testimony seems to relate only to his own intentions with re spect to lodging a complaint, and his own ideas of the impu tations that should arise from transactions of this nature. I am, Sir, Your humble servant, Q IN THE CORNER. LETTER LXXV. TO THOMAS BRADSHAW, ESQ. July 7, 1770. YOUR honourable colleague, Mr. Cooper, bore witness to your innocence. So full a vindication was superfluous. I dare answer for it, that the opinion which the public had conceived of your integrity is still unaltered; it could not have been lessened although your champion never had appeared; nor has his entrance within the lists at all increased it. I took the liberty to appeal from his decision to your own: you seem determined to be silent. Perhaps the rigour of your situation deprives you of any choice between the sacrifice of truth and of yourself. You nobly hesitate to make the first, and tacitly confess that in one heedless moment throughout a life of unpolluted honesty you may have been to blame. Perhaps you do not think it quite ineligible to let this matter die away. Consult the feelings of your heart, and they will tell you that the public forms of justice can avail but little. They will not either yield a shelter to yourself, or enable you to direct the storm against another. I have not written from conjecture, nor can you be ignorant that I have drawn my intelligence from its first source, and not the common falsities of the day. There is a place which once was called the House of Prayer; I leave it to men more versed in Scripture phrases than myself to tell you what it is at present. Should you hereafter think it proper to discuss this subject there, you possibly may tind an individual in that virtuous congregation who will as sist the hitherto ineffectual inquiries of QIN THE CORNER. LETTER LXXVI. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER. SIR, July 7, 1770. I FIND myself engaged at once with two antagonists of very different complexions. I must content myself, however, with opposing the same obvious reasoning of a plain man to the cool circumspect address of The Fellow-labourer in the Public Cause, and to the rapid, eager precipitation of his supporter. The latter of these gentlemen, with a temperance that does not seem to belong to him, is peremptorily of opinion, “that when a particular injustice is founded on, and supported by, a general principle, the appeal should no longer be made to the passions, but to the wisdom of the people." The reverse is, I believe, invariably true. Prudence may incline us to forget the injury of a moment, the impulse of passion, or the suggestion of caprice. Let the same injury be offered to us with all the insolence of authority, or even let the authority be pretended to without any actual exertion, and wisdom herself shall call forth every passion to resist it. A simple tax of a few shillings, illegally extorted, was sufficient to enlighten the understandings of the whole nation. Everybody perceived that one such instance, supporting itself on a general claim, was equivalent to, and (like an universal proposition) comprehended a thousand. It did not require the sagacity of a Hampden to deduce the consequences; but it called for all his spirit to oppose them. I am ready to acknowledge, that "in rigorous consistency the city of London ought not to return any representative to St. Stephen's Chapel; I am more ready to dispense with "the attendance of some of the present city members." But I am still willing to admit the necessity of their departing a little from that rigour, because I see no medium between such a temporary accommodation, and either the miseries of civil bloodshed, or (what is infinitely more to be deprecated) the established tranquillity of servitude. The right of resistance on the part of the people is the ultimate sanction of our civil liberties. But God forbid that we should be too critically exact in defining the precise boun dary where the exertion of that right becomes a duty. The distresses of an intestine war are known and inevitable; the event precarious. It may be better to submit, for a time, to what even is an irregularity in the most essential part of the state than instantly to seek redress by violence. Every other conceivable method ought first to be eagerly adopted, and earnestly pursued. Something may be expected from time, from importunity, from fear; perhaps something even from conscience and remorse. And if, at length, without coming to extremities, the integrity of the legislature should be restored, the tyrannical decisions of an unauthorized assembly will of course be abrogated; their useful acts may receive a ratification from a legitimate parliament. You perceive, Sir, that I am not here maintaining the doctrine asserted in the city remonstrance, but arguing from it. Yet I must beg leave to observe, that the distinction introduced by this correspondent, between a speculative and a practical parliament, a parliament de jure and de facto, is equally novel and monstrous. On this account I cannot but be of opinion that the city should adhere to their constitutional speculation, and insist that Mr. Wilkes is actual representative of Middlesex; although they may without blame, perhaps, acquiesce, for a time, in the proceedings of an assembly to which they cannot even allow the rank of a convention. For the sake of peace they may be justified in returning Mr. Oliver. For the sake not merely of consistency, but of the safety and dignity of the state, Mr. Wilkes must not be allowed to quit "the sure ground on which he stands," to borrow an expression of his own in an address to his constituents. 66 But it seems, if Mr. Wilkes were returned by the city, and admitted to take his seat, the unconstitutional principle would be ipso facto overturned." Let us see, then, how the argument will stand. If the admission of Mr. Wilkes would ipso facto overturn the unconstitutional principle, undoubtedly the continuation of Mr. Luttrell must ipso facto perpetuate it. What is this but to make the House of Commons such an ab. surd monster in politics as has never yet disgraced the rea Bon or the patience of mankind: a legislative body subsisting by two principles (each in its full force and energy), equal, contrary, and mutually destructive. In The Fellow-labourer of this day has, indeed, candidly admitted that the extermination of Mr. Luttrell is the indispensable point, if your other correspondent, who absolutely denies the position, will indulge me in the phrase. Mr. Luttrell holds his seat by a very different title from a common determination in the case of a contested return. the latter instance, the jurisdiction of the House is competent; nor has the constitution hitherto provided an appeal for their decision. In the case before us, a new and unheard-of power is supposed to be usurped, and rights beyond the reach of the whole legislature, I mean the fundamental rights of the people, invaded by a third part of it. By this invasion Mr. Luttrell was seated; upon this principle the return was amended by the House and his name inserted; and it is in consequence of that alteration that he still ranks as a member of parliament. As long, therefore, as he shall be permitted to sit there, so long will the principle be in force. For in the House of Commons, as in every other court, prove the urisdiction to be incompetent to the case, and the adjudication falls to the ground. It appears to me that both your correspondents have contemplated this subject in too confined a view. For my own part, I think too highly of Mr. Wilkes's services to the state, and of the sacredness of our common cause, to wish either one or the other to be made a mere engine of party, or a scarecrow of opposition. But since the gentlemen from whom I dissent have delivered their sentiments concerning the effect which the proposed measure would probably produce in the House of Commons and in ministry, I, too, in my turn, will venture to pronounce that nothing is so ardently desired by either, as a separation between the county of Middlesex and Mr. Wilkes. I am, Sir, Your humble Servant, A LABOURER IN THE SAME CAUSE, SIR, LETTER LXXVII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER. November 19, 1770. A FEW days ago I was in a large public company, whero there happened some curious conversation. The Secretary at War was pleased to express himself with unusual simplicity and candour. He assured us that, after having carefully con sidered the subject, he did not know a single general officer (out of near an hundred now in the service) who was in any shape qualified to command the army; and, for fear we should not believe him, repeated and inforced his assertion five several times. You will allow, Sir, that, at the eve of a foreign war, this is pretty comfortable intelligence for the nation, especially as it comes from authority. He gave us some consolation, however, by assuring us that he and General Hervey would take excellent care of the army, and compared himself (not unhappily) to an old woman caring an ague with the assistance of Dr. Radcliff. I don't so much question Mr. Hervey's being able to give good advice as that other little man's being either willing or able to follow it; but I should be glad to know which of them is to be responsible to the country for the management of the army, or whether they are invested with equal powers. Is Lord Barrington the marksman and General Hervey only the stalking-horse? Or does the latter command and that other only do as he is bid? This point, I think, ought to be explained, for if we don't know who commands the army, and any mischief should happen, the Secretary at War and Adjutant General will of course lay the blame upon each other, and the nation never know which of them ought to be punished. • Lord Viscount Barrington. TESTIS |