statement which both, we are sure, will "be equally ready to deny, and the contra"diction of which is due in justice to his "royal highness. As warm and zealous "advocates for a free press, we lament to "see it abused for the circulation of such impostures, and we think it our first duty to expose and detect them.”. So! This all very fine, Sir; but, if it was your first duty to expose and detect this imposture, how came you to delay the performance of that duty so long? Nay, how came you to give countenance to that imposture, by stating to your readers, that the book was evidently written under the eye of the duke, and must have had the approbation of the king? Be so good as to answer that.-On! you were deceived yourself; you were amongst those whose credulity was imposed upon by this imposture; and, being now undeceived, you wish to undeceive your readers. But, Sir, whence have you drawn the information, which has enabled you to give a "positive contradiction "of all the material facts stated in the pub lication," and to "assure the public that there is not the least foundation for "the statement about an inquiry into the "conduct of his royal highness?" Whence have you drawn this information? Through what channel has this illuminating influence broken in upon you? And how came you, the great oracle of the party to whom you appertain, to have been, until this happy moment, lost in darkness? Truly, if such be the character of your mind; if you are subject to such fits of obscurity of intellect, it will be well for your readers, ere they place reliance upon your statements and opinions, to ascertain with precision the state of the woon.——— -But, Sir, this plea of subsequent information will not, I am sorry to say it, save your credit. For, in both these articles, you give an opinion, nay, you make assertions, not upon hearsay, not upon extraneous information, but (mark it well) upon the internal evidence of the work in question. In the first article you say that it is evident that the duke dictated the work, and that it must have had the king's concurrence. That is to say, the work was of that nature and was so written, that the duke and the king must necessarily be at the bottom of it. Now, then, how do you characterize this same work in your second article? Well may you turn your eyes away from the quotation that you perceive coming! How, I say, do you cha racterize the work which you had, but a few days before, ascribed to the Duke of York and the king? Why, by asserting that it contains " gross and absurd falsehoods in 66 every page." That is to say, taking both your articles together, the duke has evidently dictated and the king must have approved of, a work containing "gross and absurd "falsehoods in every page." Is this, Sir, a specimen of that respect, which you are pleased to profess towards the royal family? -To the assertion, that the falsehoods are gross and absurd you do, indeed, add, that they cannot possibly proceed from any man having any knowledge of what really "has passed respecting the Duke of York ;' and, as the king and the duke must have known what did pass, you thus ward off the charge of imputing the gross and absurd falsehoods to them. But, there is still a difficulty, which you do not seem to have perceived when the loyal fit was upon you; and that is, that the falsehoods, if gross and absurd, must have so appeared to you when you imputed the work to the Duke and the King, or, that you are a person not capable of perceiving falsehoods, however gross and absurd, until they are pointed out to you. You now tell us, that the falsehoods, in every page, are so gross and absurd, that they could not possibly have proceeded from any man having any knowledge of what has really passed respecting the Duke of York. There is an impossibility in the thing. You want no reasoning or facts to convince you of it. You at once sce that it must be so. Yet, only about ten days before, you told me and all the rest of your ardent admirers, that these things, which you now call grosfand absurd falsehoods" had evidently been written under the eye of the duke, had been published under his sanction, and that the work must have had the concurrence of the king! Who is to believe what you say in future? What reliance is to be placed upon your sense or your sincerity? You tell us, in conclusion, that there is no foundation whatever for the assertion, that any such inquiry as that mentioned in the pamphlet, into the conduct of the duke has been, at any time, carried on, at the instigation of one party, or defeated by the protection of the other; and you add, that you are sure. that both parties will be equally ready to contradict the statement of the write. It is possible that you may have received such assurances; it is possible that you may have been ordered to communicate such assurances to the world; but, how are we to believe you? How are we to know, that you will not, at some time hence, flatly contradict what you now say, and call it a gross and absurd falsehood? The truth is, that you, very unwisely, imputed the pamphlet to the duke and the king; you found yourself embarrassed by this hasty imputation; your party have, dare say, censured your want of discretion; and, in this second article, we see you endeavouring to extricate yourself, at the expence of your understanding or your sincerity... When, upon SIR RICHARD PHILLIPS.a former occasion, I had to notice the conduct of this gentleman, as relating to the action for a libel, brought by Sir JOHN CARR. Knight, against Messrs. Hood and Sharpe, for publishing a criticisin upon a work of Sir John's, I had not been informed of many circumstance, which have since come to my knowledge, and which do certainly exhibit Sir Richard in quite another light than that of a man, who would wish to see the principles of freedom cherished in England. It appears, from the report of the Trial, now published at full, and some parts of which report I shall more fully notice hereafter, that Sir Richard was, if not an adviser, at least an approver of the prosecution, a fact, which, had it not been proved in so clear a way, I could not bave believed. What! one bookseller approve of the presecution, or, rather the persecution of another, and that, too, for publishing a criticism upon a work of which he himself was become the proprietor! A near relation of his has, it seems, prosecuted the editors of a catch-penny work called "THE SATIRIST," for a criticism upon a child's book, which those editors represented as having an im moral tendency; and that six-pence damages were obtained. It is further asserted in print, that ir Richard himselt prefered a ill of indictment totsade Satirists 66 for something said by them of him, and that the bill was thrown out. The consequence of all this has been a pretty general feeling of resentment against him, in all those who have any thing to do with the press, and that feeling, so far from having been awed into silence by his endeavours for that purpose, has shewn itself in literary attacks from various quarters and of va rious descriptions, from a two-shilling-andsix-penny pamphlet down to a half-penny ballad. His attention is now drawn from the odious caricature of Sir John Carr to the many, wherein he himself cuts the principal figure. He cannot take up a newspaper without seeing some paragraph or advertisement inviting the reader to a laugh at his expence. The very walls in the streets he sees covered with notifications as to where and when the public may be entertained in the same agreeable way. One author has employed his pen in writing a burlesque account of him, entitled, "Memoirs of the public and private Life of Sir Richard Phillips, Knight: by a Citizen of Lon"don and Assistants." His old friends the Satirists, who, probably, wrote the book for the purpose, have taken it up as a subject to review; have chosen to consider it as a serious statement; and have thus made it a two-edged instrument for the purpose of goading him and his family, no part of whom, whether wite or child, do they spare, though it is not at all improbable, that some of them may have often satisfied their hunger at his table. They go so far as 10 say, that he has been "in the habit of "attaching an alias" to his name, and that he " once went by the name of Philip Richards." The pretended biographer, after relating, that Sir Richard, when he lived at Leicester in the capacity of a hosier, had his premises destroyed by fire, adds, that he had insured his property not many months before, and that, when every one supposed him ruined, he rose like a phoenix from his ashes." Upon this tae Satirists say, by way of note, that in 1795, Sir Richard received £1.500 from the Phoenix fire-office; and they then proceed to complain of the biographer for being silent upon "the supposed cause of the conflagration;" after which they add: "perhaps our bio 66 grapher never heard, that his hero, soon "after the accident, wrote to a friend, "stating to this effect: " that, although "it was very true the fire office had amply remunerated him for his losses, yet, that it was such a glorious opportunity for "taking advantage of the public feelings, "who did not know his promises had been 66 66 "insured, that he intreated him instantly "to promote a subscription in his favour;' and yet we have been told, that such a letter "was written, and is not yet destroyed." As to what these writers say about Lady Phillips, of whom they would evidently have said harm if they could; about Sir Richard's vanity, and other foibles; about his squabbles with authors: these are not worth notice; but, the charges above made, with respect to the name and the fire, as I dare say they can, so perhaps they may, receive a serious contradiction from, and in the name of, the person against whom they are brought. But, above all things, I would advise Sir Richard not again to resort to the law. He has quite enough of means in his own kands wherewith to expose any falsehoods that have been, or may be published against him; and, he may rest assured, that, whatever anger he may feel against the promulgators of those falsehoods, the most effectual way of inflicting punishment on them, is, except in very particular cases, to leave them to that avenging hunger and thirst, to satisfy the cravings of which they have recourse (for the want of talents whereby to attract attention) to any means, however base, of obtaining notoriety. When one contemplates the mean trick to which these men have resorted, in writing a book for the purpose of having it to review, and making the book and the review a puff for each other; and especially when one sees them unnecessarily introducing the wife of the person whom they are assaulting, and who is, in no way whatever, concerned in the transactions of which they complain; when one sees them resort to means of annoyance so very low, it may well be a question with Sir Richard whether he ought to condescend to contradict any of their assertions; for, it must be evident to every man of sense, into whose hands their work may chance to fall, that there is no falsehood at which they will stick. These men have no principle. They hate not any vanity that Sir Richard may have. They hate him because he has a dinnes and shoes, they having neither. They are said to be six or eight authors, whom he has been obliged to discharge for stupidity, a statement strongly corroborated by the superabundance of malice and the plentiful lack of talent, visible in the pretended biographer and in the reviewers of his performance. What, in the name of common sense, had Sir Richard to do with prosecutions of literary vermin like these, who write by the foot, who come to the pay-table of a Saturday night, like weavers or tinkers; whose master must long ago have discharged them had not ir Richard indiscreetly furnished their collection of trash with an interesting topic; and to whom, in all human probability, he would, ere his Shrievalty had been at an end, have had to dole out their daily allowance of water and bread. The generality of readers have not the most distant idea what miserable creatures those are, who are employed to work upon publications of this sort. Their names are cautiously disguised, and that for more reasons than one. Their retreats are more secret, and far more filthy, than those of the fox or the polecat. I would bet the worth of their work, that all the clothes upon all their backs would not sell for fifty shillings. This is precisely that sort of writers, whom Peter Pindar describes as being to be bribed with "buckets of broth and pounds of bullock's "liver." And yet, by creatures like these has Sir Richard Phillips been goaded even to the point of appealing to the law! This is what I dislike. Had he resorted to the horse-whip, the pump, or the horse-pond, why, I should have said, that it was foolish, to be sure, but that men cannot always command their passion. But, to appeal to the law; to do that which might keep in countenance the tools and rogues, who, when properly spoken of, charge the speaker with a crime; to join the band who walk without being spit upon, merely because truth is a libel; to attack that press which he, as well as any man, knows to be at its last gasp; to avail himself of his elevation to mount his brethren with lawyers' spurs. This is what I cannot forgive, and it is what he will repent of to the end of his life.The Trial, in the case of Carr against Messrs. Hood and Sharpe, is one of the most important, nay the most important, that has taken place in my memory, and I am glad to see that it is fully and ably reported. According to the doctrine here laid down, both by the Chief Justice and the Attorney General, one man may, not only innocently, but laudably, ridicule the person and the talents of another. Not only freely examine them and criticise them, but ridicule them. The whole of the Trial is important. I do not mean as an exposure of Carr and Sir Richard Phillips, but as containing the principles of the Judges and the Attorney General respecting libels; and it will be matter of wonder with me, if the Booksellers do not form A FUND for the circulation of it all over the kingdom. An edition might be printed for three-pence each; each bookseller might take a number proportioned to the extent of his business; some copies, or cue at least, might be put into every parcel sent off from every shop; and thus, in the course of a year, every man who can read would have read it. This is no Ioose essay upon the libel-law. It is the practice of the law. It is what the Attorny General and the Chief Justice have said and what they have laid down as law. Towards a fund for this purpose I shall be very happy to contribute my share; for I am cer tain that there has not, for years, any publication appeared calculated to do so much good. ----To fall upon a man already down, or to join in a general outcry, is not my practice; nor have I any desire, in what I recommend, to annoy Sir Richard Phillips. Ithink it of great public consequence, that this Trial should be universally read. As I observed before, the action, out of which this trial grew, was founded upon the new principle, namely, that WHATEVER HURTS A MAN'S FEELINGS is to be considered as libellous. The trial has completely set this principle aside; and, in fact, we are much cbliged to Sir John Carr for having put the principle to the test. Until Sir John did this, there was no man who could tell whether he dared criticise the works of any author. Indeed, according to the principle Jaid down, and acted upon, he did not dare do it, without running a risk of punishment. Good God! What would have been said by POPE and SWIFT, if any one had said to them: "It is wel! for you, "that you live in this age; for, in that "which will succeed, to ridicule a fool or present day, would be deemed infamous libels. They had no idea that to write and publish truth was a crime. The whole tenor of their works proves, that, so long as they confined themselves to the stating of what was true, they entertained no appre hensions as to the consequences. Upon the topics connected with royalty, too, they were no more squeamish than upon others. They were afraid of no constructive libels; nor, if they chose to express their disapprobation of the conduct of kings and princes, did they fear the accusation of disloyalty. Why, if either of them, had written, in the present day, what both wrote at the beginning of the last century, he would long ago have been transported, under that act of parliament, for which we have to thank, principally, Pitt and Lord Grenville. Yet, as I observed before, the times they lived and wrote in were very glorious times for England; such times as England has not since seen; times in which she shone more, both in arms and in letters, than she ever did before, and than she is likely to do again. The rogues and fools in public life have powerful motives for cramping the press, and all the rogues and fools in private life are naturally of their party. It must be $0. Vice and folly, of whatever description, hate the light. Publicity is their na tural enemy. Public prosecutions lead to private prosecutions; and why not? If a man is to be punished for exposing the vices or follies of a person whom the public employs, why should not the exposer of a pri vate person be punished? It is detestable to tell us, that regular government cannot be supported without this sort of prosecu tions. To tell us, that a government cannot subsist without laws to punish the publication of truth, is, in fact, to tell us, that that government subsists by falsehood and fraud.- -Besides, if a government cannot subsist without such prosecutions, it never can long subsist with them, unless it becomes a complete despotism, which is a state of constant warfare between the government and the people, and which, as we have recently seen in many instances, will subsist no longer than the people are without an opportunity of casting off its authority. If the government subsist with the wishes of the people, what need has it of prosecutions for any animadversions upon its conduct? And, of what use are the prosecutions? Suppose, for instance, some one accuse the government of tyrannical con en your lives, and, perhaps, your ears, "before you died.' What would Gay have said, had he been told, that his Fables, in the next age, would have subjected him to ear-cropping? Yet, the nation was as well governed then, as it is now, and, as to matters of literature, it was far greater than it now is. Were a man to write now as Pope and Swift wrote, he would have the full cry of Bond Street and St James's against him, He would be called ruffian and assassin. He would be accused of coarseness, grossness, personality. He would be called an enemy to politeness, taste, refinement, and human happiness. I have often wondered, that some of the descendants of the rogues and fouls whom they lashed, have not prosecuted the reduct. If his assertion be unsupported by printers and the sellers of their admirable proof, none but the very ignorant part of satires, which, were they written in the the nation will believe him; and, even on their minds, he will produce no lasting impression. If he speak truth, it is not only proper that he should speak freely and without danger; but, the prosecution of him, in that case, and by a form of process which does not admit of his pleading the truth in his defence, must have, as to the government, an effect ten thousand times worse than if he had not been prosecuted; such a prosecution proving, not that the government was innocent of the charge, but, tending to prove that it was guilty, and that the person prosecuted has been the victim of vindictive guilt. And, in cases, where his assertions are void of proof; assertions which hardly any one will believe; such assertions gain credit from the mere circumstance of their author becoming an object of prosecution. Nothing can, by what is called a criminal prosecution, be obtained favourable to the reputation of the prosecuting party. His innocence cannot be proved. The form of proceeding, according to the present practice, does not admit of it. What does he get, then? A glutting of his vengeance, a gratification of his vindictive feelings, and the hope of being able to prevent future detection and exposure. But, those who, perhaps, only despised him before, will now bate him; and this hatred, justly sticking to him through life, will amply supply the place of future exposures. His escaping censure will ever after be attributed to the dread of punishment in those who are able and willing to censure him. Thus, he will always be regarded as guilty, even to a degree, perhaps, beyond the truth; and every Just man will see, with pleasure, the hour of his misfortune and destruction.— It is now rather more than a year ago, since a gentleman, who had been most shamefully misrepresented and belied in the newspapers, and who had, indeed, been distinctly accused of very heinous offences, wrote to me an explanation of the circumstances of the case, and intimated, in conclusion, his intention of appealing to the law. I participated in his indignation against the publishers; but, conjured him not to appeal to the law; because, now, or in a short time, the whole nation would be convinced of the falsehood of what had been said against him, whereas, if he prosecuted, the whole nation would have doubts, at least, upon the subject. He followed my advice. He suffered the web of falsehood to be spun out, and he has found, that not a human creature in England believes one of them. It is in reason that it should be thus. Truth, give it fair play, will always triumph over falsehood. Pit them against one another, giving them -- both the free scope of the press, and there is no fear but the former will prevail. Every man does, every man must, know this; and, as every man is quite at liberty to answer those who attack him in print, and as every man has the ability to state plain facts in his defence, his appealing to the law always is, and always must be, a circumstance conveying suspicion, that he wants truth wherewith to repel the attack. -As to ridicule, good lord, what would DRYDEN, POPE, and SWIFT have said, had they been told, that, in their country, it would become a crime to wound men's feelings by holding them up to ridicule! Ridicule is a thing that will not attach where it ought not. I defy Mr. Giliray to turn Lord Nelson's skill and courage into ridicule. You may attempt to ridicule any thing. This master of the art has tried his talents upon Sir Francis Burdett and his Westminster procession; but, if he would make a candid confession, he would tell us, that that was amongst the most unsuccessful of his efforts; he would tell us, that not a soul, except, perhaps, Mr. Baldwin, to whose name the folks at Whitehall prefix the infantine appellation of Billy, ever thought this piece worth carrying home. There must be the ingredients of ridicule in the thing ridiculed without which, to attempt to ridicule it, is like attempting to strike fire out of clay. Well, then, ridicule is, in all cases, not only innocent, but laudable; because, that which is ridiculous ought to be ridiculed. What must the world think of the man, or set of men, who can come into a court of justice and demand reparation, or vengeance, for having been laughed at? Who, like CALIBAN, can come and say: "Mark how he mocks me; "I pray thee, my lord, bite him to death?" It is, and always has been, I suppose, the fashion of babies to run to their parents with complaints of being laughed at; but, for grown up men to do this; for knights and other great folks to fall into the practice; for courts of law and justice to be made the instruments of their childish resentment: this, were it not but too true, would be ridiculous indeed. What is that reputation? What can that reputation be worth? Whose care, or protection, can it merit, if it be not sufficient to stand the test of ridicule ?An indictment! An indictment preferred against a book-maker or a bookseller; an indictment against the press by one who had so long thriven by the press, and who now had so much of that press at his command, together with abundance of talents to make use of it! Of a fool's wrath the world has long been taught to beware; but, who |