[After the full text of the Late John Wilkes's Catechism is read into the court record, Hone begins his defence.]

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.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

[Here endeth the Catechism.]

    This being the whole of the case on the part of the prosecution,
    Mr. Hone rose, and addressed the Court to the following purport:—He called upon the jury, as earnestly and as solemnly as the Attorney-General had done, to decide upon this case according to their oaths.  If he felt any embarrassment on this occasion, and he felt a great deal, it was because he was not in the habit of addressing an assembly like that: he had never, indeed, addressed any assembly whatever; and, therefore, he hoped that they and the Court would show their indulgence to him, standing there as he did, unassisted by counsel, to make his own defence.  If he were really guilty of this libel, as the Attorney-General had called it, he should not have stood there this day.  So far back as May, he was arrested under a warrant by the Lord Chief Justice of the Court, Lord Ellenborough, and brought suddenly to plead to informations filed against him.  He did not plead, because he conceived the proceeding by information to be unconstitutional, and he thought so still.  However ancient this mode of proceeding might be, he was satisfied that it was never intended to be exercised in the way that it had been of late years.  By this process, every man in the kingdom, however innocent he might be, was entirely at the mercy of the Attorney-General, and of the Government.  There was no security of honour, integrity, and virtue; no presentment to a jury, no previous inquiry; the victim was taken in a summary way by warrants, and brought to answer suddenly to informations of which he was wholly ignorant.  Another objection which he had to plead on that occasion was, the enormous expense that must have been incurred.  He had been given to understand, that making his defence in the usual way, by solicitor and counsel, would cost 100l. which would have been utter ruin to him.  He applied to the Court for copies of the informations, but the Court did not grant him those copies.  He was sorry for this, because if they had been granted, he should have known what he was specifically charged with.  On Friday last, he applied for copies at the Crown-office, and upon paying the customary charges, he procured them.  When he was placed on the floor of the Court of King's Bench, the late Attorney-General, Sir William Garrow, stated, that the informations charged him with blasphemous publications.  Now he found, that this information did not charge him with blasphemous publications; it charged, that he, being an impious and wickedly disposed person, and intending to excite impiety and irreligion, did publish that which was stated in the information.  And here he must beg leave to call to their attention the great prejudice which had been

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raised against him throughout the country by this circumstance, and the injury which he had sustained by misrepresentations coming from the highest authorities in the country.  The late Attorney-General had charged him with a second information, and he then observed, that whether he were charged with one information, or 300 informations, he would not plead unless copies were given to him.  The Attorney General in reply observed, that the number of informations depended on the number of publications.  He did not, however, mean to charge Sir William Garrow with any intention to produce an unfavourable impression in the public mind against him.  But he must say, and he would say it boldly, because he said it truly, that no man was ever treated with greater injustice than he was by Lord Ellenborough.  Previous to his arrest, under a warrant issued by his Lordship, he had not been out of the house all the week: he had been engaged in writing, and no application had been made by any one to see him of which he did not hear.  Two seized him near his own door upon the warrant of Lord Ellenborough and refused to let him go home, without stating any reason why they made that refusal.  He was taken to Sergeant's-inn coffee-house, and afterwards carried to lock-up house in Shire-lane, where he remained till half-past five, anxiously expecting Mr. Gibbon, the tipstaff, (who, he was told, was coming), in order that he might learn from him the charge, and send for friends to bail him.  Gibbon did not come, and he remained ignorant of the charge.  On the Monday following, at a moment when he was retiring for the purposes of nature he was put into a coach, and ordered to be taken to Westminster-hall to plead; but even then the officer could not tell him to what he was to plead.  While in the coach, he found it almost impossible to keep himself from fainting: but he was told, that when he arrived at Westminster, sufficient time would be allowed him.  He was, however, taken into Court, and whilst one of the informations was being read, a mist came before his eyes, he felt giddy, and applied for leave to sit.  The answer of Lord Ellenborough was "No;" and it was pronounced with an intonation that might have been heard at the further end of the hall.  This refusal, instead of making him sink on the floor, as he had expected to do, had the effect that a glass of water on being thrown into his face would have had, and he felt perfectly relieved.  At the same time, however, he could not help feeling contempt for the inhumanity of the Judge.  He was then taken to the King's-Bench, and was afterwards found senseless in his room there, not having performed an office of nature for several days.  That arose out of the inhumanity of Lord Ellenborough.

    Here Mr. Justice Abbott interrupted the defendant, stating that he had better apply himself to the charge against him.  He was unwilling to interrupt any person who was making his defence; but where, as in this case, it became absolutely necessary, he could not refrain.  It was the duty of Lord Ellenborough to pursue the course of the Court, and it was customary for defendants to stand while the informations filed against them were being read.

   The defendant proceeded.—He should be sorry to be out of order, but he believed instances had been known in which defendants

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were permitted to sit.  He thought that such cases might be found in the state trials.  But whether so or not, such was the feeling Sir William Garrow, that he leaned over and whispered to him, "If you wish to retire for any purpose of nature, you can."  He thanked him, and replied, that the purpose had gone by.  He stated this because he should never forget the humanity which Sir William had shown on that occasion, and which formed a strong contrast to the behaviour of the Judge whom he had mentioned. 

    Having stated these facts, he would not take up their time in detailing what he endured for two months in the King's Bench; suffice it to say, that he had suffered the utmost distress in a domestic way, and very considerable loss in a pecuniary way.  He had gained nothing there but a severe lesson.  He learned that, however honourable a man's intention might be, they might be construed into guilt, and the whole nation might be raised against him, except, indeed, the few cool, dispassionate, and sober persons who would read such publications as the present calmly, and determine upon the motives of the writer.  It was upon this intention that they (the jury) were to decide.  The Attorney-General, Sir Samuel Shepherd, had stated, that this publication was a political squib.  He quite agreed with the Attorney-General; he joined issue with him upon this interpretation of the work; it was published for a political squib, and if they found it a political squib, they would deliver a verdict of acquittal.  If they found it an impious and blasphemous libel, they would consign him to that punishment from which he should ask no mercy.  This was the question which they were to try, and they had nothing to try but that.  They had nothing to do with the tendency which his work might have out of doors, or the effect which it might produce in that Court, or, at least, they had so little to do with it, as not to suffer it to weigh a feather in their minds in returning their verdict to the Court.  They would remember, that he was not standing there as a defendant in an action brought by a private individual.  In that case, they would not have to look at the intention of the party; they would have to assess the amount of the damages; but here they had every thing to do with the intention of the party, and if they did not find that this political catechism was published with an impious and profane intention, they would give him a verdict of acquittal.  The Attorney-General had stated, that the very smile of a person was an evidence of the tendency of this publication.  He denied that.  The smile might arise from something wholly different from the feeling of the person who wrote that publication.  But he would now proceed to call their attention to a very important branch of this question.  In 1771, it was the intention of certain intelligent persons, Members of the House of Commons, to explain the powers of juries relating to libels.  Mr. Dowdeswell moved to bring in a bill for that purpose; and Mr. Burke, than whom he could not quote a man whose authority would be greater in that Court, delivered a most eloquent and impressive speech on that occasion.  He said, "It was the ancient privilege of Englishmen that they should be tried by a jury of their equals; but that, by the proceeding by information, the whole virtue of juries was taken away.  The spirit of

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the Star-chamber had transmigrated, and lived again in the Courts of Westminster-hall, who borrowed from the Star-chamber what that Court had taken from the Roman law.  A timid jury will give way to an awful Judge, delivering oracularly the law, and charging them to beware of their oaths.  They would do so; they had done so; nay, a respectable member of their own house had told them, that on the authority of a judge, he found a man guilty in whom he could find no guilt."  Mr. Dowdeswell's bill was brought in, but it did not pass into a law.  Mr. Burke persevered in the same cause for a number of years, without success; but in 1790, the late Mr. Fox brought in a bill, which was now called the Libel Bill, and it was under the authority of that solemn Act of Parliament that they now sat to try this information.  This bill had fixed the powers of juries in cases of libel, and made it imperative on them to determine on the whole of the matters charged in the information.  Now he was charged—with what?  With intending to excite impiety and irreligion, not with have excited it; so that, as the law stood before, if there had been but one copy printed, they would have been told to find him guilty, if it could be proved that the work was published by him; but now, if he had sold 100,000 copies, it was the intention with which they had to do.  As to blasphemy and profaneness, he spurned the charge; and when he said he spurned it, he could assure them they should not hear him say one word to-day which he did not utter from his heart, and from the most perfect conviction.  They were not to inquire whether he was a member of the Established Church or a Dissenter; it was enough that he professed himself to be a Christian: and he would be bold to say, that he made that profession with a reverence for the doctrines of Christianity which could not be exceeded by any person in that Court.  He had, however, been held up as a man unfit to live, as a blasphemer, a monster, a wretch; he had been called a wretch who had kept body and soul together by the sale of blasphemous publications.  If any man knew any one act of his life to which profaneness and impiety might be applied, he would ask and defy that man to stand forward and contradict him at that moment.  He was innocent of that charge; and it was the proudest day of his life to stand there, because he was not putting a plea of not guilty against a charge of infamous and blasphemous libel; for if he were guilty of blasphemy, he would go to the stake and burn as a blasphemer, at the same time avowing the blasphemy.  He said this, because he considered nothing was dearer to man than sincerity.  It had been the misfortune of his life to have his actions misinterpreted by the papers, by the lookers on—the mere every-day observers; but there were a few individuals of the Established Church who knew every thing alledged against him to be a foul and base calumny.  It was impossible for a man so humble in life as himself to wage war with opinions broached by a Secretary of State; but when he heard Lord Sidmouth, in the House of Lords, rising every night and calling these little publications blasphemous, he had felt disposed to interrupt him.  The odds were terribly against him in a prosecution of this kind, for he had to contend with the Secretary of State—a man whose opinions were adopted by a

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great number of persons of the first rank and consideration, and whose private life was, he believed, unimpeachable.  This eminent character was, however, like other men, liable to error, else he would not have denounced this publication as blasphemous in his place in the House of Lords.  Even if it were so, was it justice to pronounce so decided an opinion, one which must necessarily carry so much weight and influence, before the proper course of inquiry and decision were had upon it?  It was by these means that a war-whoop and yell were sent forth against him throughout the country.  But, friendless and unprotected as he was, he was obliged to submit, and hence his conduct had been held up to the amusement of the ill-thinking throughout the country.  He did not desire, for he did not know how, to obtain popularity; he never went all lengths with any description of persons whatever.  He was as independent in mind as any gentleman in that Court was independent in property: he had made to himself many enemies, because it is in human nature that the persons with whom we are intimate scarcely ever forgive one dereliction from what they consider duty.  He always endeavoured to make up his mind as coolly as possible: sure he was, that if he ever did a man injury in his life, it was from mistake, and not from intention.  And he asked the jury, if they had ever seen any of his publications before, whether they had observed in them any thing that would induce them to think that he was desirous of exciting impiety or profaneness?  No man in the country had a greater respect than himself for the constituted authorities; if he differed from some public men in opinion, it was not at all times that he differed; it was not because there was a common cry against a measure that he joined in it.  He had told them it was the intention of which they were to judge; and he would sit down immediately, if the Attorney-General could lay his hand on any publication in which, in any one passage or sentence, he could point out any thing tending to degrade or vilify the Christian religion. He stated this, not in bravado, but in the sincerity of his heart. If he were a man of a blasphemous turn of mind, it was scarcely possible, amongst the numerous works which he had published, and the greater part of them written by himself, that something of this kind should not have appeared; but whatever opinions the Attorney-General might form respecting his notions of religion, he knew that he could not produce any blasphemous writings against him.  He came now to another part of this subject.  It was his fate, when he was taken to the King's-Bench, although it might me an advantage to the country, to differ with the Master of the Crown-office, as to the way in which the special juries were returned.  After the juries in his case were struck——

    Here Mr. Justice Abbott again interrupted the defendant, observing, that he did not think this had any bearing on the question.  He was sorry, he repeated, to interfere with his defence, but he had better confine himself to the point at issue.

    Mr. Hone said it had, he thought, a bearing on the question, and his Lordship and the Jury would see it in a short time.  The Juries to which he alluded were struck in what appeared to him a fair and an honourable way; but—

    Mr. Justice Abbott.—I do not see the relevancy of what your are

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now stating.  It is my duty to take care that the time of the Court should not be consumed improperly: any other motive I cannot have.

    Mr. Hone said, that no person could be more anxious than himself to save the time of his Lordship and of the Jury.  If the Attorney-General had asked him, he would have admitted the publication of the work in order to save time: but if he were prevented from going on with what he had begun to state, it would disarrange the whole of his defence.  He brought forward his arguments in the best way he could, and he hoped for the indulgence of the Court.  He would very briefly state what he saw of the mode of striking juries.  The Master of the Crown Office took the book in his hand, and, putting his pen between the leaves, selected the name that appeared against the pen.  The Master struck three juries for him in this way; but when he (the defendant) was leaving the office, he could not help observing, that out of 144 persons, there were only two whose names he had ever heard of before—he who had lived in London all his life, and had been actively engaged.  One of them was Mr. Sharpe, and he only know his name as a member of the House of Commons.  When, therefore, he saw those names he began to reflect whether the Master had struck the juries from a proper list; and Mr. Pearson, his attorney, conceiving that it was not a proper book, he (the defendant) afterwards sent a solemn protest to the Master of the Crown-office, when he knew Mr. Litchfield, the solicitor of the Treasury, would be present, against those Juries, and the result was, that the Crown abandoned its Special Juries; Mr. Litchfield waved the three juries which had been struck in his case.  The Crown consented to his discharge on his own recognizance.  Three weeks ago these informations were revived, and notices given of fresh juries, and of this trial.  He attended at the Crown office, and he was glad to find that a new book of good jurymen was coming down to the office.  He was told that a book containing the names of 8,000 persons in London would be sent down.  The book came down, and the Master chose the juries as before, but he did not take the names against which his pen struck.

    Mr. Justice Abbott.—I really cannot see how this bears upon the cause.  I shall not discharge my own duty if I suffer you to proceed.  I am unwilling to interfere, and prevent a defendant from stating any thing that bears upon his case, but I cannot see the least bearing in what you are now stating.

    Mr. Hone could assure his Lordship that he would not say any thing disrespectful to the Court, but he thought the point most important, and he hoped he should be allowed to proceed.

    A Juryman said, he also thought it might be material, on account of the notice which the public prints had taken of this subject.  The defendant, therefore, should have an opportunity of stating the facts truly.

    Mr. Justice Abbott regretted that the public prints should agitate these matters previous to trial.  As one of the gentlemen of the jury, however, wished to hear some explanation, the defendant might proceed.

    Mr. Hone resumed.—He had observed, that the Master did not

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take the name against which his pen struck, and assigned no reason for taking the name of Webb in the place of Moxon.  While the Master was pricking the jury, defendant could not see the name he took.  The Master stated, that as there was a cavil about the pen, he should nominate the jury as he thought proper.  He then opened the book, the Solicitor of the Treasury standing at the right hand, and Mr. Maule, assistant solicitor, standing on the left, and these two could see all the names.  The Master went page after page selecting the jury, sometimes he gave four names in succession without turning over a leaf, at others he went over seven, eight, ten, or a dozen pages, regularly examining every page before he gave a name.  In one instance he went over twenty-six pages, in another thirty-six pages, without giving out a name.  The defendant entered a protest against this mode of proceeding.  He made an affidavit of the facts, and on a motion to the Court put it in.  The Court decided (and to him it appeared the most extraordinary decision that ever was) that the Master was not bound to put the pen in his book.  Nay, Lord Ellenborough, in the presence of Mr. Justice Abbott, said that if the Master gave the defendant names in that way it would be giving a jury by lot, and that he was bound to select such persons as he thought proper.  The defendant could oppose nothing to that, except that it appeared to be an unfair mode.  He did not think that it ever was in the contemplation of law that the Crown should select such persons as it chose.  Under that impression he left the Court with what he conceived to be great injustice.  The judges all said, that to nominate meant to select.  Now he found that the Master of the Crown Office was nominated to the Crown by the Court, that is to say, the Court nominated four or five persons to the Crown, who selected one of them to fill the office.  Here, then, the Court nominated, and the Crown selected, so that nomination was not, in fact, selection.  He now came to his trial, and it was perfectly immaterial to him of what opinion the jury were, satisfied as he was that they would return a true verdict.  He had a very serious impression upon his mind of what his situation would be if a verdict went against him.  In that case he firmly believed that he should never return to his family from that court.  The Attorney-General was entitled to a reply; and though the learned gentleman had shewn great courtesy, he could not expect him to wave that right.  If he would, the defendant would engage to conclude in 20 minutes.  He did not see any disposition of that kind, and he would therefore proceed.  He should state nothing that was new, because he knew nothing that was new.  He had his books about him, and it was from them that he must draw his defence.  They had been the solace of his life; and as to on the Mr. Jones's little rooms in the Bench, where he had enjoyed a delightful view of the Surrey hills, they would afford him great consolation there, but his mind must be much distracted by the sufferings of his family.  He knew no distinction between public and private life.  Men should be consistent in their conduct; and he had endeavoured so to school his mind that he might give an explanation of every act of his life.  If he had ever done an injury to any one, it was by accident, and not be design; and, though some persons had lost money by him, there was not one who would say that he did not entertain a respect

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for him [the defendant].  From being a book-dealer he became a bookseller; and what was very unfortunate, he was too much attached to his books to part with them.  He had a wife and seven children, and had latterly employed himself in writing for their support.  As to parodies, they were as old, at least, as the invention of printing; and he never heard of a prosecution for a parody, either religious or any other.  There were two kinds of parodies; one in which a man might convey ludicrous or ridiculous ideas relative to some other subject; the other, where it was meant to ridicule the thing parodied.  The latter was not the case here, and therefore he had not brought religion into contempt.  It was remarkable that in October last a most singular parody was inserted in the Edinburgh Magazine, which was published by Mr. Blackwood.  The parody was written with a great deal of ability, and it was impossible but that the authors must have heard of this prosecution.  The parody was made on a certain chapter of Ezekiel, and was introduced by a preface, stating that it was a translation of a Chaldee manuscript preserved in a great library at Paris.  There was a key to the parody which furnished the names of the persons described in it.  The key was not published, but he had obtained a copy of it.  Mr. Blackwood is telling his own story; and the two cherubims were Mr. Cleghorn, a farmer, and Mr. Pringle, a schoolmaster, who had been engaged with him as editor of a former magazine; the "crafty man" was Mr. Constable; and the work the "ruled the nation" was the "Edinburgh Review."  The defendant then read a long extract from the parody, of which the following is a specimen:—

    "Now, in those days, there lived also a man who was crafty in counsel, and cunning in all manner of working: and I beheld the man, and he was comely and well favoured, and he had a notable horn in his forehead wherewith he ruled the nations.  And I saw the horn, that it had eyes, and a mouth speaking great things, and it magnified itself even to the Prince of the Host, and it cast down the truth to the ground, and it grew and prospered.  And when this man saw the book, and beheld the things that were in the book, he was troubled in spirit and much cast down.  And he said unto himself, why stand I idle here, and why do I not bestir myself?  Lo! this book shall become a devouring sword in the hand of my adversary, and with it will he root up or loosen the horn that is in my forehead, and the hope of my gains shall perish from the face of the earth.  And he hated the book, and the two beasts that had put words into the book, for he judged according to the reports of men; nevertheless, the man was crafty in counsel, and more cunning than his fellows.  And he said unto the two beasts, come ye and put your trust under the shadow of my wings, and we will destroy the man whose name is as ebony, and his book."

    He observed, that Mr. Blackwood was much respected by a great number of persons.

    Mr. Justice Abbott said, he could not think their respect could be increased by such a publication.  He must observe his disapprobation of it; and at the same time observed, that the defendant, by citing it, was only defending one offence by another.