fought, and had penetrated even to the Russian capital, his Generals in
the south had been much less successful, probably in consequence of
the main energies of the empire being directed to the great object of
subduing the powerful Autocrat. The French armies in Spain sustained
several signal defeats. Ballasteros defeated the French, and the grand
combined army, under Wellington, stormed Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajos.
This army also took Salamanca on the 16th of June. On the 1st of July
it was ascertained that the number of prisoners of war in England was
54,517. Another battle was fought at Salamanca, on the 23d of July, when
the French were again defeated by Wellington's army. On the 11th of
August, Lord Wellington entered Madrid, and on the following day the
French evacuated Bilboa. On the 19th of August, Soult abandoned the
siege of Cadiz, and on the 27th Seville was taken by the combined army
of English and Spaniards. It is necessary to record the fact, that
during the whole of the war in Spain, whenever the French obtained
possession of a place, the inquisition was abolished; whenever the
English got possession, the inquisition was restored with all its
terrors, until at length the Cortes formally caused it to be abolished,
in the latter end of June, in this year. While these things were going
on abroad, an event occurred at home that caused a great political
sensation throughout the whole kingdom. On the 11th of May, Mr. Spencer
Perceval, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, was shot in the lobby of
the House of Commons, by Mr. John Bellingham. It is an extraordinary
coincidence, that Mr. Perceval should thus come by his death, at
the threshold of the House of Commons, on the anniversary of the
ever-memorable day on which Mr. Maddocks made his motion, in the House
of Commons, charging him and Lord Castlereagh with having been concerned
in trafficking for the seat of Mr. Quintin Dick, in Parliament, into
the grounds of which motion the Honourable House refused to inquire.
Bellingham never attempted to make his escape, which he might easily
have done in the confusion which the event created. After the
consternation had a little subsided, some one present, who had been
brought out of the House by the report of the pistol, inquired who
was the murderer? Bellingham replied, "I am the man that killed Mr.
Perceval;" upon which he was seized and searched, and another pistol
loaded was found in his pocket. He was then taken into the House of
Commons, and being examined, he admitted the fact, adding, "I have
been denied the redress of my grievances by Government; I have
been ill-treated, I sought redress in vain, and I feel sufficient
justification for what I have done." The fact was, that Mr. Bellingham
was a merchant of Liverpool, and had, while in Russia, been wrongfully
accused and thrown into prison by the Governor-General. He applied to
the English Consul, Lord Leveson Gower, for redress, but his application
was fruitless. He had suffered great pecuniary losses in consequence,
and when he returned to England, he laid his case before the Government,
who at first treated his application with neglect, and ultimately
refused to grant him any redress, or to inquire into the cause of his
complaint. He was then induced to draw up a petition to be presented to
Parliament; but he was informed, that it was necessary to obtain the
consent of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, before his petition could be
received, as it prayed for pecuniary remuneration. He applied in vain;
and, in his own words upon his trial, "he was bandied about from one
Minister to another," till he became desperate. He then wrote a letter
to the Magistrates at Bow-street, to inform them, that unless his case
was inquired into, "he _should feel justified in executing justice
himself_." "Justice, and justice only," said he, "was my object, which
Government had uniformly denied me, and the distress it reduced me to,
drove me to despair. In consequence, and purely for the purpose
of having this affair legally investigated, I gave notice at the
Public-Office, at Bow-street, requesting the Magistrates to acquaint his
Majesty's Ministers, that, if they persisted in refusing justice, or
even to permit me to bring my just petition into Parliament for redress,
_I should be under the imperious necessity of executing justice myself?_
At length I was told, by a Mr. Hill, at the Treasury, that he thought it
would be useless for me to make further application to the Government,
and that I was at full liberty _to take what measures I thought proper
for redress_. Mr. Beckett, the Under Secretary of State, confirmed the
same, adding, that _Mr. Percecal had been consulted, and could not allow
my petition to come forward_. Thus a direct refusal of justice, with a
_carte blanche_ to act in whatever manner I thought proper, were the
sole causes of the fatal catastrophe; _and they have now to reflect upon
their own impure conduct for what has happened_." Mr. Bellingham was
found guilty and sentenced to death, and was executed in the front of
Newgate, on the Monday following. Previously to his being taken
upon the scaffold, one of the Sheriffs put some very impertinent and
unfeeling questions to him, which he answered with great coolness and
dignity. In fact, from the time of his committing the deed, he conducted
himself with the greatest calmness and courage; he made a most eloquent
defence, always acknowledged the fact, but vindicated it to the very
last moment of his existence. No man was treated with greater neglect,
no one endeavoured more to gain a hearing and a fair inquiry into his
case; but, alas! justice was denied him; and injustice will drive the
soundest mind to acts of desperation. His answer to a most unfeeling and
impertinent question of one of the Sheriffs was,--"I bore no resentment
to Mr. Perceval as a man--and as a man I am sorry for his fate. I was
referred from Minister to Minister, from office to office, and at length
refused all redress for my grievances. It was my own sufferings that
caused the melancholy event; and I hope it will be a warning to future
Ministers to attend to the applications and prayers of those who suffer
from oppression. Had my petition been brought into Parliament, this
catastrophe would not have happened." SHERIFF--"I hope you feel deep
contrition for the deed?" Upon which the prisoner drew up, and said,
with a severe firmness, "I hope, Sir, I feel as a man ought to feel."
After the cap had been drawn over his face, at the moment when he was
going out of the world, his ears were saluted with "God bless you! God
Almighty bless you!" issuing from the lips of thousands. He met his
fate with the greatest fortitude and resignation, and left the world
apparently with an unchangeable impression that he had only committed
an imperious act of necessity, an act of justice. I am one of those who
will never assent to the justice of taking away the life of man in cold
blood, upon any other principle than that of law, and laws made, too,
by _universal consent_. A man put to death in cold blood, deliberately
executed, in pursuance of any law that is not made by _common consent_,
that is, by the _assent_ of the _whole community_, I shall always hold
to be murdered; this consideration alone is quite sufficient to justify
the demand for universal suffrage. If the laws had been made by persons
chosen by the whole people, Mr. Perceval would not have been shot; it
was the want of an honest House of Commons that made Mr. Perceval a
tyrant; it was the protection that he was sure of receiving, from a
corrupt majority of a corrupt and packed House of Commons, that induced
him to persevere in denying justice to Mr. Bellingham; and if ever a man
received the reward of his own injustice, it was Mr. Perceval. I repeat,
that I by no means defend assassination; but in examining an act we must
be careful to inquire whether some palliation of it may not be found in
the motive by which it is prompted. This was an extreme case; Bellingham
had been grievously oppressed, he could not obtain justice from the
Government; he could not even make his case known in any way except by
means of a petition to Parliament; and, as he had asked for remuneration
for his losses, his petition could not, according to a rule of the
House, be presented without the consent of the Minister or the
Chancellor of the Exchequer. At the end of eighteen months of hope and
fear and agony, Mr. Bellingham found that the consent of Mr. Perceval
was positively refused; he was driven to despair, and he shot him. It
may not be amiss to say a few words here respecting Mr. Perceval. He had
become, most unexpectedly, Chancellor of the Exchequer. He was a lawyer,
and had been hired as the advocate of the Princess of Wales. During the
"delicate investigation," he had not only made himself master of all her
secrets, but, it is said, had also obtained the knowledge of all the
private history of the Royal Family, particularly of the Prince
of Wales. When the "delicate investigation" was closed, and the
Commissioners had acquitted the Princess of all the charges brought
against her, the _Morning Post_ announced that two gentlemen of the Bar
had been employed by the Princess, to draw up a report of the matter,
which would _speedily_ be published. The fact is, that Mr. Perceval did
print this book, but he suppressed it, and became Chancellor of the
Exchequer and First Lord of the Treasury. If he did not betray his
mistress, the Princess of Wales, which is doubtful, there can be no
doubt that he at least deserted her for place and power. All his family
and political connections, of course, lamented his death; but it cannot
be disguised that the people were far differently affected by it, and,
in many parts of the kingdom, they openly testified their feeling by
acts of public rejoicing. There was a woeful howling set up by the
writers of the Ministerial press, about the great loss of Mr. Perceval,
on account of his being such an excellent husband. According to the
statement of these hirelings, there was not such another husband in the
kingdom; and a very large pension was in consequence settled upon
his wife; it being urged in the House of Commons, that, as the loss
sustained by Mrs. Perceval was not only irreparable, but beyond all
precedent, that loss ought to be made up to her in the magnitude of
her pension---an argument worthy of the sound sense and honourable
principles of those by whom it was urged. The best answer, however, to
these hypocritical pleadings, was given by Mrs. Perceval herself; for,
in a very few months after the decease of that best of all possible
husbands, that nonpareil of married males; yes, in a few short months
after her irreparable loss, his disconsolate widow concealed herself in
the arms of another and a younger husband!
I had not long returned from Bristol before I repaired to London, and
formally presented a petition to the House of Commons, against the
return of Richard Hart Davis, Esq., as Member for Bristol. The petition
charged him with bribery, intimidation, and the introduction of a
military force during the election, contrary to the statute law of the
land. I also entered into the proper recognizances, and gave security
for trying the merits of the election, before a committee of the House
of Commons.
In the mean time Mr. Cobbett published a second letter, as follows:--
TO THE INDEPENDENT ELECTORS OF BRISTOL.
Gentlemen,--If I have not to congratulate you upon the return of Mr.
Hunt as your representative, I may well congratulate you upon the spirit
which you have shown during the election, and upon the prospect of final
success from the exertion of a similar spirit. That another contest will
take place in a few months, there can be no doubt; for, the law allows
of no exceptions with regard to the use of soldiers. The ancient common
law of England forbade not only the use, but the very _show_ of force of
any kind, at elections; and, the Act of Parliament, made in the reign of
King George the Second, is quite positive as to a case like yours. That
Act, after stating the principle of the Common Law as to soldiers in an
election town, says, that, when an election is about to take place
in any city or borough, wherein there are any soldiers stationed or
quartered, the soldiers shall be removed out of the said city or
borough; that they shall go out one day, at least, before the poll
begins; that they shall not return till one day, at least, after the
poll has closed; that the distance to which they shall be removed, shall
be two miles at least. There are a few exceptions, such as Westminster
or any other place where the Royal Family may be, who are to have their
guards about them whether there be an election going on or not; and
also, in case of fortified towns, where, though there be an election
going on, soldiers are to remain in sufficient number to take care of
the works.
Now, then, as Bristol is neither a place of residence of the Royal
Family, nor a fortified town, it is clear, that, if soldiers have been
suffered to remain in, or to return to, your city within the periods
above described, the election must be void; or, there is, at once, an
end to the abovementioned Act of Parliament, and also to the ancient
common law of England in this respect, and the very show of freedom
of election is gone. It has not only been stated to me from the best
authority; but, it has been stated in print by your well-known enemies,
that soldiers were not only brought within the precincts of your city,
during the time that the poll was open, but that they actually were
stationed, with bayonets fixed, in the very Guildhall; and, in short,
after the first or second day of the election, the city was, under the
control of military armed men.
This being the case, there can be no doubt of the election being
declared void; or, if it be not, there will, at any rate, be no
disguise; it will become _openly declared_, that soldiers, under the
command of men appointed by the King, and removeable at his sole will,
can be, at any time, brought into a place where an election is going
on, and can be stationed in the very building where the poll is taken.
Whether, amongst the other strange things of our day, we are doomed to
witness this, is more than I can say; but, at the least, it will be
something _decisive_; something that will speak a _plain language_;
something that will tend to fashion men's minds to what is to come. But,
I have heard it asked: "would you, then, in _no case_, have soldiers
called in during an election? Would you rather see a city _burnt
down_?" Aye would I, and to the very ground; and, rather than belong to
a city where soldiers were to be brought in to assist at elections, I
would expire myself in the midst of the flames, or, at least, it would
be my duty so to do, though I might fail in the courage to perform it.
But, why should a city be _burnt down_, unless protected by _soldiers_?
Why suppose any such case? Really, to hear some men talk now-a-days,
one would be almost tempted to think that they look upon soldiers
as necessary to our very existence; or, at the least, that they are
necessary to keep us in order, and that the people of England, so famed
for their good sense, for their public spirit, and their obedience to
the laws, are now a set of brutes, to be governed only by force. If
there are men who think thus of the people of England, let them _speak
out_; and then we shall know them. But, Gentlemen, it is curious enough,
that the very persons, who, upon all occasions, are speaking of the
people of England as being so happy, so contented, so much attached to
their government, are the persons who represent soldiers as absolutely
necessary to _keep this same people in order!_
To hear these men talk, one would suppose, that soldiers, as the means
of keeping the peace, had always made a part of our government; and,
that, as to elections, there always may have been cases when the calling
in of soldiers was necessary. But, the fact is, that soldiers were
wholly unknown to the ancient law of England; and, that, as to an
_army_, there never was any thing of an army _established_ in England
till within a hundred years. How was the peace _kept then_? How were
riots suppressed in those times? We do not hear of any cities having
been burnt at elections in those days. I will not cite the example of
America, where there are elections going on every year, and where every
man who pays a sixpence tax has a vote, and yet where there is not a
single soldier in the space of hundreds and thousands of miles; I will
not ask how the peace is kept in that country; I will not send our
opponents across the Atlantic; I will confine myself to England; and,
again I ask, _how the peace was kept in the times when there were no
soldiers in England?_ I put this questien to the friends of Corruption;
I put this question to Mr. Mills, of the Bristol Gazette, whose paper
applauds the act of introducing the troops, This is my question: how was
the peace kept at elections, how were towns and cities preserved, how
was the city of Bristol saved from destruction, _in those days when
there were no soldiers in England?_ I put this question to the apostles
of tyranny and despotic sway; and, Gentlemen, we may wait long enough, I
believe, before they will venture upon an answer.
I have heard it asked: "What! would you, then, make an election void,
because soldiers were introduced, though one of the candidates would
have been killed, perhaps, without the protection of the bayonet? Would
you thus set an election aside, when it might be evident, that, without
the aid of soldiers, the man who has been elected, would not, and could
not, have been elected, on account of the violence exercised against
him? If that be the case, there is nothing to do but to excite great
popular violence against a man; for, that being done, you either drive
him and his supporters from the polling place, or, if he call in
soldiers, you make his election void." This has a little plausibility
in it; but, as you will see, it will not stand the test of examination.
Here is a talk about exciting of violent proceedings; here is a talk
about burning the city: but, _who_, Gentlemen, were to be guilty of
these violent proceedings? _who_ were to burn the city? Not the horses
or dogs of Bristol; not any banditti from a foreign land; not any
pirates who had chanced to land upon the coast. No, no; but "the
_rabble_, the _mob_;" and _what_ were they? Were they a species of
monsters, unknown to our ancient laws and to the Act of George the
Second? Or were they men and women? If the latter, they were, in fact,
_people of Bristol_; and, the truth is, that if the people of Bristol
abhorred a man to such a degree that it was unsafe for him or his
advocates to appear on the hustings, or in the streets; if this was the
case, it was improper that that man should be elected, since it must
be clear, that, if elected, he must owe his election to undue, if not
corrupt, influence. What! and do the advocates of corruption suppose,
that our law-makers had not this in their view? Is it to be imagined,
that they did not foresee, and, indeed, that they had not frequently
seen, that elections produced fierce and bloody battles? They knew it
well, and so did the legislators in America; but, still they allowed of
no use of soldiers. They reasoned thus, or, at least, thus they would
have reasoned, if any one had talked to them of soldiers: 'No; we will
have no soldiers. The magistrate has full power to keep the peace at all
times, not excepting times of election, when assaults and slanders are
no more permitted by law than at any other time. The magistrate has all
the constables and other inferior peace officers at his command: he can,
if he find it necessary, add to the number of these at his pleasure;
and, if the emergency be such as not to allow time for this, he can, by
his sole authority, and by virtue of his commission, which is at all
times effective, call upon the whole of the people to _aid and assist_
him in the execution of his duty, and for refusing to do which any man
is liable to punishment. Having endued the magistrate with these powers;
having given him a chosen band of sworn officers, armed with staves;
having given him unlimited power to add to that band; having given him,
in case of emergency, the power of commanding every man, of whatever age
or degree, to aid and assist him in the execution of his duty; having
thus armed the magistrate, how can we suppose him to stand in need of
the aid of _soldiers_, without first supposing the country in a state of
rebellion, in which case it is nonsense to talk about _elections_. To
tell us about the _popular prejudices_ excited against a candidate, is
to tell us of an insufficient cause even for the calling out of the
possé; but, if this prejudice be so very strong, so very general, and so
deeply rooted, that the magistrate, with all his ordinary and special
constables, and his power to call upon the _whole of the people_ to aid
and assist, is unable to protect him from violence, or, is unable
to preserve the city against the rage excited by his presence and
pretensions; if there be a prejudice like this against a candidate, we
are sure that it would be an insult to the common sense of mankind to
call such a man, if elected, the _representative_ of that city; and,
therefore, we will make no new law for favouring the election of such a
man.' Such, Gentlemen, would have been the reasoning of our ancestors,
such would have been the reasoning of the legislators of America,
if they had been called upon to make a law for the introduction of
_soldiers at an election;_ which, let the circumstances of the case be
what they may, and let the sophistry of the advocates of corruption be
what it may, is, after all, neither more nor less than the forcing of
the people to suffer one candidate to be elected and another to be set
aside. The soldiers do, in fact, decide the contest, and cause the
return of the sitting member; unless it be acknowledged, that his
election _could have been effected without them;_ and, then, _where is
the justification for calling them in?_ I have heard of nobody who has
attempted to anticipate any other decision than that of a void election;
and, indeed, who will dare to anticipate any other? For, if the return
be allowed to stand good in favour of Hart Davis, does any man pretend
that there can ever exist a case in which soldiers may not be brought
in? They are brought in under the pretence of quelling _a riot;_ under
the pretence of their being necessary to preserve the peace, and where
is the place where this pretence may not be hatched? It is in any body's
power to make a row and a fight during an election at Westminster, for
instance; and, of course, according to the Bristol doctrine, it is in
any body's power to give the magistrate cause for calling in soldiers,
and for posting them even upon the very hustings of Covent Garden. In
short, if Hart Davis, his return being petitioned against, be allowed to
sit, we can never again expect to see a candidate of that description
unsupported by soldiers; and, then, I repeat it, the very show, the mere
semblance, of freedom of election will not exist.
It being, for these reasons, my opinion, that the return of Hart Davis
will be set aside, and, of course, that another election for your city
is at no great distance, I shall now take the liberty to offer you my
advice as to the measures which you then ought to pursue; first adding
to what I said in my last a few observations relative to Mr. Hunt.
At the close of my last letter I observed to you, that it was owing to
this gentleman, and to him alone, that you had _an election._ You now
know this well, You have now seen what it is to have at your head a man
of principle and courage. With all the purses of almost all those in
Bristol who have grown rich out of the taxes; with all the influence of
all the corrupt; with all the Bristol newspapers and almost all the
London newspapers; with all the Corporation of the City; with all the
bigoted Clergy and all their next a-kin, the pettifogging Attorneys;
with all the bigots, and all the hypocrites, and all alarmist fools;
with all these against him, and with hundreds of bludgeon-men to boot;
opposed to all this, and to thirty or forty hired barristers and
attorneys, Mr. Hunt stood the poll for the thirteen days, in the face of
horse and foot soldiers, and that, too, without the aid of advocate or
attorney, and with no other assistance than what was rendered him by one
single friend, who, at my suggestion, went down to him on the sixth or
seventh day of the election. Gentlemen, this is, as I verily believe,
what no other man in England, whom I know, would have done. There may
be others capable of the same exertions; and, let us hope, that England
does contain some other men able to undergo what he underwent; but, it
falls to the lot of no country to produce _many_ such men. At any rate,
he has _proved_ himself to be the man for you; he has done for you what
none of the milk-sop, miawling orators at Sir Samuel Romilly's meetings
would have dared even to think of. _They_ talk of freeing the city
from the trammels of corruption; _they_ talk of giving you freedom of
election; _they_ talk of making a stand for your rights. What stand have
they made? What have you had from them but talk? They saw the enemy
within your walls; they saw him offer himself for the choice of the
people of Bristol; they saw preparations making for chairing him as your
representative on the first day of the election; and what did _they_ do
to rescue you from the disgrace of seeing him triumph over you, while
you were silent? Nothing. They did, in fact, sell you to him upon the
implied condition, that he, as far as he was able, should sell his
followers to them when the time came. You have been saved from that
disgrace; you have had 14 days of your lives wherein to tell your
enemies and the enemies of your country your minds; you have had 14
days, during which corruption trembled under your bitter but just
reproaches; you have had 14 days of political instruction and inquiry;
you have had those who affect to listen to your voice 14 days before
you, and in the hearing of that voice; there have been, in your city, 14
days of terror to the guilty part of it. This is a great deal, and for
this you are indebted to Mr. Hunt and to him alone. Your own public
virtues, your zeal, activity and courage, and your hatred of your
country's enemies did, indeed, enable Mr. Hunt to make the stand; but,
still there wanted such a man as Mr. Hunt; without such a man the stand
could not have been made; without such a man you could not have had an
opportunity of giving utterance to the hatred which you so justly feel
against the supporters of that corruption, the consequences of which you
so sorely feel.
That a man, who was giving such annoyance to the corrupt, should pass
without being calumniated, was not to be expected. Every man, who
attacks corruption, who makes war upon the vile herd that live upon
the people's labour, every such man must lay his account with being
calumniated; he must expect to be the object of the bitterest and most
persevering malice; and, unless he has made up his mind to the enduring
of this, he had better, at once, quit the field. One of the weapons
which corruption employs against her adversaries is calumny, secret as
well as open. It is truly surprising to see how many ways she has of
annoying her foes, and the artifices to which she stoops to arrive at
her end. No sooner does a man become in any degree formidable to her,
than she sets to work against him in all the relationships of life.
In his profession, his trade, his family; amongst his friends, the
companions of his sports, his neighbours, and his servants. She eyes him
all round, she feels him all over, and, if he has a vulnerable point,
if he has a speck, however small, she is ready with her stab. How many
hundreds of men have been ruined by her without being hardly able to
perceive, much less name, the cause; and how many thousands, seeing the
fate of these hundreds, have withdrawn from the struggle, or have been
deterred from taking part in it!
Mr. Hunt's _separation from his wife_ presented too fair a mark to be
for a moment overlooked; but, it required the _canting crew_, with a Mr.
Charles Elton at their head, to give to this fact that deformity which
it has been made to receive. Gentlemen, I wish to be clearly understood
here. I do not think lightly of such matters. When a man separates from
his wife there must always be ground for regret; it is a thing always
to be lamented; and, if the fault, in this case, was on the side of
Mr. Hunt, it is a fault, which, even in our admiration of his public
conduct, we ought by no means to endeavour to palliate. But, Gentlemen,
I do not, and the public cannot, know what was the _real cause_ of
the separation of which so much has been said. Mr. Hunt has, upon no
occasion that I have heard of, attempted to justify his conduct, in this
respect, by stating the reasons of the separation; but, I am sure that
you are too just to conclude from _that circumstance_, that the fault
was wholly his. It is impossible for the public to know the facts of
such a case. They cannot enter into a man's family affairs. The tempers
and humours of wives and of husbands nobody but those wives and husbands
know. They are, in many cases, unknown even to domestic servants and to
children; and, is it not, then, the height of presumption for the public
to pretend to any knowledge of the matter?
But, be the facts of the case what they may, I am quite sure, that as
a candidate for a seat in Parliament, they have nothing to do with the
pretensions of Mr. Hunt, any more than they would have had to do with
his claims to a title for having won the battle of Trafalgar. There is a
Mr. Walker, who, I think, is an Attorney at Bristol, who has written a
pamphlet against Mr. Hunt, in which pamphlet he argues thus: 'Mr.
Hunt has, by quitting his wife to live with another woman, broken his
plighted vows to his own wife; a man who will break his promises in one
case will break them in another case; and, therefore, as Mr. Hunt has
broken his promises to his wife, _he will break his promises to the
people of Bristol_.' These are not Mr. Walker's words, but you have here
his reasoning, and from it you may judge of the shifts to which Mr.
Hunt's adversaries are driven. As well might Mr. Walker tell you that
you will break any promise that you may make to your neighbours, because
you have not wholly renounced the Devil and all his works, and all
the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, as you, in your baptism,
promised and vowed to do. If Mr. Walker's argument were a good one,
a man who lives in a state of separation from his wife ought to be
regarded as a man dead in law; or, rather, as a man excommunicated by
the Pope. If his promises are good for nothing when made to electors,
they are good for nothing when made to any body else. He cannot,
therefore, be a proper man for any body to deal with, or to have any
communication with; and, in short, he ought to be put out of the world,
as being a burden and a nuisance in it.
There is something so absurd, so glaringly stupid, in this, that it is
hardly worth while to attempt a further exposure of it, or I might ask
the calumniating crew, who accuse Mr. Hunt of _disloyalty_, whether they
are ready to push their reasoning and their rules up to _peers_ and
_princes,_ and to assert that they ought to be put out of power if they
cease to live with their wives. They would say, no; and that their
doctrine was intended to apply only to those who had the boldness to
attack corruption. The man who does that is to be as pure as snow; he is
to have no faults at all. He is to be a _perfect Saint;_ nay, he is to
be a great deal more, for he is to have no human being, not even his
wife, to whisper a word to his disadvantage. "You talk of mending the
_constitution_," said an Anti-jacobin to Dr. Jebb, when the latter was
very ill, "mend _your own_:" and I have heard it seriously objected to
a gentleman that he signed a petition for a Reform of Parliament while
there needed a reformation amongst his servants, one of whom had
assisted to burden the parish; just as if he had on that account less
right to ask for a full and fair representation of the people! After
this, who need wonder if he were told not to talk against rotten
boroughs while he himself had a rotten tooth, or endeavour to excite a
clamour against corruption when his own flesh was every day liable to be
corrupted to the bone?