson's imprudence, she was unconsciously pronouncing a prophecy. Nor willit be less to see how trifling an event would have prevented itsaccomplishment; Mr. Adam told her that there were a great many steps fromthe entrance of the profession and the very high rank which she purposed, many of which he should be happy to congratulate her son on attaining. The conference proceeded, the obstacles to success at the bar wereweighed against the certainty of domestic calamities if he remained inhis present profession, and they parted, both of opinion, that in thedirection of the bar, Thomas Erskine was most likely to leave behind hispresent embarrassment and reach prosperity. It remained, however, toprocure the consent of her son; that was not easy: he had no predilectionfor the bar, and was attached to the army, and his regiment, to theofficers of which his sprightly and amiable manners had endeared him, andin which he was soliciting promotion and expecting it. At last, however, his conditional consent was drawn from him. He agreed to let his motherdispose of him as she wished, if he should be unsuccessful in hisapplication for the vacant captaincy in the Royals. This was far fromsatisfying his mother, but he was peremptory, and she could not inducehim to more positive terms; thus, if Erskine could have gained the rankof captain in the Royals, the destination of which was, then, an Americancolony, by which he might have gained the privilege of being scalped bythe savages, or perishing in the swamps or forests of North America, thecountry would never have known that splendid eloquence, which is itsboast and its pride; Tooke, Thelwall, Hardy, and the rest of thoseunfortunate men who were held so long under the terror of death, wouldprobably have been hanged, and the country oppressed by a gloomyprecedent of constructive treason, under which no man who has raisedhimself in opposition to a corrupt and sinister government could havebeen safe; one is inclined to shudder, like a man whom a shot has missedonly by the breadth of a hair, in contemplating how near so much dangerwas incurred, and so much benefit lost. But it is not on the magnitude, but continuity of the chain, that great results depend; on examining thepast, we shall find that as small a link struck out at one point or otherof succession, would have disappointed the most important events ofhistory. Happily for Erskine and his country, his claims from the meritof his services were eluded, and though he was more urgent in hisapplications, since the alternative was to be the bar, he was refusedpromotion. There was a singular coincidence in the fortune of the lateLord Chatham and Erskine: the former was sent into parliament and driveninto violent opposition to Sir Robert Walpole, because that minister haddeprived him of a company of horse, and dismissed him the service, an actof which the minister had reason to repent. He was like the emblem ofenvy with the recoiled dart in his own bosom; except Charles I. , whostopped Hampden and Cromwell from embarking upon the Thames to followliberty into the wilderness of America, no man had ever so much reason tocurse himself for his own acts. In the same manner a slight of Erskine'sclaims to promotion sent him to display an eloquence that had never yetbeen heard at the English bar. His fame as an advocate, drew the noticeof the Whig party on him; he was enlisted in their ranks and added animportance to the opposition, which not unfrequently increased theembarrassment of the minister. While he was held in suspense by thosewho had the disposal of commissions, he was quartered at Maidstone, andentering the court during the assizes there, was placed in his militaryuniform upon the bench, beside the great Lord Mansfield, to whom he wasdistantly related, and who at intervals of business, conversed with himon the proposed change of arms for the gown. This was another of theaccidents which, by minds of a certain frame would be regarded as anomen. After relating this anecdote, he added, "Only four years from thattime, I was at the place in the lead of that very circuit. " All hishopes of promotion at an end, the commission so unequal to the demandsfor subsistance upon it, was disposed of, and he was at once entered astudent of the Law Society of Lincoln's Inn, and a Commoner at ---College, Cambridge * * * * * A few days before he was called to the bar, a friend came and invited himto accompany him to dine at the villa of a wine merchant, a few milesfrom London. The allurements were a good dinner, and wine not to beprocured but by a dealer, who could cull his own stock from thousands ofpipes, and they were not to be resisted by a young man fond of pleasure, to whom such luxuries must come gratuitously, if they come at all. Economy, which was important to Erskine, was not quite beneath the regardof his friend, and after many proposals of several modes of conveyance, which were all rejected, either for their expense, or their humbleness, they agreed to walk; I have heard playful exertions of the mind or bodyattributed to what was denominated an excessive flow of animal spirits, aphrase that sounds significantly in the ear, but gives no information tothe understanding. Those who use it, mean, I suppose, to express thatwhen the body has received more nutriment than is necessary to promoteits growth, or maintain it the redundancy is thrown off in almostinvoluntary exertions of the limbs or of mind. If this physiology bejust, Erskine had an extraordinary surplus of supply, --that regulardischarge like the back water of a mill, and it found vent in variousgambols and effusions of humour on the way to the wine merchant's. WhileErskine, buoyed by high health and ardent hope, scarcely felt the groundthat he trod, the sight of a ditch by the side of the road, tempted himto exercise his agility. The impulse, and obedience to the impulse, werethe same. He made the attempt, but the ditch was too wide for hisspring, and he leaped a little short of the opposite bank. His dressabove was splashed with foul water, and his legs booted in mud. Nothingwas to be done on his part but to return, and his companion with akindness that does him honour, would have returned with him, but this, Erskine was too generous to allow; and while his friend continued hisjourney to the wine merchant's house and sumptuous dinner, Erskinesolitary and in pain (for he had severely sprained his leg) returned totown; on reaching his lodgings Mrs. Erskine proposed a change of dress, and urged him yet to go to dinner at the wine merchant's. He objectedhis lameness from the sprain, which she answered by proposing a coach andthe expense, which he hinted, was not to be weighed against the benefithe might derive from the friends which his manners and spirits werelikely to make him in the mixed and numerous company he would meet there. This was a consideration so important to a young man on the verge of thebar, that Erskine's disinclination was overcome by these reasonings ofhis wife. A coach was procured, and he again set out, but he did notarrive till dinner was half over, and found himself placed by thisaccident by the side of Captain Bailey, of Greenwich Hospital. With themodesty which is always united with true genius, Lord Erskine alwaysspoke of this event as the greatest instance of good fortune which everbefel him. But for this, he said to me, "I might have waited years foran opportunity to show that I had any talent for the bar; and when itoccurred I should not have pleaded with such effect, depressed andmortified as I might have been by long expectation, and its attendantevils, instead of seizing it with all the energy and confidence of youthelated with hope. " I record this to show how little he was actuated byarrogance or presumption; I by no means assent to his opinion, on thecontrary, I think he would have waited a very short time for occasion toexert his prominent talents. He slipt from high ground into theprofession. His rank would have drawn notice upon him, and he hadfriends full of eagerness, and not altogether without power. No more isthe partiality which, it is said, was manifestly shown him by LordMansfield, to be deemed a main cause of his success. On the contrary Iam so little inclined to attribute such an effect to it, that I believeeven the hostility of the bench could not have kept Erskine from rising. His mind was not of the ordinary mould, --he was excited by obstacles. Such was his temperament, that the damp slight of discouragement whichwould have quenched common spirits, by the ardour of his mind would havebeen converted into fuel, and have increased the splendour with which heburst forth at once at the English bar. How was the delay ofopportunity, or the frown of the judge to suppress the eloquence whosefirst essay excelled, both in matter and delivery, the latest efforts ofthe most experienced speakers in our courts? when he rose Dunning, Bearcroft, Wallace and others, were in the height of their reputation asspeakers in Westminster Hall. They were even eloquent, according to thejudgment of the day gazed at as the luminaries of the profession; but, brilliant as they were, they were combust in the splendour of Erskine, onhis first appearance as an orator. This considered, it is in vain topretend, that, but for favourable conjunctions which have happened to himand not to others, the prosperous and devious career on which heimmediately entered, could have been prevented or even longdelayed. --[Alas, no more!] BRIDGE STREET BANDITTI, _v. _ THE PRESS. REPORT OF THE TRIALOFMARY-ANNE CARLILE, FOR PUBLISHING A NEW YEAR'S ADDRESSTO THEREFORMERS OF GREAT BRITAIN;WRITTEN BYRICHARD CARLILE;AT THE INSTANCE OF THE CONSTITUTIONAL ASSOCIATION:BEFOREMR. JUSTICE BEST, AND A SPECIAL JURY, AT THE_Court of King's Bench_, _Guildhall_, _London_, _July_ 24, 1821. WITH THE NOBLE AND EFFECTUAL SPEECH OFMR. COOPER, IN DEFENCE, AT LARGE. LONDON:PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY R. CARLILE, 55, FLEET STREET. 1821. DEDICATION. TOHENRY COOPER, ESQ. , BARRISTER AT LAW; For the noble stand and more noble attitude which he took on thistrial--for the very eloquent, very bold, and very honest style of hisdefence--and, above all, for the manly resistance which he made to, andthe contempt which he showed for, the menacing frowns of those personswho conducted, advocated, and supported this prosecution: and to thoseHONEST JURYMEN who resisted their fellows in the attempt to throw thedefendant into the hands of her enemies, and the enemies of theircountry; and who, by their honesty and independence, have given a deathblow to those corrupt, wicked, and malignant _would-be_-censors of thePress, calling themselves a Constitutional Association; this report ofthe proceedings is gratefully dedicated by, and the sincere and heartfeltthanks is hereby offered to them, of MARY-ANNE and RICHARD CARLILE. REPORT, &c. , &c. This was an indictment at the prosecution of "The ConstitutionalAssociation, " and their first attempt to obtain a verdict. The defendantpleaded Not Guilty. The following are the names of the Jurors:-- SPECIAL. John Stracey, of Smithfield Bars, Merchant, Philip Jacob, of the Crescent, Cripplegate, ditto, James Byrne, of Dyer's Court, ditto, Charles Wright, of the Old Jury, ditto, (foreman)Henry Houghton, of King's Arms Yard, ditto, John Webb, of Coleman-street, ditto. TALESMEN. Joseph Blackburn, Russia Mat Dealer, John Davis, Painter, John Williams, Cheesemonger, Bryan Mills, Packer, Michael Williams, Agent, Frederick Bennet, Smith. Mr. Justice BEST, at the request of the defendant, enquired if either ofthe Jurors was a member of the Constitutional Association. The answerwas in the negative. Mr. TINDALL opened the pleadings. Mr. GURNEY appeared to conduct the prosecution, and Mr. COOPER was forthe defendant. Mr. GURNEY. --May it please your lordship; gentlemen of the Jury; myfriend, Mr. Tindall, has told you the nature of this action, and it isnow my duty to lay this case before you. The indictment has been foundby a grand jury, upon the prosecution of the Constitutional Association;and it charges the defendant, Mary Ann Carlile, with publishing a libelupon the government and the constitution of this country; and, gentlemen, after a not very limited experience in these cases, I will say, that amore criminal and atrocious libel never met my observation. It purportsto be written by Richard Carlile; it is dated from Dorchester Gaol, andit has been published by the defendant, the sister of that man who is nowsuffering imprisonment for his own criminal conduct. It is entitled, "ANew Year's Address to the Reformers of Great Britain;" and, among otherobjectionable passages not charged as libelous, it contains thefollowing; "As far as the barrack system will admit"-- Mr. Justice BEST. --I do not think that you are entitled to read thatpassage, Mr. Gurney. Mr. COOPER. --I think not, my lord; I was just rising to interrupt Mr. Gurney. Mr. GURNEY. --I have no objection, my lord, to abstain from reading thepassage to which I was about to call your attention. I shall read thepassage which is charged as libelous, and if the learned counsel for thedefendant can find throughout a single passage to qualify its malignity, do you, gentleman, give the defendant the benefit of it. The passage isthis:--"To talk about the British Constitution, is, in my opinion, a sureproof of dishonesty; Britain has no constitution. If we speak of theSpanish constitution, we have something tangible; there is a substanceand meaning as well as sound. In Britain there is nothing constitutedbut corruption in the system of government; our very laws are corrupt andpartial, both in themselves and in their administration; in fact, corruption as notorious as the sun at noon-day, is an avowed part of oursystem, and is denominated the necessary oil for the wheels of thegovernment; it is a most pernicious oil to the interests of the people. "And in another passage the following words were contained:--"Reform willbe obtained when the existing authorities have no longer the power towithhold it, and not before. We shall gain it as early withoutpetitioning as with it, and I would again put forward my opinion, thatsomething more than a petitioning attitude is necessary. At this momentI would not say a word about insurrection, but I would strongly recommendunion, activity, and co-operation. Be ready and steady to meet anyconcurrent circumstances. " Now, gentleman, these are the passagescharged as libelous, and I defy even the ingenuity of my learned friendto show that they are not most odious libels. What! are the people ofthis free and independent country to be told that they have noconstitution? It is an assertion, the malignity of which is onlyequalled by its falsehood. We have a free and glorious constitution. Ithas descended to us from our brave and free ancestors, and I trust thatwe, too, shall have virtue and magnanimity enough to transmit itunimpaired to our posterity. We have laws, too, equal in theiradministration. We have a constitution where no lowness of birth--nomeanness of origin--operate as an obstacle to preferment; in which thechief situations are open to competition, and for which the onlyqualifications are integrity and information. Our laws are herestigmatized as partial and corrupt. If they were not impartial, this manwould never have dared to vilify them. The very accusation proves thatthe charge is false; for if it were true, this libeler must have suddenlysuffered for this assertion. It is because that they are administered ina spirit of mercy unknown to the laws of any other country--it is becausethey are administered in tenderness, that this man has had the power topromulgate his vile and odious falsehood. He thought it meet and right, and most becoming too, to tell the world that this was not the precisetime for insurrection. He plainly indicates, that he has no objection toit; but he would not say a word about it at present, the time was notcome; but he tells his fellow reformers to be "ready and steady to meetany concurrent circumstances. " Gentlemen, it would be an idle andimpertinent waste of time to make any further observations upon thepernicious tendency of this libel. But what is the defence which is tobe set up by my learned friend? Are we to be told that the prosecutionof this libel is an invasion of the liberty of the press? I will notyield to my learned friend, nor to any man in existence, in a just regardfor the freedom of the press. But who, I would ask, is invading itsliberty? He who brings to justice the offenders, or he who under thesacred form of liberty promulgates such language as I have just read toyou? I do not think that on this subject you can entertain a doubt. Ifeel the most perfect confidence in committing this case to your goodsense. If you believe that the defendant is guilty of publishing thislibel with the intention charged, you will pronounce your verdict ofguilty. If, on the other hand, you think that the passages which I haveread to you contain nothing libelous, or that the defendant is not thepublisher, I shall sincerely rejoice in your conscientious acquittal. _James Rignall_ deposed, that he had purchased the pamphlet in questionof the defendant, at her shop in Fleet Street, on Friday evening, the 9thof March. There were several other copies lying about on the counter. Cross-examined by Mr. COOPER. --Who are you?--I am an agent to the Societyfor the Suppression of Vice. But you are also employed by these constitutional people, as they callthemselves?--Only in this one instance. Were you employed to purchase the pamphlet in question?--I purchased thatand others. You were employed by the Constitutional Society to purchase them?--Yes, Iwas. Who sent you?--Mr. Murray. The Attorney?--Yes. And he directed you to purchase this pamphlet, eh?--He did notparticularize any. Did he state his object in the purchase?--No. What wages are you to have?--I have no wages. Then you perform this agreeable duty gratuitously?--No, I do not saythat. Then how are you paid?--I made a charge for my time. Perhaps you belong to the society?--No, indeed I do not (with vehemence). Well, I do not wonder that you should be anxious to separate yourselffrom the society (a laugh amongst the auditory). Mr. GURNEY. --I desire that no such remarks may be made. Mr. COOPER. --What have you had for this particular job?--I have made acharge for several other little things I did (a laugh). Mr. GURNEY (to the spectators), --I shall certainly move his Lordship totake notice of some particular persons that I see misconductingthemselves. Cross-examination resumed. --What other jobs did you for theassociation?--I did several jobs; that I will not deny. How much have you had for these little jobs?--I declare upon my oath, Icannot state particularly how much I had for these little jobs. I made acharge. I don't recollect exactly what my charge was. Come, come, the round sum?--I can tell you pretty nearly the round sum, if that will satisfy you. I think it was above seven pounds and underseven guineas. I was sent on other business beside this. I wish to know what that other business was?--Is it necessary to answerthat question? I think it necessary. --Then I will take the sense of the Court upon it. Ihave no objection to answer that or any other question, if my Lord thinksI ought. Mr. Justice BEST (smiling). --It tends to nothing; but it is as well toanswer it. Then I purchased come other different things for the association, but itwas not in consequence of any general or particular orders I received: Iwent to purchase these publications which I myself thought libels; Icannot state exactly now what they were. Then you did that, I suppose, without any hope of reward?--I don't statewithout any hope of reward; I expected to be paid for my time. Oh, then, it was not altogether out of virtue and patrioticfeeling?--Those were two of my motives, most certainly, but not the onlyones (general laughing). Has this been the usual way of getting your living?--It has for a yearand a half past; I have had no other feasible occupation during thattime. I suppose you received a considerable sum in the course of thishonourable employment?--I have told you the sum total was about 7 pounds. Mr. Justice BEST. --Do you think that material, Mr. Cooper? Mr. COOPER. --I do think it material, to show the sort of agents that thishonourable society employs. (To witness. ) And what did you do beforeyou suppressed vice and libels?--I got my living honourably as an officerin his Majesty's customs. And are you still an honourable officer, &c. ?--No; I have lost mysituation. Retired upon a pension?--No. How old are you?--Fifty-four. No pension, eh?--None. Re-examined by Mr. GURNEY. --I have been in the employment of the Societyfor the Suppression of Vice for a year and a half; I have been paid bythem for my services. In this instance, and in several others, I havemade some purchases for the Constitutional Association. _Horatio Orton_ was then called. A general murmur ran through the Court, which was crowded to excess; and all persons most deferentially gave thewitness way. Examined by Mr. GURNEY. --I was a witness before the Grand Jury. On the10th of March I purchased another copy of the pamphlet in question fromMary Anne Carlile; I had it from her own hand. Cross-examined by Mr. COOPER. --How came you to purchase this on the 10thof March?--I was directed by Mr. Murray, the solicitor, to purchase it. This is the gentleman? (pointing to Mr. Murray, in court)--Yes. He is the Honorary Secretary to the Association, and the disinterestedattorney for this prosecution?--Yes, I was sent by him for the expresspurpose of purchasing this pamphlet; I should not have gone if I had notbeen directed by him. What is your situation in the society?--My situation to the Associationis as clerk. Clerk to Mr. Murray?--No; I am not in Mr. Murray's office. In the Society's office, separate from the attorney's office?--Yes. In what situation were you before?--I used to assist my brother in hiscorrespondence with country newspapers. Not for the town papers?--No, for himself; he takes the reports of theHouse of Lords' proceedings, and transmits them to the editors of thecountry papers; I used to assist him in the copying, and he paid me formy trouble. What is your salary in your present honourable situation?--It is notfixed. It depends upon your exertions?--Yes. Then you work at present by the piece?--No, I do not; the committee havenot yet come to a determination about my salary; I have not made anydemand for salary; I have not proposed any sum; I mean to swear that; notany sum has been proposed to me; I don't say that I would work for theSociety gratuitously; if I want five or ten pounds I know where to go forit; not of the Association; I can have it of my brother; I expect toreceive something of the Association. In your modesty, what may be the extent of your expectations? Mr. GURNEY submitted that this was not a proper mode ofcross-examination. Mr. COOPER. --I think it is, and I shall persist in it until I am told bymy Lord that it is irregular. Mr. Justice BEST. --I don't think any part of the cross-examination isapproaching to anything like regularity. Mr. COOPER. --If your Lordship says I am not to be allowed the samelatitude which is allowed to counsel on other occasions, I shall notpersevere. Mr. Justice BEST. --I have no objection to your taking your own course, but I think this course of examination ought to have been stopped longago. I think every fair and reasonable indulgence ought to be allowed tocounsel in such a case, but if this was a mere civil case I should havestopped you long ago. Mr. COOPER. --Then I shall proceed in my own way, with your Lordship'spermission. (To witness. ) Is this the first job you have been employedin?--I don't recollect any other of this kind. Are you sure you have been employed upon no other job of this kind?--Icannot bring to my recollection whether I have not been employed on anyother. I may have been, but I am not aware of any. Do you know a man named King?--Yes, perfectly. Do you recollect doing a job in which he was concerned?--I don'trecollect doing a job of this kind against King. I might if I saw thepaper before me with my mark upon it. There are so many of them that Icannot recollect any in particular. Have you not made an affidavit in the job against King?--Yes; but that issince this. I cannot recollect whether I have done any other jobs. Ihave been in the employment of the Association about six months. Icommenced on the 8th of January. Since the 10th of March, I don'trecollect how many jobs I have been engaged in; they are so numerous Ican't recollect. The orders which Mr. Murray gave me, were to go andpurchase the Reformers' Address at the defendant's shop. I had not anygeneral directions to buy at this or that shop--not from Mr. Murray. Ihad from other persons, general directions to make purchase of works; oneof those persons was Mr. Sharpe. He is the Honorary Assistant Secretary?--Yes. (All the preceding questions excited considerable sensations amongst theaudience, and produced a chorus of humourous tittering). Mr. Justice BEST. --The effect of these questions, Mr. Cooper, you mustfeel. You cannot wish, I am sure, to excite the sort of response whichcomes from below the bar. You must see that it is done on purpose. Youcannot wish, I am sure, to produce that effect. Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I am the last man in the world to do any thinginconsistent with the gravity and decorum of a Court of Justice. Idisclaim any such intention; and I must disdain the insinuation of Mr. Gurney, that I have taken up this cause for the purpose of adding to thepublic odium in which the honourable Association is held. Mr. GURNEY said his learned friend, Mr. Cooper, was mistaken; he hadnever insinuated anything of the kind. Mr. Justice BEST. --I am sure no gentlemen at the bar would wish toproduce the effect which all the questions put by you have had below thebar. Mr. COOPER said he could not control the feelings of the auditory. Hewas only anxious to do his duty to the best of his humble ability, andnothing should deter him from discharging that duty freely andundauntedly. Cross-examination resumed. --What is the office of the Honorary AssistantSecretary?--It is to do every thing at the office. To superintend the business of the office?--I consider him as the actingmanager. Then the Honorary Secretary has a sinecure?--What does the word honorarymean but a sinecure? Mr. COOPER. --"May it please your Lordship; gentlemen of the jury; I amexceedingly sorry that some more able counsel has not to address you onthis most important and momentous occasion. I should have been unequalto the task, under any circumstances. " Mr. GURNEY. --"Stop a minute. " (The learned counsel for the prosecutionhere intimated, that he had something to add to his case; but, after apause, he intimated to Mr. Cooper, that he might proceed. ) Mr. COOPER. --Gentlemen, under any circumstances, this would be a task, for which, I fear, I am very ill qualified; but under those, in which Istand to address you on this question, I feel my incapacity doubled andtrebled. I appear before you without notice, and almost wholly withoutpreparation. I was, indeed, applied to by the defendant, some monthsago, and negotiated with (if I may use the phrase) to undertake herdefence. But, after this, many days and even weeks passed, during whichI heard nothing of the case; and I began to suppose that the defendanthad determined to employ some other counsel, or trust herself to her ownaddress to the jury against this charge. At the end of a month, however, I was again applied to; and, again, weeks having elapsed, without myhearing any more of this prosecution, I dismissed it entirely, not onlyfrom my mind, but from my memory; nor was it, till last night, that, thatI was once more informed that I was to be employed as the defendant'scounsel; and my brief at last put into my hands. I was thenunfortunately engaged in other important business: and the time, I havetaken to collect my own thoughts upon this question, and huddle togethera few extract's from writers of authority, I have been obliged to borrowfrom sleep; and have, therefore, in a great measure counteracted myself;for I have lost in strength, what I have gained in information, andappear before you ill able, indeed, to do justice to this cause. But, whilst I make this statement to excuse my own deficiency, I am bound toacquit the defendant of any reproachable negligence of her own interests. I understand, that the cause of her late application to me, is, thathaving had, as a mere matter of grace, three weeks' notice of trial fromanother society, by which she has been prosecuted, she mistook it for herright; and expected the same notice from her present prosecutors. As shehad not received any such notice (and indeed she was not in law entitledto it), she supposed, that either she was not to be brought to trial atthese sittings, or that the charge was abandoned; as I wish it had been, and as it ought to have been; for I am convinced, that this prosecutioncannot be sustained by either law or reason; and that it must be from theweakness of the counsel alone, that you, gentlemen, can be betrayed topronounce a verdict of Guilty against the defendant. Gentlemen, it is my duty to clear this case of every possible prejudicethat may hang about it in your minds before I enter into the merits of mydefence. I do not know how you are affected, but I well know, that withmany persons, I should have a host of prejudices to contend against, inthe very name alone of Carlile. Many either believe, or affect tobelieve, that the very sound is an omen and an execration, and thateither he cannot be sincere and honest in the opinions which heprofesses, or if he be, that those opinions are incompatible with theexistence or practice of any moral or social virtue. But, whatever hisopinions may be, and whatever your sentiments upon them, I have at leasta right to ask of you not to allow any prejudice against the relation, against the brother, to warp your judgment on the trial of the defendant:for, what can possibly be more remote from justice, than, instead ofjudging a person fairly for his own conduct, to condemn him by ouropinion of the sentiments and character of another? I hope and trustthat you have entertained no such prejudices: but if you have, I feelassured, that you brought them no further than the threshold of thecourt:--at that door they fell from you, like the burthen from thepilgrim (in the beautiful allegory) on his reaching the cross; and youstand there with your minds unbiassed, free and pure, to decide betweenthe crown and the defendant in this cause. But it is not only my duty, gentlemen, to clear the defendant, but to extricate the counsel fromevery unfavourable suspicion, lest it should, possibly, by any confusionof the client with the advocate, operate to the disadvantage of thedefendant. Whatever, therefore, may be thought of the pamphlet which is before you, as a libel, or of the writer or publisher, I most solemnly affirm, thatthere is no one who more warmly admires the English constitution, as itstands in theory and ought to exist in practice, than myself, nor isthere any one who would more willingly shed his blood if it werenecessary, or even lose his life in its support. It is needless then tosay, that a more irreconcileable enemy would not be found than myself tothe man (if any such there be) who could attempt to overturn our mingledand limited forms of government: and substitute a wild democracy in theirplace. I think, indeed, that a democratic form of government, howeverspecious in argument, is by no means so capable of raising a state tothat eminence of civilization and prosperity, which this country hasreached; a condition, for which it is indebted to better times, while thepractice concurred with the theory of our government; but which, unlessthe practice is brought back to the theory, I venture to predict, has notmuch longer to continue. I, gentlemen, appear here only in the dischargeof my duty; and to redeem that pledge to defend the accused, which everyman, upon assuming this gown, gives to the public of England. I would, however, have it distinctly understood, that it is only to guard againstprejudice to the defendant, and not from any apprehensions for myself, that I trouble you with this explanation. For myself, I am extremelycareless, what may be thought of me for having come forward to defendthis unfortunate woman. I do not expect to escape obloquy in the presentoverheated disposition of the country, How can I expect it? when even thepresent Lord Erskine, whose talents and independence should have renderedhis character sacred, as soon as it was known that he was to be counselfor Paine was overwhelmed with abuse, and threatened with the loss of hissituation, as attorney general to the Prince, if he did not decline thedefence. But he knew his duty and discharged it. And for which will hebe most honoured by posterity? By which most ennobled? for having inspite of threats, and all the seductions of self-interest, persevered inhis duty? or for having been exalted to the peerage of England andadorned with the national order of Scotch knighthood? But, if even myhumble situation, should not exempt me from the attacks of the maliciousand furious, I can tell them that their malignity will be disappointed. Instead of regret and mortification it will be a source of pride andhappiness to me. Small as my chance may be of credit for the assertion, I declare, that I propose to myself no reward so high for my exertions, as the consciousness of having, in spite of all hopes on one side, orfears on the other, honestly discharged my duty. If ever in my course in the profession, I should find myself woundedeither in fortune or reputation, instead of regretting and deploring it, I will rejoice and exult at it, and, at those hours, when in fullconfidence of his companions, it is neither indecent nor unsafe in a manto speak of his own actions, I will boast of it, I will shew it, as anhonourable scar. Gentlemen, with these preliminary observations, I will proceed tointroduce my case to you. My learned friend, Mr. Gurney, has opened thisprosecution with all that pomp of eloquence, and solemnity ofdeclamation, which he possesses in so ample a manner, and which make himso accomplished an advocate. But what has he done? All, indeed, that heor any one else could have done: yet, nothing more than repeat thosearguments, which are trite, and worn like a turnpike, and have beentopics for counsel after counsel, through a thousand of theseprosecutions; while he has left all the great subjects of considerationthat present themselves to the mind on these questions, wholly untouched. He has declared, indeed, but without showing you why, that the words, charged in the indictment are an atrocious libel; in which, as it appearsto me, he has been rather premature, for a libel they are not, and cannotbe, unless your verdict should so declare them. I assert, gentlemen, Iam sure his Lordship will nod assent to me while I assert it, that youare the only judges of the law of libel in this case; and this paper, forwhich the defendant stands before you, is either a libel or not a libel, as you may in your consciences think it, and on your oaths pronounce it. The statute, indeed, which declares this the law, has given, or ratherleft with his Lordship, the right of stating his opinion on that questionto you; but I am sure he will not think that I exceed my duty, as anadvocate, when I say, that though it is your duty to receive his opinionwith respect, and give it the most attentive consideration, yet it stillleaves you free to your own judgments, and if after weighing his opinion, you find yours unaltered, you have not only a right, but it is your dutyto reject his opinion and to act on your own. Gentlemen, I submit that it is within your province to take intoconsideration the nature and operation of those writings, which arecalled in prosecutions of this kind libels. You are sitting there to trythis charge as an offence by the common law of the land. The defendantis accused of having committed an act in the nature of a nuisance; andyou are to judge whether that act could operate as a nuisance or not. Youare not bound, because pamphlets have been prosecuted as libels time outof mind, or even because they have been declared libels by the verdictsof preceding juries to tread in no other path than their steps; and tofind similar, or even the same matter, libels, if you should not thinkthem criminal or dangerous. If you should be convinced by argument, notonly that the pamphlet before you is not a libel, but that almost allthose political writings, which it has been the habit of certain people, taking up the cry from their leaders, to call libels, are not merely notdangerous but beneficial to political society; is it possible toconceive, that you can be induced to pronounce a verdict of guiltyagainst the defendant! How can you come to such a conclusion; as thatthere should be punishment where there has been no mischief, and wherethere could have been none, and if there not only has been no mischief, but could have been none, --nay, if even there must have been benefit, howcan you lay your hands on your hearts, and say there has been crime?Suppose a man was indicted for a nuisance in doing that for which anumber of persons had in succession been indicted and convicted, wouldthat oblige a jury to find a verdict against a person at this dayindicted for the same act, if he should prove to them by evidence, whichtheir minds could not resist, that what had been complained of as hurtfulto public health and morals was noxious to neither, but salutary to both?Would you, in such a case, though a thousand preceding juries had, intheir ignorance, pronounced verdicts of guilty, follow their example, against your full knowledge and internal conscience? To illustrate by afamiliar instance, when hops were first introduced into this country theywere very generally believed to be pernicious. Several persons were Ibelieve prosecuted and convicted for using them; yet now they are knownnot only to be not pernicious, but nutritious; they form a principalingredient in the daily beverage of our tables, and are even employedlargely in medicine. Let us now imagine a man prosecuted for the use ofhops or any other drugs upon the ground that they injured health, andthat upon his trial he should fill the box with men of science aswitnesses, and shew you to moral demonstration, that so far from beinginjurious, they were highly salutary, would you, because other juries hadconvicted in a state of ignorance, imitate their blindness, and convictthe defendant? Certainly not. Then to apply this to writings, prosecuted as libels, though there may have been hundreds, and thousands, nay tens of thousands of convictions upon them, yet, if you should beconvinced, that what are usually called libels (and this among them)cannot be injurious, but so far from it, that they are innocent and evensalutary to the state, in which they are published, would you hand overthe publisher to punishment by a verdict of guilty? But I amanticipating, I fear, my defence, and introducing too early observations, which will better be urged in a subsequent part of my address to you. Iwill, therefore, pass at once to the paper charged as a libel in theindictment, and examine, under what circumstances it has come before you. And in the first place, as to the publication, without which (whateverthe nature of the writing may be, there can be no crime) who are morallythe publishers of this pamphlet? Have you any evidence, whatever, thatany one of these pamphlets was in circulation, or ever would have beencirculated, but for the impertinent, obtrusive, sordid, and base part ofthe ministers of the Constitutional Association? How otherwise is thispamphlet here? Let us turn back to the evidence of the first witness. Hewas the worthy servant of the Association in this and a few other recentinstances, but for the most part, within a year and a half, the servantof the Society for the Suppression of Vice: a Society very different, indeed, from that with which we have had to deal to-day;--not that I haveany affection even for that association: I would neither praise nor evenbe suspected of approving it, but I will not be so unjust and scandalousas to compare it with the Constitutional Association. Before thiswitness was employed by that society, he was a Custom-house officer. Areyou, I asked him, now a Custom-house officer? No. How comes that? Ilost my place. How old are you? Fifty-four. Have you any pension? No. Now, gentlemen, I beg to observe, that it is not the habit of the Custom-house to turn away officers, who have grown grey in their service, without a pension; unless they have richly deserved to be so discardedand abandoned. Such, gentlemen, are the instruments employed as spies bythe acting members of this Association! This fellow is sent out withinstructions from the honorary secretary, Mr. Murray, who is the attorneyfor the prosecution, to purchase, not this pamphlet alone, but anypolitical pamphlet, which in his judgment might be libelous. Good God!to what a condition are we reduced, when, under the auspices of thisblessed Association, discarded tide-waiters, and broken gaugers, are madejudges of what is libelous, and leagued with an attorney, are todetermine what may, and what may not, without the terror of aprosecution, issue from a free press. Such was the course pursued: andcan you conscientiously say, that, but for this hiring of a spy to make apurchase of this pamphlet for the sole purpose of founding thisprosecution upon that very instance of sale, the public would ever haveheard of it? Gentlemen, it is a great happiness, and much securityarises from it, that every person who stands forward as a prosecutorexposes his own conduct, as it is connected with the prosecution, toscrutiny and animadversion. I have a right to assume that freedom whichis the privilege of the bar. I remember that in the case of the King andthe Dean of St. Asaph, in which the present Marshal of the King's BenchPrison, without any apparent connection with the subject of theprosecution, was the prosecutor, the counsel for the defendant exercisedthis right, and the Marshal was successively the object of his ridiculeand indignation. Mr. Justice BEST. --Mr. Cooper do you think it acting fairly to make thissort of attack on a gentleman who is not present? Is this the practiceof the bar? Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I make no attack on the Marshal. I only statethat-- Mr. Justice BEST. --These observations being made on one who is notanywise connected with this case, who is not present to answer forhimself, and who would not be permitted if he was, what are we tosuppose? Can any gentleman at the bar consider this as fair? Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I have no design to attack the Marshal either inhis absence or presence. I mentioned him but incidentally. What earthlypurpose could it answer to this case to attack him? He _was_ theprosecutor in _that_ case, and I rather incautiously, perhaps, mentionedwho the prosecutor was, by name; when I ought only to have said theprosecutor. If I have done him any injustice, I beg his pardon aspublicly for it, and thus, I give a remedy as wide as the wound. I saythen, gentlemen, that the prosecutor in that case, was alternately theobject of the keenest indignation, and the most jeering ridicule, and Ihave a right to be equally as free, as the counsel in that case, with theprosecutors in this: but I shall by no means follow the example. On thecontrary, I think, we are deeply indebted to the ConstitutionalAssociation. Consider how we were circumstanced when they first aroseamongst us. There was the state, with a standing army of only a hundredthousand men, and nothing besides, except the whole civil force of therealm, a revenue of no more than seventy millions; and the feebleassistance of the established law officers of the crown to prosecutepublic offenders, when this Constitutional Association in the pure spiritof chivalry, steps forward to help the weakness of Government, andsuccour its distress. Now, whatever men may talk of justice, who can saythat disinterestedness has altogether abandoned the earth? Who can saythat generosity has forsaken us and flown to heaven? Let it beconsidered too, that but for their active vigilance Carlile's shop wouldnot have been known. No productions from it had ever been the subject ofprosecution, and but for the keen scent of the Association, the rank andhuge sedition contained in the New Year's Address might have lain in itscovert undetected and undisturbed. But to drop this irony and beserious, the law officers of the crown are fully adequate to theirduties, and Carlile's shop was as well known to the Attorney General asSt. Paul's to you. For years he has not had his eyes off it. I willengage that every publication, that has issued from it, and this verypamphlet among the rest, has passed through his hands, and under hisreview. Yet the law officers of the crown do not appear here toprosecute it as a libel against the state; and I entreat you to markthis, for I have a right to urge it, as a strong negative proof, thatthey do not so consider it; and how can that require your condemnationwhich they (with a judgment surely very much superior to that of theCommittee of the Constitutional Association) have not thought worthy ofprosecution or notice? Yes, you are actually called upon by thisAssociation to deliver over to punishment the publisher of this paper, whilst the law officers of the crown (who neglect their duty, if they donot prosecute offences against the state) have thought it of a nature notat all requiring their interference What can be so preposterous? Somonstrous? And in taking leave of this view of the case, let me oncemore ask you who have been actually the publishers of this paper? Haveyou a single iota of evidence, which ought to satisfy your minds, that, but for the insidious conduct of the Association, and its spies, thispamphlet would ever have been before you or the public? Is there ashadow of proof that one copy was ever sold, except those bought by thecreatures employed by the honorary secretary (who is also the feedattorney in this prosecution) for the sole object of entangling thedefendant in this indictment? None, whatever. None. They conspired yousee to procure and seduce (the word is neither too broad nor too long fortheir conduct) the publication for the very purpose of this prosecution. How then having thus suborned the offence of which they complain, canthey dare to stand forward as prosecutors, when they themselves are thecriminals, and ought to be the defendants. Mr. Justice BEST. --You mean. Mr. Cooper, to offer some evidence of that, I suppose. Mr. COOPER. --None, my lord, but the evidence already before the court andthe jury, and the strong and necessary inference from the facts proved bythe witnesses for the prosecution themselves. Mr. GURNEY. --There were many others lying on the counter. Mr. COOPER. --What of that, does it follow that they must, therefore, havebeen sold? In the absence of all other proof of any publication, I havea right, I am forced to consider the Association as the only publishers. Mr. Justice BEST. --In the evidence there is nothing like it. Mr. COOPER. --What, gentlemen, is it a necessary conclusion, that becausethe pamphlets were lying in the shop, they must have been sold to otherpersons? The defendant but for their intrusion, for the sole design ofprosecution, might have sold no others. She might have changed herintention to sell. The pamphlets might have lain like bad versesuntouched on the shop counter, till they were turned over for wastepaper, and not a soul have ever known of their contents. TheAssociation, therefore, by their insidious and plotted purchase for thesole object of prosecution, have provoked the act of publication, andthey, who provoke crimes are the criminals, and ought to be the culprits;and those, who would punish the crimes that they have provoked, aredevils, and not men; "the tempters ere the accusers. " When I contemplatesuch conduct--but I will not waste another word, or another moment ofyour time upon this miserable Association. If I had consulted my betterjudgment, I should have passed them in silence; thus much my indignationhas wrung from my contempt. I shall now, gentlemen, proceed to the examination of the libel, orrather that which is charged as a libel itself; and I shall begin withthe last part so charged in the indictment, instead (as my learned friendhas done) with the first; and let me beg your regard to one remarkablefact, that at the very point of the paper, at which the motives, anddesign of the writer present themselves to the reader; at that very pointthis indictment stops. It has not, as you will presently see, thecandour to proceed a single syllable farther. I will now read thepassage, "Reform, " it says, "will be obtained when the existingauthorities have no longer the power to withhold it, and not before, weshall gain it as early without petitioning as with it; and I would againput forward my opinion that something more than a petitioning attitude isnecessary. " This it has been urged to you, with great emphasis, is anexcitement to insurrection; and you are called upon to draw thatinference, though the author immediately afterwards disavows, expresslydisavows any such intention. But even, if the words stood alone, I denythat you are compelled to such a construction. Gentlemen, will any oneventure to say, that I, standing in this place, and in the very exerciseof my profession, mean any thing, but what is strictly legal, when I saymyself, that supposing reform in Parliament be necessary, something morethan mere petitioning is requisite to obtain it? But in saying this, doI mean any thing violent or illegal? Heaven forbid; No: but I would havesocieties formed, and meetings held for the purpose of discussing thatmomentous subject. If reform be necessary, and the desire of a greatmajority of the country, I would have that desire shown unambiguously tothe legislature, by resolutions and declarations at such meetings. Whowill deny such societies and meetings to be legal? Yet, such meetingswould be more than mere petitioning, much more: and the author meansnothing beyond this; for I say, that in the absence of all othercriteria, the only means of judging of a writer's intentions are hiswords. Look then at the words which immediately follow the assertion, that "something more than a petitioning attitude is necessary. " If thosewords had been included in the indictment, this prosecution must havebeen at an end upon merely reading the charge, and those words, therefore, the Association avoided, as cautiously as they would thepoison of a viper. They felt, that though the indicted words standingalone might perhaps admit of a doubt for a moment, yet the contextcompletely explained them, and gave an air of perfect innocence to thewhole passage. But you shall judge for yourselves: I will read thepassage, --"Something more than a petitioning attitude is necessary. Atthis moment I would not say a word about insurrection; but I wouldstrongly recommend union, activity, and co-operation. Be ready andsteady to meet any concurrent circumstance. " Now what kind of union, activity, and co-operation does he mean? Is it military association, marches, and attack? No. Hear the writer's own words again:--"The UnionRooms at Manchester and Stockport are admirable models of co-operation, and are more calculated than any thing else to strengthen the body ofreformers. " For what do the reformers assemble in these rooms? How dothey co-operate there? Is it to consult how they shall arm and organizethemselves, and seize with a violent hand the reform which they despairof gaining by petition? Nothing like it. The writer himself still tellsyou his meaning. "Here (that is at the Manchester and Stockport rooms)children are educated, and adults instruct each other. Here there is acontinual and frequent communication between all the reformers in thosetowns. " This, then, and no other, is the co-operation which the authorintended, and proposes. If any man, taking the paper in his hand andreading the whole paragraph, can say that any thing more is meant, to hisreason I should cease to appeal. I should sit down in silent despair ofmaking any impression on such an understanding; but you, gentlemen, I askyou, adding the words which I have read to the broken passage, which isinsidiously separated and included in the indictment, can there be adoubt remaining in any rational and unprejudiced mind, that the union andco-operation called for by this Address from those who desire reform inParliament, is nothing more than the establishment at other places, ofrooms, on the model of those at Stockport and Manchester; where childrenand adults are instructed, and information disseminated on the subject ofParliamentary Reform. And if this is all that is meant, there is an endof this part of the indictment; for it cannot be libelous to recommend ina writing the people to do that, which it is perfectly legal to do. With regard to reform itself, I cannot know, whether any of you areadvocates for it or opposed to it, nor is it requisite that I should; Ido not ask you to think or say with me, and others, that reform inParliament is necessary, and that nothing but reform can save the countryfrom ruin; all that I ask of you is to allow me and others credit for theconscientiousness of our opinions, and charitably admit, if yours areopposite, that though we may be mistaken in our judgments, we must not ofnecessity be criminal in our intentions. I leave you and every man tothe free exercise of your thoughts, and the free enjoyment of theconclusions to which they lead you. Let this liberality be reciprocal, and concede the same freedom to others which you demand for yourselves. Ihave always thought that a difference in religious and political mattersneed not and ought not to create hostility of feeling, and sever those, who would otherwise be friends. I myself enjoy the friendship ofseveral, who entertain very different opinions from mine upon thosesubjects; and yet that difference has not, and never shall, on my part, at least, disturb our friendship. In all questions in which you cannothave mathematical demonstration, there may be fair, honest, conscientiousdifference of opinion; and you cannot have geometrical proof in questionsof religion, politics, and morals. The very nature of the subjectsaltogether excludes it. To expect it, as Bishop Sanderson says, would beas absurd as to expect to see with the ear and to hear with the eye. Sovarious are our opinions upon these subjects, that we not only differfrom one another upon them, but at different times we find we differ fromourselves; and, as another learned churchman, in more recent times, hassaid, what could be more unjust than to quarrel with other men fordiffering in opinion from him, when no two men ever differed more fromone another than he at different times differed on the very same subjectfrom himself. Under this state of uncertainty in human judgment, I callupon you, and I am sure I shall not call in vain, to be slow to condemnthe opinions of others, because they are different from your own; and, therefore, if any of you should think reform in Parliament needless, oreven dangerous, I still call upon you (though the writer of this papershould be a reformer, and even though he is called in reproach a radicalreformer) not to condemn the defendant in this case through prejudiceagainst the author's opinions; but solely to enquire (be those opinionsever so just or ever so absurd) whether he is sincere in entertainingthem; for, if he be (as I shall show you presently from the highestauthority) the law does not consider him criminal. Try him by this test, and this test, and this alone; and then, whatever may be your verdict, you will be free from reproach, and secure to yourselves quiet by day, and sound slumbers by night; for you will have discharged your duty toyourselves, to the defendant, and to the country. With regard, gentlemen, to the other part of the alleged libel, I mustbespeak your patience; for I am afraid that I shall be drawn by mycomments upon it into considerable length. (I am afraid, gentlemen, Iweary you, and I am sorry for it. If I had had leisure, I would havecondensed my observations; but, under the circumstances I have disclosedto you, I hope you will forgive me for occupying more of your attentionthan I would otherwise have done. I really have not had time to beshort. ) To return to the passage in the paper, which is first charged asa libel: it denies the existence of any constitution in Great Britain. Now whether there be anything malicious and criminal in this, dependsentirely upon the meaning which the author attaches to the wordconstitution. I confess it is a word that gives me a very indistinct anduncertain idea; and I believe that if any of you were now suddenly to askyourselves what you understood by it, you would find you were not veryready to give yourselves an answer; and if you could even satisfactorilyanswer yourselves, you would find if you were to go further and questionyour neighbour, that he would give you a very different definition fromyour own. In itself it means nothing more than simply a standing orplacing together; and it really seems to me rather hard and venturous toindict a man for denying the existence of something (whatever it may be)expressed by the most indefinite term in our whole language. But, if wewere agreed upon the ideas which should be attached to the word, let usexamine whether, allowing for a certain freedom of expression and theearnest eagerness with which a man who is sincere in his doctrinesenforces them in his composition, a writer may not, without being exposedto a charge of criminal intention, assert that there is no constitutionin this country. And let us take with us to this examination, that a manis not to be too strictly tied to words, when under the impulse of warmand keen feelings, and when the thoughts flow, as it were, at once fromthe heart into the pen, he sits down to excite his countrymen to theirgood, or warn them of their danger. You must not think to bind him downwith the shackles of verbal criticism, when he is too intent upon histheme exactly to measure his expressions. Now, that the writer of thispaper is sincere in his opinions, whatever the quality of those opinionsis, it is difficult not to believe. He published his opinions, though heexposed himself to punishment for them, and he perseveres in them whilehe is suffering a heavy punishment. You can have no more convincingproof of sincerity than this. But, what if a political writer has, inthe warmth of composition, asserted that in England we have noconstitution, who can misunderstand him? We cannot suppose he meant thatthere was a dissolution of all law and government; because we know andfeel the contrary. Few would have occasion to ask him what he meant. If, however, he were asked, he should explain by telling you, that theconstitution in theory is very much corrupted from the practice; and Iand you, and every person must admit, that the practice has strayed widefrom the theory; and, forced to admit this, I assert with a writer, who(whatever was thought of him once, and whilst those who were the objectsof his reproach still lived) is now the pride and boast of the country, both for the supreme elegance and the principles of his politicalwritings, that "wherever the practice deviates from the theory so far thepractice is vicious and corrupt. " Now, saying no more than this, andwhen it would have been the merest stupidity to understand him literally, how can the writer be convicted of a design to bring the Government intohatred and contempt, because he has expressed his meaning by sayingfiguratively "there is no Constitution. " But he has previously said, that to talk about the British Constitution is, in his opinion, dishonesty. I know he has. I did not mean to pass it, I will not, gentlemen, shrink from any part of the passage, for I feel that it cannotbear with any heavy pressure against me. "To talk of the BritishConstitution is, in my opinion, a sure proof of dishonesty. " Here itwill be seen that the only exception that can be taken to this sentenceis the mere mode of expression. If a man were to talk to me of theConstitution of England, and, by omitting all notice of its aberrationsin practice from its theory, by which he would leave it free to me tosuspect, that he would insinuate that the theory and the practice werethe same, I should certainly say, that he was exhibiting want of candour. I might, perhaps, think dishonesty, rather too strong a term for suchconduct; but I should not scruple to say, that he was disingenuous, andhe _would_ be guilty of a species of dishonesty; for all thedisingenuousness is to a degree dishonest; and, since the meaning is thesame, why should we quarrel at a mere difference of expression? Theauthor proceeds to say, "If we speak of the Spanish Constitution, we havesomething tangible; there is a substance and meaning as well as sound. "So that it is clear he was saying, that we had no Constitution incomparison with that just promulged by the Spanish nation. The Spaniardswe know have recently gained by their own glorious efforts, thatpolitical liberty to which they had been so long strangers; and theirLegislature had just published a code of fundamental laws, few in number, but most comprehensive in securing freedom to the people, for whom theyare framed. They are (comparatively with the laws of countries, in whichthe frame of government is old, and complicated) not numerous, but themind may collect them almost at a glance, and possess itself of them witha single effort of the understanding. In this view of the subject, without doubt, the Constitution of Spain is tangible; and in this sensehe is justified in asserting that our own Constitution is not tangible;for is it not notorious that our laws are spread through so many Acts ofParliament of doubtful and difficult construction, and so many books ofreports, containing the common law of the land (and in which there are nofew conflicting decisions) that the whole life of a man does not sufficeto achieve a knowledge of them. So multifarious and infinite andperplexed is our code, that even amongst those whose profession is thelaw it is not possible to meet with an accomplished lawyer. The defendant here fainted, and was taken out of court. After theinterruption which this circumstance occasioned had subsided, Mr. COOPERproceeded-- Gentlemen, I lament in common with many others that this evil hasattended an extended degree of civilization and trade--that our laws havebecome too numerous and complicated for the capacity of the mind. Thatthey are so, is not my opinion alone, but that of the Legislature itself. I believe that a committee of the Houses of Parliament has been sittingand still sits for the object of reducing our laws to some limit in theirnumber and some order as to their design; without which our Constitution, to use the words of the writer, cannot be tangible; a tangible shape, atpresent it does not possess, for that cannot be tangible which spreadsitself over a boundless extent, that eludes, and defies the grasp of thehuman intellect. Having disposed of thus much of this paragraph, I come to the words, onwhich my learned friend, Mr. Gurney, laid such extreme stress in hisaddress to you. "Our very laws, are corrupt and partial both inthemselves, and in their administration. In fact corruption _asnotorious as the sun at noon-day_ is an avowed part of the system, and isdenominated the necessary oil for the wheels of Government. It is a mostpernicious oil to the interests of the people. " This is strong languageI admit, and would perhaps be censurable as imprudent, at least, if thevery expressions themselves, which the writer uses, did not guide usdirectly to the facts to which he alludes, and explain the passage. Healludes most manifestly to the celebrated exclamation of a person at thetime that he was in the seat of office, the first commoner of the realm, and who instead of being reproached for his words has retired from hisoffice with the honours which he has merited for his services in it. Ittranspired in the House of Commons, that seats had been trafficked for asarticles of sale and purchase for money. Mr. Justice BEST. --Is that a subject at all relating to the questionwhich is now before the jury? Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I am going to use the declaration of the Speaker, as a matter of history, and to show, that the words charged as criminalwere an allusion to it; and if so, were not criminally used. I do notwish, nay I would avoid the introduction of any improper or inflammatorytopics. I would not attempt to serve my client by such means. When itwas exposed, that there had been certain trafficking for seats in theHouse of Commons, the Speaker used these words (and it is to them, Iwould show the jury, the writer of the paper alludes), "practices are asnotorious as the sun at noon-day at which our ancestors would havestarted with indignation, " and that gentlemen-- Mr. Justice BEST. --Will you allow me to ask you Mr. Cooper, I want toknow where you get that from. Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, from all the reports of the speeches in thenewspapers of the day which were never contradicted. Mr. Justice BEST. --I beg to state, that, whatever passed in Parliament, cannot be questioned anywhere else. Whatever the Speaker said inParliament, he was justified in saying. But I have no means of knowing, nor have you, whether he ever did say so or not. Mr. COOPER. --I am not questioning anything he said in the House ofCommons-- Mr. Justice BEST. --If Mr. Abbot had said it any where else, it would havebeen a libel on the constitution; if he said it there, we cannot enquireabout it; it would be a breach of privilege. Mr. COOPER. --Your Lordship asked me, how I came to know that he said so. My Lord, I have seen it in all the recorded speeches of the House ofCommons in the published debates in Parliament, and-- Mr. Justice BEST. --I say there are no recorded speeches of the House ofCommons to which we can listen or attend. Mr. COOPER. --Certainly, there are no records of speeches in the House ofCommons in the sense in which the proceedings of courts of law arerecords, nor is there in that sense any recorded speech of Cicero or ofLord Chatham; but, my lord, will your lordship say, that I am notentitled in my address to the jury to use that which has been reported aspart of a speech of Lord Chatham or of Cicero; because there are norecords filed, as in the courts of law, of their speeches! I submit thatthey are matters of history; and that, as such, I am at liberty to usethem. Mr. Justice BEST. --I tell you, Mr. Cooper, what the distinction is. Ifyou publish, that, which may be said to be a speech of Lord Chatham's, and it may be an accurate report of his speech, you may be guilty ofpublishing a libel, though the place, in which that speech was deliveredgave a liberty to the speech. You know it has been so decided in my LordAbingdon's case, who published his own speeches. Mr. COOPER. --That, my Lord, was a libel upon a private individual. Isay-- Mr. Justice BEST. --I say you have no knowledge of anything which is saidin the Houses of Parliament. Mr. COOPER. --With great submission I re-urge it as a matter of history, and as such I would use it whether the fact is ten years old or tenthousand, I submit makes no difference. Mr. Justice BEST. --Mr. Cooper, I have told you my opinion; if you don'tchoose to submit to it, the best way will be to go on, perhaps. Mr. COOPER. --With the utmost deference to your Lordship-- Mr. Justice BEST. --The Court of King's Bench has decided this very point, within the last two terms, against what you are contending for. If yourown opinion be the better one, proceed. Mr. COOPER. --Gentlemen, I was going to say, when the Speaker of the Houseof Commons exclaimed (I will not repeat particularly upon what occasion)that our ancestors would have started with indignation at practices whichwere "as notorious as the sun at noon-day, " can you have any doubt inyour mind that the writer of this pamphlet alluded to that exclamation?Why look at the passage, see, he uses the same words. "Corruption is asnotorious as the sun at noon-day" is his very expression. He is citingthe Speaker's own words, and cannot but be supposed to be speaking of thevery same facts. It was proposed, on that occasion, to impeach anobleman, whom I will not name and need not, for those practices. Thishowever was resisted by almost all, and even by some who were friendly toParliamentary reform, and politically adverse to the noblemen, to whom Iallude, not, indeed, upon any pretext of his innocence of the practices, charged against him; but on the sole ground that those practices were sogeneral and notorious that they would condemn themselves in sentencinghim; and among so many guilty, it would be unjust to single him alone forpunishment. Yes; although they were practices, at which our ancestorswould have started with indignation, they were the practices of numbers, and the practices were as notorious as the sun at noon-day; and, therefore, the proposition of impeachment was rejected, and rightly; foras it has been said by the first speaker of all antiquity, we cannot callmen to a strict account for their actions, while we are infirm in our ownconduct. If this is the state of one branch of our Legislature, and ifit is avowed, and by those who would conceal it, if concealment werepossible (but it would be as easy to conceal the sun). Good God! shall aman be prosecuted and pronounced guilty, and consigned to punishment foraffirming that our laws are corrupt; that there is corruption in thesystem, and that corruption is an avowed part of that system? when in soaffirming he only echoes the exclamation of the Speaker himself, that"practices, at which our ancestors would have started with indignation, were as notorious as the sun at noon-day?" Why, if as the Speakerdeclared, such practices exist, and affect the most important branch ofthe Legislature, I myself say, that there is corruption in the veryvitals of the Constitution itself. In such a state of things, to talk ofthe Constitution, is mockery and insult; and I say there is noConstitution. What, then, has the writer of this pamphlet said more thanhas been avowed by the highest authority, and everybody knows? And now, can you lay your hands on your hearts, and by your verdict of Guilty sendthe defendant to linger in a jail for having published what the authorhas, under such circumstances, written? Having thus concluded my observations on the passages selected from thispaper for prosecution, I will, for I have a right to read it all if Iplease, direct your attention to another part of it. Let us examinewhether other passages will not convince us, that (though he should bemistaken in some of his opinions) the whole was written with a single andhonest intention. I myself never read a paper, which, on the whole, appeared to be written with more candour. There is an openness that doesnot even spare the writer himself. Indeed, with regard to his opinions, peculiar and mistaken as he may be, he seems himself, sincerely tobelieve in them. He is now suffering for those opinions, and sufferingwith a firmness, which to those who think him wrong, is stubbornness;and, thus, he affords another proof of the extreme impolicy of attemptingto impose silence by prosecutions, and extort from the mind theabjuration of opinions by external and physical force. It neversucceeds; but, on the contrary, works the very opposite effect to thatwhich is its object. As the author from whom I have just now cited says, with extreme force and equal beauty, "a kind of maternal feeling isexcited in the mind that makes us love the cause for which we suffer. " Itis not for the mere point of expression that it has been said, the bloodof the martyrs is the seed of the church. It is not theological doctrinealone, that thrives and nourishes under persecution. The principle ofthe aphorism applies equally to all opinions upon all subjects. There iswidely spread through our nature an inclination to suspect that there isa secret value in that from which others attempt to drive us by force;and from this, joined to other powerful motives, the persecution of menfor their tenets, whatever they may be, only draws their attachmentcloser, and rivets their affections to them. Every effort to make themabandon the obnoxious doctrine renders them more steadfast to it. Theloppings, which are designed to destroy, serve but as prunings, fromwhich it shoots with increased vigour, and strikes its root still deeper. Has it not always been seen, that persecution has bred in men thatstubborn resolution, which present death has not been able to shake; and, what is more, an eagerness to disseminate amongst others those principlesfor which they have themselves been prosecuted and pursued. I therefore, from my very soul, deprecate every species of persecution on account ofreligious and political opinions, not only from its illiberality, but badpolicy; and I am full of hope, that you will by your verdict to day show, that you have an equal aversion to it. To recur, gentlemen, to the pamphlet; I submit to you that there is ageneral air of sincerity in the language of the writer throughout thecomposition, which obliges us to believe, that, however mistaken you maythink him in his opinions, he is honest in his intentions. He says inanother part of the address "Every government must derive its supportfrom the body of the people; and it follows, as a matter of course, thatthe people must have a power to withhold their supplies. " Which is verytrue: for, where there is a shadow of political liberty, a revenue canonly be raised by taxes to which the people have consented: it beingallowed that where there is taxation without representation tyrannybegins. Now, if the writer really believes that there are corruptpractices in the Government, who can blame him, for proposing (byabstinence from those articles which are taxed and yield a revenue solarge that it supports a system of misgovernment) to compel our rulers, by a diminution of their means of undue influence to a regard to economyand a just administration? I know, indeed, that this doctrine isconsidered offensive; nor am I prepared to say with confidence that underthe wide construction which has been given to the law against conspiracy, persons who were to combine to force such a change by abstaining from allexciseable articles might not be indicted for it as a conspiracy. Itmay, for aught that I know, be even indictable to unite and desist fromusing tea, tobacco and snuff to coerce the government into reform by areduction of the revenue raised from those articles; but you are notsitting there to try an indictment for a conspiracy; and, therefore, though this passage may not be pleasing, I read it, without hesitation, because it leads to others, which I think demand your consideration andattention. "We must deny ourselves, he proceeds to say, those littleluxuries in which we have long indulged. Why not? Who gains, and wholoses by this denial? We do not rob ourselves, we only check ourpassions; and, in doing this, we strengthen both our bodies and ourpurses. I would appeal to those, who, for the last year, have had thecourage and the virtue to abstain from the use of malt and spirituousliquors, foreign tea and coffee, tobacco, snuff, &c. , whether they do notfeel satisfaction from the change of habit; and whether they are notbetter in health and pocket, without the use of these things. " This, gentlemen, is a sermon on temperance, and I wish it were generallyfollowed. I apprehend that this is not only innocent, but highlymeritorious. For my own part I shall maintain the opinion (though tenthousand Mandevilles should write, and imagine they have proved privatevices public benefits) that it is infinitely more important andbeneficial that the mass of the people should be temperate and healthy, though poor, than that an immense revenue should be collected from theiraddiction to sensual pleasures and vicious luxuries. I say vicious, because all moral writers concur in calling those sensualities vices, asfree indulgence in them leads to a state of total dissipation of mindunder which scarcely any profligacy seems a crime. The writer continues:"There are a variety of other things which are heavily excised, the useof which might be prudently dropped; and which are not essential eitherto the health or comfort of mankind. Speaking for myself, I can say, Ido not recommend more than I practise; and that my food for the last yearhas consisted chiefly of milk and bread and raw native fruits. I havebeen fatter and stronger than in any former year of my life; and I feelas if I had obtained a new system by the change. _My natural dispositionis luxurious_, and under a better system of government, or when thisrational warfare was not called for, I should at all times live up to myincome. " And here, gentlemen, I beg you to mark, that so unreserved, somuch in earnest is the writer in his object, that he does not attempteven to conceal his own faults, and weakness. I ask, whether you haveever found men, who were acting and writing with duplicity and sinisterintentions, reproach or expose themselves? But the writer of this paperpractises no reserve; he conceals nothing, though the disclosure shouldbe against himself, but Pours out all himself as plain, As dowright Shippen, or as old Montaigne. He concludes this exhortation to temperance with this sentence, "Shrinknot then you male and female reformers from this virtuous mode ofwarfare; for to conquer our injurious habits and our enemy at the sametime is a double conquest, to obtain which both man and woman and childcan very properly assist. " I read this conclusion of the paragraph, gentlemen, and I beg your attention to it, because it makes it manifestthat the change which the writer proposes to compass is a change by amoral operation through legal and peaceful means; and that he neverdreamed of inculcating, as it is insinuated, any appeal to violence andarms. I have now, gentlemen, concluded all the particular observations which Ihad to address you upon this paper; and having shown you that by theleast liberal construction, no criminality of intention can be imputed tothe author, how can I doubt of your acquittal? For it is your duty toconstrue the author's words so as to give them an innocent meaning ifthey will bear it, and not come to a conclusion of guilt from them unlessyou shall be convinced that they will not possibly admit of any otherthan a criminal sense. That he had no criminal design, is apparentenough, even from the indicted passages; and by reading the context isput beyond the possibility of a doubt. There are many other passages aswell as that, which I have read, which tend equally to the inference ofthe sincerity with which the whole paper was written, but which I willnot consume your time in reading, as you will have the whole before youwhen you deliberate on your verdict, and they must themselves strike yourattention. Now, gentlemen, I cannot tell, how you feel, but I have no opinion moredeeply impressed on my mind than that the prosecution of such politicalpapers as this before you, as state libels, is perfectly unnecessary;and, so far from doing good, is, if any mischief can be produced by suchwritings, mischievous. Prosecution excites the public regard, and acuriosity that will not rest till it is gratified, towards that which, under silent neglect, would hardly gain attention; if indeed, it did notdrop quite dead-born from the press. But I deny wholly that anypolitical writings, whatever their nature, have done or ever could do anyharm to political society. Let those who advocate the contrary opinionshow you a single instance of a state injured or destroyed byinflammatory political writings. The republic of Athens was not throwndown by libels: no--she perished for want of that widely diffusedexcitement to courage, and patriotism, and virtue, which a pressperfectly free and unshackled can alone spread throughout a whole people. She was not ruined by anarchy into which she was thrown by seditiouswritings, but because, sunk in luxury and enervated by refinement, it wasimpossible to rouse the Athenians to the energy and ardour of facing andwithstanding the enemy in the field. Rome too--as little was hergigantic power levelled with the dust by libels, but perished from thecorruptions of the tyrannical government of the Emperors, which drainedthe nation of all its ancient virtue, and bred the slavery which producesan utter debasement of the mind (and which never could have been, if afree publication of political opinion had been suffered), and thus shefell an easy conquest and prey to the barbarians and Goths. Both theserenowned states fell, because their governments and the people wanted thegoad of a free press to excite them to that public spirit and virtue, without which no country is capable of political independence andliberty. How our ears have been dinned with the French revolution, andhow often have we been gravely told, that it was caused by the writingsof Voltaire, Rousseau, and Helvetius. Ridiculous! I have read thehistory of those times and have read it very differently. I am forced tounderstand that the inextricable and utter embarrassment of the Frenchfinances, the selfish and insolent luxury of the nobles, the desperatewretchedness of the lower orders of the people, and the profligatelicentiousness of the Court, were the causes and the only causes of thatgreat event. If the finances of that country had been in order, thenobles moderate, the poor unoppressed, and any public spirit in theGovernment, Voltaire, and Helvetius, and Rousseau, might have rackedtheir brains for thought, and written themselves blind, before they wouldhave raised a single arm, or even excited a single voice to exclaim forchange. A perfect freedom of the press would, indeed, have prevented thecauses which roused the people to assert themselves; but the causes oncein existence, all the writers in the world could not one moment haveeither retarded the revolution or accelerated it. It is not therepresentations of a political writer that can alter the nature ofthings. Whose ingenuity, and wit, and eloquence, will persuade me that Iam cold when I am warm; that I am hungry when I am full; a slave when Iam free; and miserable, when I feel myself happy? While such is mystate, what writings would drive me into insurrection? And if thecontrary is my condition, what stimulus could I want to free myself fromit? What persuasions could possibly even delay my utmost efforts for achange? It is not by the prosecution of political libels that thestability of a government and domestic peace is ever secured. No; letthe Government pursue its only end, the public good, and let every man, or at least a large majority, have more or less an interest in thepreservation of the State, and then all the writers in the country, fromthe highest down to the obscurest corners of Grub-Street, may wear theirfingers to the roots of the nails with their pens, before they will workthe slightest discontent in the public or change in the government. Nothing, gentlemen, is more common with writers and speakers, than todiscourse of states by figures drawn from the government of a ship; and Iwill tell you what I once heard from a friend of mine who has served hiscountry in our navy, and which at the time most forcibly struck my mind. "When I was stationed in the Mediterranean (he said, speaking of theoccurrences of his professional experience) we made captures of thevessels of all countries except the Greeks, but we never captured them;for they were always vigilant, active, and brave. We never surprisedthem; if we chased them, they escaped us; and if we attempted to cut themfrom the shelter to which we had driven them, we were repulsed. " Whatcreated this difference? By the rules of navigation amongst the Greekislands, every man, from the captain down to the lowest cabin-boy, has, more or less, a share in the vessel. They watched, therefore, --theylaboured and fought for their own interest and property. Let those whosit at the helm and govern us imitate this policy. Let them extend theelective franchise; let them restore us to a condition in which industryand skill may find employment and be secure in their gain. Give men aninterest and ownership in the state, and it shall never be upset bylibels; not a seditious or mutinous voice shall be heard; and whatforeign enemy shall dare to lift a hand against us? But keep the peopleexcluded from their share in the representation, and pressed down bytaxation, and millions of prosecutions against libels will not save thecountry from sinking in ruin. Let me now, gentlemen, call your attention back to the argument I usedalmost at setting out in my address to you, by which I attempted tomaintain that you are not bound, whatever you may judge the intention ofthe writer to have been, to pronounce a publication a libel by yourverdict, if you should be of opinion that such a publication cannot bemischievous, and that prosecution of it is unnecessary. If it can do noharm, it is no nuisance at common law to have written a paper, whateverits nature may be, and if it could be no nuisance, you are bound in dutyto acquit the defendant, who is only the publisher. The doctrine forwhich I am contending with regard to this paper, has been acted upon bythe government of one free country, with regard to all politicalwritings, whatever their intention or nature. The Legislature of theState of Virginia has actually _legislated against_ such prosecutions, and declared them totally unnecessary. Mr. Justice BEST. --That is not the law of this country. Mr. COOPER. --I only use it my Lord as part of my speech in argument. Mr. Justice BEST. --I will tell you what I am bound to tell the jury. Ishall tell them that we have nothing to do here with what may beexpedient, we are not legislating here--the question is whether this is aproper prosecution? Mr. COOPER. --I feel that it is exceedingly important to use as matter ofargument, and as a part of my speech. If your Lordship stops me I knowthat it will be my duty to submit. Mr. Justice BEST. --All this is only drawing them away from the questionthey are to consider. With the propriety of instituting the prosecutionthey have nothing to do; the only questions they have to determine, are--Is that paper a libel, and has the defendant published it? An Actof the Assembly of Virginia has no validity in this country. Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I do not cite it as a statute of this realm towhich we are bound to pay legal attention-- Mr. Justice BEST. --We are bound to pay no attention to it. Mr. COOPER. --My Lord, I only use it to show that other men have been ofthe opinion which I have expressed to your Lordship and the jury. Ifyour Lordship insists on my not addressing myself to the jury upon it, Iknow too well the deference that is due from me to the Bench to perseverein attempting it. Mr. Justice BEST. --No, I don't insist upon it. But, Mr. Cooper, can youdeceive yourself so much as to think this has anything to do with thequestion? I shall tell the jury to pay no attention to it. Mr. COOPER. --Your Lordship will make any observations your condescensionmay lead you to make, as well on this as on any other part of thedefence. I believe the course which I wish to take was taken on asimilar occasion by a man who united the soundest and correctest judgmentwith the brightest imagination--I mean Lord Erskine--he-- Mr. Justice BEST. --I knew him for thirty odd years at the bar, and Inever in all my life knew him address himself to points such asthese--that is all I can say. I know what is due to the liberty of thebar, and I shall cherish a love for its freedom to the latest hour of mylife. Mr. COOPER. --If your lordship refuses me-- Mr. Justice BEST. --No, I don't refuse you. Mr. COOPER. --I think it necessary to my case. The preambleis--(gentlemen, I am sorry to detain you, but I have a most importantduty to discharge. If in addressing you, I am taking a course which Iought not, I assure you it is an error of judgment and not of design. Ideclare most sincerely, that I am addressing to you arguments which Ishould attend to if they were addressed to myself in such a case. HisLordship will have a right to make what observations he pleases, and ofcourse I offer this and every other argument to you liable to the honourhe may confer upon me of condescending to notice anything I have said ormay say. You, gentlemen, will, I know, regard my observations orarguments solely as you think them forcible or weak; if they are theformer you will attend to them, if the latter reject them. And with thisobservation I shall now proceed to read to you the preamble to the Act ofthe Legislative Assembly of Virginia. ) "It is time enough for the rightful purposes of Civil Government, for its officers to interfere when principles break out into overt acts against peace and good order, and that truth is great and will prevail if left to herself, and that she is the proper and sufficient antagonist to error, and has nothing to fear from the conflict, unless, by human interposition disarmed of her natural weapons, free argument and debate: errors ceasing to be dangerous, when it is permitted freely to contradict them. " Thus, you see, by an Act of the Legislature of that country, passed bythose who had all the knowledge of history before their eyes, and ampleexperience in their own times, I am fully supported in the position thatprosecutions of this kind are not only useless but hurtful. By freeargument and debate errors cease to be dangerous, if they are notexploded; but attempts to stifle even errors by power and punishment, provoke a stubborn adherence to them, and awake an eager spirit ofpropagation. If erroneous positions are published, meet them byargument, and refutation must ensue. If falsehood uses the press topromulge her doctrines, let truth oppose her with the same weapon. Letthe press answer the press, and what is there to fear? Shall I be toldthat the propensity of human nature is so base and evil that it willlisten to falsehood and turn a deaf ear to truth? To assert so is notonly scandalous to human nature, but impious towards the Creator. We areplaced here imperfect indeed, and erring; but still with preponderance ofvirtue over vice. The Deity has sent us from his hands with qualitiesfitting us for civil society: it is our natural state; and we know thatcivil society is sapped by vice and supported by virtue: if, therefore, our disposition to good did not redound over the evil a state of societycould not be maintained. It would indeed be an impiety little short ofblasphemy to the great Being who has created us, to say, that mankind atlarge are eagerly inclined to what is vicious, but turn with aversionfrom what is moral and good. Yet this, whatever they may avow, must bethe opinion of those who say that good doctrine from the press cannot beleft with safety to oppose bad. Now, gentlemen, not only am I not without the corroboration of thisenactment of the Legislature of Virginia for my humble opinions, but theAct of Virginia is itself not without the very highest human sanction, asI shall show you by a passage which I am about to cite from the work of aman, with whom, in my mind, the writings of all other men are but as theill-timed uninformed prattlings of children--a man from whom to differ inopinion is but another phrase to be wrong. Need I, after this, name him?for was there ever more than one man who could be identified with such adescription? I mean Locke, the great champion of civil freedom. In thiswork on government he says-- "Perhaps it will be said, that the people being ignorant and always discontented, to lay the foundations of government in the unsteady 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. To this I answer, quite the contrary, people are not so easy got out of their old forms as some are apt to suggest; they are hardly to be prevailed with to amend the acknowledged faults in the frame they have been accustomed to, and if there be any original defects or adventitious ones introduced by time or corruption, it is not an easy thing to be changed, even where all the world sees there is an opportunity for it. This slowness and aversion in the people to quit their old constitutions has in the many revolutions which have been seen in this kingdom still kept us to, or, after some intervals of fruitless attempts, still brought us back again to our old legislature of King, Lords and Commons. " Such is the opinion of this greatest of men, formed on the mostconsummate wisdom, enriched by observation, during times which affordedno small degree of experience. Upon his authority, then, that men arenot to be excited to sudden discontent, and passion for hasty change, Iassert, that there is no danger to be apprehended from the freestpolitical discussions; and consequently no need of their condemnation bya jury's verdict of Guilty. Milton, too, the greatest of poets, and hardly less a politician, was ofthe same sentiment as to the firmness of the people, and thought it mightsafely be left to them to read what they pleased, and to their reason anddiscretion, what to object and what to adopt, without any otherinterference. It is his Areopagitica, in which he contends forunlicensed printing--an oration addressed from his closet to theParliament of England, and which has been cited by Lord Mansfieldhimself, on the bench. His words are--"Nor is it to the common peopleless than a reproach; for if we be so jealous of them that we cannottrust them with an English pamphlet, what do we but censure them for agiddy, vicious and ungrounded people? That this is care or love of themwe cannot pretend. " Such are the sentiments of Milton, in that noble effort of unitedargument and eloquence, which I should not fear to hold up against themost splendid orations of antiquity. Having thus, I submit, made good my position, that political papers, whatever their description, can produce no mischief, and that there is noneed to prosecute them; I will now show you, that not only canpublications, containing false opinions, do no mischief, but that theyactually produce benefit, and that therefore not they, but theprosecutions, which would check, and stifle them are injurious. Is itmeant to be contended that error is stronger than truth; folly morepowerful than reason, and irreligion than religion? No man, in hissenses, will maintain such propositions. On the contrary, error hasalways been dispersed before reason, and infidelity by religion. Theappearance of error and falsehood has always roused Truth to rise to thework of refutation. Even the sublime truths of religion have never beenso completely demonstrated, and conviction and faith have never been sofirmly fixed in the minds of men as by those books of controversy whichhave been drawn forth by attacks upon Christianity; and which, but forthe publications denying the authenticity of the religion, would neverhave been in existence; but, invaluable as they are, the world must havewanted them. As to political writings, is it not notorious, that thevery best expositions of the nature of civil society and government, aresolely to be ascribed to the conflicts of reason with the false andloathsome doctrines of passive obedience and divine indefeasible right, which found their way into the world by the freedom of publication? Eventhat great work, the treatise of Locke on Government, itself, which isjustly regarded as the political Bible (I mean no irreverence) ofEnglishmen, would never have seen the light, but that it was written torefute the base and detestable tenets of Barclay and Filmer. Theirpolitical treatises were false and slavish, and even illegal; for theywere the same for which Dr. Sacheverel was afterwards impeached by theParliament; and which he would not have been if it had not been anoffence to maintain and publish such opinions. Yet were not theirfalsehoods and errors useful and beneficial? Did they not provoke Locketo rise in all the majesty and strength of truth and cast down Filmer andhis doctrines into the lowest abyss of contempt, never again to emerge?See, now, if the government of those days had prosecuted Barclay andFilmer, and suppressed their books by power instead of leaving them to bedemolished by reasoning, what would have been the consequence? Themighty mind of Locke would not have been called into action, and thetotal refutation and utter explosion of Filmer would not have beeneffected. By criminal prosecutions the odious positions would only havebeen suppressed for a time, not as they now are, extinguished for ever;and the base and degrading doctrines of passive obedience and divineright, which are the stigma of the times in which they prevailed, mighthave been the disgrace and reproach of ours. But supposing that prosecutions for political writings were in anyrespect politic, useful, or wise, will they prevent their publication? Nomore than your strong and violent revenue laws have been able to suppressthe rise of illicit stills in Ireland and Scotland. Even if by dint ofthe terror of prosecutions the press in this city could be reduced tosuch awe and subjection, that everything that issued from it was as flatand unmeaning as the most arbitrary government could desire, itsinhabitants would still gratify their thirst for political discussion andinformation. They would compose and print as they distil, in the depthof deserts and the solitude of mountains, and under the cover of darknessdrop the pamphlets into the houses, or scatter them in the streets, andthe obstacles to circulation will serve only to inflame the desire forpossession. This would be the result of a determination to suppresseverything in the shape of political discussion that did not please thehumour of a set of men in authority, while by far the greater part if notall those publications which inspire so much apprehension, would ifpassed in silence either never be noticed, or read their hour andforgotten. It is these public trials that give them importance andnotoriety. They would not draw an eye but for the glare thrown on themby these luminous prosecutions. These indictments (though I would notwillingly be ludicrous on so serious an occasion) force into my mind thecourse once adopted with regard to houses of ill-fame, by the Society forthe Suppression of Vice. They paid men who were fixed before the doorsof such houses with huge paper lanterns, on which there was painted inlarge illuminated letters, "This is a house of bad fame. " But, insteadof causing a desertion of the houses, they operated as an advertisementand an allurement, and increased the numbers who resorted to them. Thosewho had before frequented them did not discontinue their visits, andthose who were ignorant of such places and seeking them, on seeing theemblazonment by the doors, cried out--that is just what we wanted, andturned in. The society at last discovered their mistake. They foundthat they were encouraging what they wished to abolish, and discontinuedthe plan. My learned friend, who is counsel for the society, can confirmme when I assert that they do not now carry it into practice. Preciselythe operation that these lanterns had with regard to houses of ill-fame, have these trials upon obnoxious writings. They are illuminated by therays which are shed on them by these proceedings. They attract everyeye, and are read in the light (as it were) of the notoriety which isthus thrown upon them by these prosecutions. Gentlemen, it just occurs to my recollection, that I have omitted in itsproper place something which I ought to have mentioned, and urged to you, and I beg your indulgence to supply the omission. You will remember thatin one of the passages charged as libelous, the words "I will not, now, say a word about insurrection" are to be found, and my learned friend, Mr. Gurney, suggested to you that it was an excitement, at some futureperiod, to insurrection. I, gentlemen, repeat that these words are notonly no excitement to insurrection, but an express disavowal of it. Ifyou infer that he means insurrection at any future time, you must alsosuppose that the insurrection he contemplates is conditional, and inspeculation of conduct in the government that may justify it. Is thereany extrinsic evidence to show that he means something beyond the words?None--and the words themselves are a literal disclaimer of any intentionof insurrection. And it is by the words then that you will judge of hisdesign, and not take it from the vague and partial declamation of thecounsel for the prosecution, whose opinions ought no more than my own, tohave any weight with you, except as they are supported by reason. If youcan find any such meaning as an intention to excite insurrection in thewords, so much the worse for the defendant; but, if you cannot, and I amsure you cannot, then you will not hesitate to adjudge the wordsinnocent. What! may not I, or any man, say there is no occasion forinsurrection at this moment, but there may be at a future time? GoodGod! are there no possible situations in which resistance to a governmentwill be justifiable? There have been such situations, and may again. Surely there may be. Why, even the most vehement strugglers forindefeasible right and passive obedience have been forced (afterinvolving themselves in the most foolish inconsistencies, and after themost ludicrous shuffling in attempting to deny it) to admit, that theremay be such a conjuncture. They have tried to qualify the admissionindeed--admitted, and then retracted--then admitted again, and thendenied in the term, what they admitted in the phrase, till, as you shallsee, nothing ever equalled the absurdity, and ridiculousness of the_rigmarole_ into which they fell, in their unwillingness to confess, whatthey were unable to deny. Yes, gentlemen, there are situations in whichinsurrection against a government is not only legal, but a duty and avirtue. The period of our glorious revolution was such a situation. Whenthe bigot, James, attempted to force an odious superstition on the peoplefor their religion, and to violate the fundamental laws of the realm, Englishmen owed it to themselves, they owed it to millions of theirfellow-creatures, not only in this country, but all over the world; theyowed it to God who had made them man to rise against such a government;and cast ruin on the tyrant for the oppression and slavery which hemeditated for them. Locke, in the work from which I have already citedto you, in the chapter entitled, "On Dissolution of Government, " contendswith Barclay, an advocate for divine right and passive obedience, andrefutes him on this very question, and proves that subjects may use forceagainst tyranny in governments. He cites Barclay who wrote in Latin, butI read to you from the translation. "Wherefore if the king shall be guilty of immense and intolerable cruelty not only against individuals but against the body of the state, that it is the whole people, or any large part of the people, in such a case indeed it is competent to the people to resist and defend themselves from injury, but only to defend themselves, not to attack the prince, and only to repair the injury they have received; not to depart, on account of the injury received from the reverence which they owe him. When the tyranny is intolerable (for we ought always to submit to a tyranny in a moderate degree) the subject may resist with reverence. " In commenting on this passage, Mr. Locke, mixes with his reasonings theridicule it deserves:--"'He (that is Barclay) says, it must be withreverence. ' How to resist force without striking again, or how to strikewith reverence, will need some skill to make intelligible. He that shalloppose an assault only with a shield to receive the blow, or in any morerespectful posture without a sword in his hand, to abate the confidenceand force of the assailant will quickly be at the end of his resistance, and will find such a defence serve only to draw on him the worse usage:this is as ridiculous a way of resisting, as Juvenal thought of fighting, 'Ubi tu _pulsas_, ego _vapulo_ tantum, ' and the result of the combat willbe unavoidably the same as he there describes it. Libertas paupcris haec est. _Pulsatus_ rogat, et _pugnis_ concisus adorat, Ut _liceat_ paucis cum dentibus inde _reverti_. "'This is the liberty of the slave: when beaten and bruised with blows, he requests and implores as a favour to be allowed to depart with somefew of his teeth. ' This will always be the event of such an imaginaryresistance, when men may not strike again. He, therefore, who may resistmust be allowed to strike. And then let our author, or anybody else, join a knock on the head, or a cut on the face, with as much reverenceand respect as he thinks fit. He that can reconcile blows and reverencemay, for aught I know, deserve for his pains, a civil respectfulcudgeling whenever he can meet with it. " So much, gentlemen, for the doctrine of non-resistance. Therefore theauthor of this paper in stating that there may be times when insurrectionmay be called for, has done no more than a hundred other writers, andamong them Locke, have done before him. Locke proceeding still with the discussion of the question, whetheroppressive governments may be opposed by the people, and, havingconcluded in the affirmative, says, "But here the question may be made, who shall be judge whether the prince or legislature act contrary totheir trust. This, perhaps, ill affected and factious men may spreadamong the people, when the prince only makes use of his just prerogative. To this, I reply, the people shall be judge; for who shall be judgewhether the trustee or deputy acts with and according to the trust thatis reposed in him, but he who deputes him, and must, by having deputedhim, have still a power to discard him when he fails in his trust. Ifthis be reasonable in particular cases of private men, why should it beotherwise in that of the greatest moment when the welfare of millions isconcerned, and also when the evil if not prevented is greater, and theredress very dear, difficult, and dangerous. " Locke, therefore, most unambiguously concludes that insurrection may bejustified and necessary. A greater and more important truth does notexist, and we owe its promulgation with such freedom and boldness to thatmost extraordinary and felicitous conjuncture at the revolution whichcalled upon us to support a king against a king, and obliged us toexplode (as has been done most completely) the divine right and passiveobedience under which one king claimed, to maintain the legal title ofthe other. Locke goes on further to say-- "This question, who shall be supreme judge? cannot mean that there is nojudge at all. For where there is no judicature on earth to decidecontroversies among men, God in heaven is judge. But every man is tojudge for himself, as in all other cases, so in this, whether anotherhath put himself in a state of war with him, and whether, as Jeptha did, he should appeal to the Supreme Judge. " I beg that I may not be misinterpreted, I hope it will not be said I meanto insinuate that any circumstances at present exist to justifyinsurrection. I protest against any such inference. Nothing can befurther from my thoughts, and I regret that such an extravagant mode ofconstruing men's words should be in fashion, as to render such a cautionon my part needful. All I say is, that the writer of this paper spoke ofinsurrection conditionally, and prospectively only, and, in doing so, hasdone no more than Locke, in other terms had done before him. Gentlemen, I have but a very few more arguments to address to you, and Iam glad of it, for I assure you, you cannot be more exhausted in patiencethan I am in strength. I now, gentlemen, ask you even admitting that the _style_ and manner, inwhich the opinions of the writer of this address are expressed, shouldverge upon intemperance and impropriety, would you venture, merely uponthe ground of such a defect in style, to say the defendant is guilty;when the very same opinions in substance, expressed in a different style, would be innocent and legal, and unquestionable? Gentlemen, I have heardit asserted, with a surprise that I cannot express, that if persons willwrite in a moderate, delicate, temperate, and refined style they maydiscuss questions which become exceptionable and forbidden if they arehandled in a coarse and illiberal style. Now I should have thought, thatthe very reverse of this would have been the case; for by a refined andguarded style you may insinuate and persuade--by vulgar coarseness andintemperance you disgust and nauseate. To say that a political paper ofthe very same sentiments, and principles would be innocent, written in acalm and delicate style which would be criminal, written in an abrupt, vehement and passionate manner, is to remove guilt from the thought andconception and substance of a writing, and impute it to the medium onlyof the thought, the mere expression. So that upon such a rule andprinciple of decision, if I were to heap violent and gross abuse even onAbershaw, or any other highwayman, who was deservedly hanged a hundredyears ago, I might actually be indicted for a libel. Such a course, gentlemen, would be to degrade your judgments from a decision upon thethought, and opinions (which, are alone important) of an author to acriticism and condemnation of his words, and would be waging war with thevocabulary and the dictionary, a degradation, to which I trust, yourreason will never submit. A difference of style in political writings ismuch too refined and subtle to found a distinction upon between innocenceand crime. Difference of style is so minute, and is a subject of suchnice discrimination, that it would not only be difficult, but almostimpossible, and most unsafe for any jury to attempt by it to draw a linebetween guilt and innocence; besides, what would be the effect upon thepress? If I were told, when I sat down to write upon any topic, that Imust treat it in a given style, and no other, or risk prosecution, Ishould be confounded, and throw down my pen without writing at all. Atleast I should either not write at all, or write in such a manner that Imight as well not have written at all, for I should most certainly neverbe read. Good God! to leave a man the alternative of a particular style, or an indictment for a libel, when he sat down to compose, would be likeplacing a torpedo on his hand; for you cannot, as was most forcibly, andbeautifully said by Lord Erskine, "expect men to communicate their freethoughts to one another under the terror of a lash hanging over theirheads;" and again, on another occasion, "under such circumstances, no mancould sit down to write a pamphlet, without an attorney at one elbow, anda counsel at the other. " Gentlemen, if you, sitting coolly anddispassionately to give a deliberate judgment upon the manner and styleof an author's composition would find it difficult to form a certainjudgment, how great, how insuperable, must be the difficulty of thewriter himself. How is he when he sits down intent on his subject andwhen vehement and ardent (as he must be, if he is in earnest, and that hemay persuade others of that, which he feels himself) and his ideas arethronging and pressing upon him for expression--how is he to be selectand cautious and measured in his words? Would you not by subjecting thefreedom of political discussion to such a restriction run the hazard ofdestroying it altogether? Upon this question of the difficulty ofdistinguishing between propriety and impropriety in the style of writingsI can not abstain from reading to you a passage from a speech of LordChesterfield, which was quoted by Lord Erskine, when he was at the bar, upon a trial for libel. On that occasion, indeed, Lord Kenyon told him, that he believed it flowed from the pen of Dr. Johnson, and _that_ LordErskine took as a valuable concession; for from the frame of mind andbias of that learned man on political subjects, he was certainly not afriend to popular liberty, while Lord Chesterfield, I believe, actedwithout deviation upon Whig principles, and was a constant advocate forthe freedom of the press. From Dr. Johnson, however, it was mostimportant, as it had the effect of an unwilling admission, and if LordKenyon was correct in attributing the speech to Dr. Johnson, itsexcellence is to be inferred from the fact, that Lord Chesterfield neverdiscountenanced the opinion that he was its author. The passage isthis:-- "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 excrescence--it is a speck upon the eye of the political body: but 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 licentiousness and liberty, that it is not easy to correct the one, without dangerously wounding the other: it is extremely hard to distinguish 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. " Mr. GURNEY. --You should state, in fairness and candour, that that was anargument against licensing. Mr. COOPER. --I know it was. The argument contends for the difficulty, next to impossibility, of distinguishing where that which is allowableends, and that which is licentious begins. A licenser could not tellwhere to allow, and where to object, yet a licenser, gentlemen, wouldhave had just the same means of judging that you possess; and if he couldnot tell with distinctness and certainty what to let pass and what tostop, how, with no greater power, and means of judgment, can you? Withwhat justice, then, can it be objected to me, that I have shown any wantof candour in not stating the precise question on which the argument wasdelivered, when in the principle there is not a shadow of difference? Myapplication of the passage is therefore perfectly just. Gentlemen, I have only one more quotation to trouble you with before Iconclude. That is the opinion of Lord Loughborough, afterwardsChancellor of England. I do not know in what case, or on what occasionit was delivered, but I believe in a judgment on a case of libel. "Everyman (says that judge) may publish at his discretion, his opinionsconcerning forms and systems of government. _If they be weak andabsurd_, _they will be laughed at and forgotten_; _and_, _if they be_bona fide, _they cannot be criminal_, _however erroneous_. " This is the opinion of a great judge upon political publications, sittingunder the authority of the king himself to administer the laws; and toapply this authority to the paper before you, what reason on earth haveyou to suppose, that the writer from the beginning to the end was notbona fide in his opinions; and then, however erroneous they may be, Isay, under the sanction of Lord Loughborough himself, they are notcriminal. Having, gentlemen, submitted these observations to you, I declare mostunfeignedly that I have uttered them with the most conscientious belief, that they are founded in reason, justice, and truth. I have not advanceda proposition nor uttered a sentiment as an advocate, which I am notprepared to avow and maintain as a man. If I am wrong in my judgment, you will correct me. You will, however, consider my reasonings, and thepassages which I have cited to you in support of them, and judge if Ihave not maintained the propositions, which I have submitted to you. No argument can be drawn from any of the observations, which I haveaddressed to you for impunity to libelers and defamers of privatecharacter. No, they are justly called assassins; for they who destroythat without which life is worthless are as guilty as those who destroylife itself, and let them feel the heaviest vengeance of the law. Privatepersons may be attacked and have no power to defend themselves. They maynot only be unable themselves to answer published calumnies against theircharacter; but also unable to employ those who can. But such can neverbe the case with those who administer the affairs of the nation. All thewealth and power of the country is in their hands. They may hire athousand writers to support their measures, and vindicate theircharacters, and they will not want volunteers; they can command thepress; and, for their protection, it is sufficient, that the press shouldbe opposed to the press. Private individuals cannot command the press;and, therefore, let slanderers of private character suffer the utmostpunishment that the law can inflict. And now, gentlemen, I ask you to give me your verdict for the defendant. I make no attempt to move your compassion. I will not urge you toconsider that the defendant is a woman, and unable, from the tendernessof her sex, to sustain hardship; nor call upon you to remember, thatwhich you cannot but know, that she has already been convicted upon oneprosecution, for which she will, without doubt, be the subject of severepunishment. I ask it on the higher ground of justice; though, I confess, that I hope and wish it with more anxiety, because I trust it will sendthese embodied prosecutors, this Constitutional Association, as (by thefigure, I suppose, of _lucus a non lucendo_) they entitle themselves, into that obscurity to which they properly belong, or at least if theywill obtrude further upon the impatience of the public, let them carrywith them the ill omen of a failure in their first attempt to insinuate, either that the English Constitution is deficient in its establishment ofresponsible law officers of the crown, or that those officers areincapable of fulfilling the duties of their station. It is said, and Ihope truly, that the country is gradually recovering from the distress, under which it has so long suffered, and that plenty and prosperity haveagain begun to flow in upon us. May it be so! but we shall never deriveenjoyment from any improvement in our physical condition; unless it isaccompanied with domestic tranquillity. To be happy we must be at peaceamongst ourselves; and nothing will have the effect of allaying the heart-burnings of political animosity and uniting us, as it were, in bands ofharmonious brotherhood, so much as a discouragement of these partyprosecutions, which, while they kindle feelings of indignation, andhostility, and hatred in large numbers of the people, are of no generalbenefit to the state. Fling back this prosecution, then, in the faces ofthose who have instituted it; and, instead of sending this unfortunatewoman to a prison, send her back by your verdict of acquittal to thechildren of her brother, who, deprived (in the manner you know) both oftheir father and mother, are as much orphans as they would be by theirdeath; and who, sordid and neglected in her absence, are requiring hercare. And, what is more, you will, by your verdict of Not Guilty, givesecurity to the free expression of public opinion, compose ourdissensions, and protect both yourselves and posterity; since in callingon you to acquit the defendant, I call on you to protect the freedom ofthe press, and with it the freedom of the country; for unless the pressis preserved, and preserved inviolate, the political liberties ofEnglishmen are lost. Mr. Justice BEST. --It was his duty to call back the attention of the juryto the question which they were to try. A number of observations hadbeen made relative to what had taken place in Virginia, but which hadnothing to do with the verdict which they were to give. One observationhad been made, in the propriety of which he perfectly agreed, which wasthat they would dismiss from their minds all prejudices. The learnedcounsel for the defendant seemed to think that the name of Carlile wassufficient to create prejudices. If that were the case, he hoped thejury would forget that the present defendant was of that name. They hadnothing now to do but to exercise their judgment upon the facts beforethem. The jury were told, and truly told, that they were the judges asto whether this was a libel or not. The statute gave the jury the powerof finding a general verdict; but they still were bound under thesanction of their oaths to find it according to law. He should give hisopinion, and the jury were at liberty to differ with him; but he must begin the most distinct terms to state that the jury or the court hadnothing to do with the propriety or impropriety of these prosecutions, orwith the association by which the prosecution had been instituted. Forhis own part he did not know by whom it had been instituted until he hadbeen requested by the defendant to ask the jurors as they went into thebox, whether or not they were members of that association. The twoquestions to be decided were, first, Was this pamphlet a libel? andsecondly, Was the defendant the publisher? They must lay out of theirconsideration acts of parliament passed in Virginia. The principles laiddown in the preamble of the act alluded to, might be a good principle forAmerica, but he was bound to tell them that it was not law in England. Inthe book quoted from by the learned gentlemen, it was said "how wretchedmust be the state of society in a country where the laws were uncertain;"and that must be the case where the jury take into consideration thepropriety or impropriety of laws. In his opinion this publication waslibelous, and if the jury were not satisfied of the contrary, the safercourse would be for the jury to agree in opinion with one who must bepresumed to be acquainted with the law, and who gives that opinion uponhis oath. No man could be a more ardent admirer than he of the press, tothe freedom of which Europe was principally indebted for its happiness;and God forbid that he should do anything which would for a momentextinguish that liberty! The learned counsel for the defendant had said, that the libel upon a private individual was a species of moralassassination. It was odd that an individual could not be libeled withimpunity, and yet that society might be set by the ears. The governmentwere equally protected with all others against the malevolence andvirulence of the press. He would again repeat, but he would say nothingas to what the law ought to be, but he stated what it was. What heconceived to be the true liberty of the press was this, that any manmight, without permission, publish what he please, if he were responsiblefor what he might publish. It might be asked, then is a man answerablefor every expression? To that he would answer, no; if a man's intentionwere to convince the people that the government was not acting right, hehad a right to publish his opinions; and if some sparks should fly outbeyond decorum when the real apparent object was to instruct, theexpressions ought not to be visited with punishment. But men must not gofarther than instruct: they must not say that the system of government isa system of tyranny; which meant nothing more than that the people oughtto pull down such systems. The learned counsel had alluded to Athens andRome, but it was well known that those States punished offences of thisdescription with greater severity than the laws of England inflicted. Every man had a right to point out with firmness, but with respect, theerrors of government. Every man has a right to appeal to theunderstanding, but not to the passions; and the man who wished to do soneed not be afraid to write. The distinction between fair discussion andlibel was this, that one was an appeal to the passions, and the other tothe understanding. If the jury were of opinion that this pamphlet was anaddress to the people of the country, to induce them by legal andconstitutional means to procure a redress of grievances, then they wouldacquit the defendant; but, if on the other hand, they should be ofopinion that the intention was to appeal to prejudices and passions (ashe thought) it was their bounden duty, whatever they might think of thepropriety or impropriety of the prosecution, to return a verdict ofguilty. He next felt it his duty to remark upon the passages in therecord, and if the learned gentleman had gone through the pamphlet, hewould have found in the next page, in which the writer said, that themaking and administration of laws was corrupt, a sufficient explanationof what was intended by the sentence, "to talk of the BritishConstitution, &c. " There was in the country a constitution not like theSpanish Constitution, created in a day; but matured by the sense of ages, altering and adapting it to times and circumstances until it became whatwas a practical and not theoretical system of liberty. The learnedcounsel had made some observations upon what had fallen from LordColchester in the House of Commons; such observations he thoughtirregular, but he permitted them sooner than it should be said that thedefendant, to use a familiar expression, had not "fair play. " He did notwant the authority of Lord Colchester with respect to these corruptions, because he had evidence of it in a case in which he tried twenty-fourpersons for such practices. But was it the meaning of the passage, thatthere was corruption in the House of Commons? No, the expression wasthat the laws (which were corrupt enough to bring to punishment personsguilty of those practices) were corrupt. Was this true? If there wereanything for which this country was more distinguished than another itwas the equity of the laws, and it was for this that the laws of Englandwere extolled by all foreigners. The writer could not mean the boroughof Grampound, or any other borough, when he said that corruption was theoil of the system. When the writer said he did not "at that moment speakof insurrection, " what was his meaning? Why that insurrection would notdo then, but at some future time they might, when satisfied of theirstrength, take advantage of all circumstances. As far as he understoodthe nature of the Manchester and Stockport Rooms they were forinstruction, and if the writer did not go farther, then indeed would thepamphlet be harmless. "Delay some time. " "Have such meetings as thoseat Manchester and Stockport; be assured of your numbers, and you canoverpower the Government. " There could be no doubt that these passageswere libelous. The next question was, whether the defendant had or hadnot published the libel? and it was in evidence that these copies werepurchased at two different times. The jury were not to take intoconsideration the former conviction; and he could assure the jury that nogreater severity would be used than was sufficient to restrain thislicentiousness, which, if not restrained, would overturn this or anyother Government. The revolution recommended by this pamphlet would notbe an ordinary change of masters, but a transfer of property. At about four o'clock the jury retired; and, having returned at quarterbefore five, Mr. Justice BEST said, he had received a communication that they were notlikely to agree; and as they must agree at some time or other, he sentfor them in order to give them any information in his power upon suchpoints as they disagreed upon. A Juror. --The Foreman was rather precipitate in writing to your Lordship;we have not wasted much time, and we are discussing it among ourselves. Mr. Justice BEST. --I am not in a hurry. The Foreman said, there were four of the jurors obstinate, and he wouldwish his Lordship to draw a juror. Mr. Justice BEST. --I have not the power to do so. A Juror. --I throw back the charge of obstinacy in the teeth of theForeman--he is obstinate. Another Juryman. --My Lord there is obstinacy. Second Juryman. --This is invidious; I am not the only one who stands out;there are four of us. The Foreman again expressed his opinion that they should not agree. Mr. Justice BEST. --Gentlemen, you must see the impropriety of this publicdiscussion; you had better retire, and endeavour to agree amongyourselves. The jury again retired, and at eight o'clock desired their families mightbe informed that it was not likely they would return home before themorning. Wednesday, July 25th. This morning the jury were still enclosed without the least chance of anyagreement. A number of persons were in waiting to hear the verdict. Athalf-past nine o'clock, Mr. Justice HOLROYD appeared on the bench, and anintimation was conveyed to his Lordship that there was no probabilitythat the jury would agree. A conference took place between the counsel for the prosecution anddefence who appeared to be both willing to enter a _Noli Prosequi_ anddischarge the jury without a verdict. A gentleman in black (said to be Mr. Longueville Clarke, one of theCommittee of the Constitutional Association, and one of the _StateLocusts_) suddenly started up, and declared that he would not consent tosuch a course. Mr. COOPER (to the man in black). --Are you the attorney for theprosecution, sir? Mr. LONGUEVILLE CLARKE. --No: I am a member of the ConstitutionalCommittee; and _I will_ have a verdict. Mr. COOPER. --However potent, sir, your word might be in the committee-room, it has no power in this Court. Mr. GURNEY, as counsel for the prosecution, in the absence of Mr. MURRAY, the attorney, would take upon himself the responsibility of consenting todischarge the jury. Mr. COOPER, thinking it cruelty to confine the jury any longer wouldyield also to a consent for their discharge. The jury were then sent for, and in their passage to the Court wereloudly and rapturously cheered by the bystanders. Having answered totheir names, Mr. Justice HOLROYD addressed them. --Gentlemen of the jury, I am gladthat it is in my power to relieve you from your present unpleasantsituation. The learned counsel on both sides have consented to dischargeyou without your returning a verdict. The jury then left the Court, and were again loudly cheered in theirpassage through the Hall. Thus ended the first attempt of the Constitutional Association, or theBridge-street Banditti, to get a verdict; particularly important to thecountry--particularly honourable to the counsel for the defendant, andthe honest Jurors who made so noble a stand for the Liberty of thePress--and particularly disgraceful to all parties connected with theprosecution. LONDON:W. & H. S. WARR, Printers, 3, Red Lion Passage, & 63, High Holborn.