HC Deb 14 March 1809 vol 13 cc423-538

The question being put, that the Debate on the Conduct of the Duke of York should be resumed,

Mr. Charles Williams Wynn

rose, and observed, that had it not been for the exhausted state of the house this morning he would have pressed upon its attention some considerations respecting the course of proceeding, which the hon. and learned gent., the Solicitor-General, had said to be so complicated, that it was impossible for any member to declare whether he should say Aye or No. It was, however, somewhat extraordinary, that the hon. and learned gent., making every allowance for his great ingenuity, should have understood in four minutes what he conceived it impossible for the other members to comprehend in four days. Mr. Wynn then stated some objections to the course proposed by the gentlemen on the other side, and expressed his conviction that the sense of the house could not be properly taken any way other than by that which he and his friends had adopted. The hon. and learned gent. had said, that the house was called upon not to adopt any Resolution prejudicial to the Duke of York till he had been brought to trial. The house had indeed been called upon, and in a manner incompatible with its privileges. This circumstance had suggested to him the propriety of proposing a Resolution, That it was the privilege of that house to inquire, and decide, and act upon their decision, without proceeding to any other mode of trial whatever. In support of this he mentioned the case of the Duke of Lauderdale, who had said that the King's Proclamations had the same force as Acts of Parliament, and for which he had been removed from office on an Address of the House.* Many cases of great importance might deserve the serious attention of that house, which it might not be proper to carry the length of a penal trial. For it might often happen, that the evidence, without being sufficient to support a penal conviction, might be strong enough to warrant that house in an Address for a removal from office. He thought the high court of Parliament had considerably narrowed its jurisdiction in some modern cases. In the old cases of Impeachment the Charge had been generally, That the accused had misdemeaned himself in his office, and the Peers had only to pronounce upon the evidence generally, whether it was or was not sufficient to support that charge. In the cases of Mr. Hastings and lord Melville, the impeachments had been drawn out in particular Articles, and the Lords were thus obliged to decide upon each singly, so that a mass of evidence which would be fully competent to warrant a decision of guilty on the whole, was thus frittered away.— *See Cobbett's Parliamentary History, v. iv, pp. 662–684. Suppose, for instance, there were fifty cases like that of Samuel Carter, the judges might justly hesitate to pronounce the accused guilty of a misdemeanor on one such case, or upon each singly, when they could have no difficulty whatever in deciding if the whole were taken together, and permitted to throw light upon each other. The modern method of proceeding rendered the proof so difficult that it was almost impossible to get at the delinquent. The charge which he considered as weighing heaviest upon the D. of Y., was one which could not be at all brought forward on a trial; he meant the case of Kennett. If that business had gone forward; if the D. of Y. had, in consideration of the loan, procured this man a situation under government, then the case would have been complete, and it might have been brought to trial. But the transaction was broken off, and therefore could form no ground of subsequent proceeding. But, did it not appear from this, that improper practices were permitted by the D. of Y. in the disposal of offices? Kennett first went to col. Taylor, and, perhaps aware of the anxiety of the D. of Y. for money, proposed to raise a loan for h. r. h. At the second interview, he stated his wish to be appointed to an office in the West Indies, and produced a letter from sir Horace Mann, intimating a desire to serve the bearer. This letter to a notorious money lender, and a bad character, certainly did suggest to him that he had acquired some power over sir H. Mann, of the same nature with that which he endeavoured to establish over the D. of Y. But the D. of Y. agreed to assist him, and there were only two ways, as far as he could understand, in which the D. of Y. could be defended: 1st, That he agreed to procure the office for this person on the recommendation of sir H. Mann, without any regard to the loan; or that having applied to another for the office, instead of giving it himself, there was no corruption. With regard to the first, it was impossible to believe that these transactions of the loan and the office were not connected together. The expression of sir H. Mann, That he would be happy to serve Kennett, was not a reason for the D. of Y. to take up the matter. The man himself understood it otherwise; for he talked to Greenwood of the office as a condition of the loan, and so Greenwood had represented the business to the D. of Y. and what did the D. of Y. say? Not that it was impossible that those two transactions should be mixed together; they both proceeded in conjunction, till the D. of Y. was informed, that Kennett was a bad character. The breaking off of the affair on this account had been pleaded in exculpation. But the real cause for putting an end to the negociation, was not merely the bad character of this man, who, it appeared, had been a fraudulent bankrupt, but the presumption, that owing to this circumstance, he was not a person of sufficient consequence to procure the loan which he promised. If this transaction had succeeded, it would have appeared to all who became acquainted with it, that in order to obtain an office under government, nothing more was necessary than to have gone to the Commander in Chief with the offer of a loan.—As to the charge of conniving at corruption, it was very difficult to disbelieve the connivance of the D. of Y. when one considered the words which Miss Taylor proved him to have addressed to Mrs. C. The evidence of Miss Taylor was unimpeached, and would have supported the strongest suspicion of corruption, although that of Mrs. C. should be placed entirely out of the question. The right hon. the Chancellor of the Exchequer had thought that the indignation at the mode of examination which she had undergone was unreasonable, because it had arisen from her having her father's and mother's names. This, however, was not the case. It was because she had been asked whether her mother was not in the Fleet prison. The right hon. gent. had stated this to be necessary to shew that she was an illegitimate child, whereas she had represented the contrary. If the right hon. gent. had given himself the trouble to examine the evidence, he would have found that she made no such representation, and he was persuaded he would not have asked such a question; for it was one which could have had no other effect than that of distressing the feelings of the witness. The consequence could only have been such as, according to the statement of the noble lord, (Folkestone) had been produced. Their creditors had been brought upon herself and her sister; executions had been sent into their house, and they had been driven out into the wide world. But the gentlemen had defended themselves by blaming some persons on his side for the question put to Nichols, as to the forgery of the will. The question whether he had forged the will had not been asked. He himself had stated, that he had received a letter from Mrs. C., and he had only been asked what were its contents. Even in the courts below, it was customary to ask witnesses whether they had not been charged with offences. But the question put to Miss Taylor, Whether her mother was in the Fleet Prison? had nothing to do with the business, because it made no difference whether she was or was not illegitimate. But, independent of the oral evidence, the documents on the table proved six instances in which Mrs. C. had been permitted to interfere. He put the cases of col. Shaw, and of cols. Brooke and Knight, out of the question for the present, because they rested principally upon the testimony of Mrs. C. But it was proved, by the documents on the table, that Mrs. C. had interfered in the case of gen. Clavering. And what had been the answer of h. r. h.? Did he express any resentment that Mrs. C. had taken upon herself to interfere in such matters? No: he had neither expressed resentment nor astonishment. He merely said that gen. Clavering was mistaken in supposing that new regiments were to be raised, and he desired Mrs. C. to tell him so. He never once hinted that the general had applied through an improper channel. The next case was that of maj. Tonyn, where the interference had been proved by the Note which the right hon. gent. had considered as doubtful. He was really surprised at this hesitating quality of the right hon, gent. He consisidered this practice when he was Attorney General. He had then eagerly pressed for the conviction of an Irish Judge (Mr. Justice Johnston), where the evidence rested entirely upon a comparison of hands-writing, and where it was much—much weaker than in the present instance, because in that case there were as many, or nearly so, on the side of the accused as on the side of the prosecutor(Hear! hear!). Here there was not a single person who was acquainted with the D. of Y.'s hand-writing who would venture to say that the Note was not his. He was surprised, therefore, that the right hon. gent., of all others, should think the Note in question so very doubtful as to its origin. Setting aside, then, all the rest of the evidence, it appeared incontrovertible from this Note that h. r. h. had permitted Mrs. C. to interfere in major Tonyn's business.—The next case was that of Samuel Carter. Many had expressed a wish to leave this case out of consideration; and as it appeared that this person had turned out well, he would have been willing to have done the same, and to have admitted that the degraded nature of the situation in which he had stood, had been washed away in his subsequent conduct. But it was impossible not to observe, that though we heard of such sudden elevations in novels and romances, in these they were ascribed to the merits of the persons raised, and not to the influence of such a woman as this. He begged of gentlemen to consider the effect which this would have on the army. He begged of them to look at a man first riding behind the carriage of Mrs. C., and then sitting down to table on terms of equality with their own sons. If h. r. h. had chosen to promote this man on the recommendation of Sutton, numberless opportunities had offered for that purpose. Of that there could be no doubt, when it was considered what large additions had been made, in different ways, to the force of the country, in 1803. It was impossible, therefore, to have any hesitation in deciding that this man had been raised by the influence of Mrs. C. Mrs. C. said so. The young man himself said so, in a letter which did him a great deal of honour, and which also did much honour to Mrs. C. This case, then, fully proved the almost boundless influence over h. r. h. possessed by this woman; for it was one of the last things that could have been listened to, had it not been for this circumstance, and if the whole had been known, it would have been regarded as a personal affront by every officer in the regiment to which he was appointed (Hear! hear!). The fourth case was that of Dr. O'Meara, which proved that the influence of Mrs. C. was not confined to military promotions, but extended to instances where all decency was outraged. The fifth case was that of Mr. Elderton, where her interference was proved by his own letters; while the step taken by the D. of Y., in mentioning him to Greenwood, shewed his knowledge of the transaction. He had seen little in Mrs. C. that added to the great objection against her, which arose from her situation, but his vote would have been the same, though her evidence had been expunged.—Mr. Wynn then replied to the objections against the evidence of Mr. Dowler. This gentleman appeared to have been the favourite paramour of Mrs. C. and had expended considerable sums of money upon her, and on that account it had been asserted that he was not to be believed when he said that he had given her 1,000l. for his place in the Commissariat. But why should his having expended a great deal of money upon her be an argument against his giving 1,000l. for this appointment? It had been said that this was more than the appointment was worth. Perhaps so; but was it incredible that Dowler should, with a view to favour Mrs. C., persuade his father to give more for it than it was worth? He had not, indeed, confessed his having slept with Mrs. C. But, surely, something was to be allowed for that feeling of decency which did not altogether abandon even the most profligate persons. Dowler had stated at the bar, that he had got the appointment solely through the influence of Mrs. C. In opposition to this, it had been said that he himself had affirmed that he had got it through the interest of Sir Brook Watson. This, however, was explained by the circumstance of his having a constant desire to conceal that he owed the appointment to Mrs. C. If he had got the appointment through the influence of Sir Brook Watson, was it not extraordinary that no traces of this could be found in the papers of Sir Brook, a man who was remarkable for his accuracy in all his transactions? Was it not extraordinary that no traces of it should exist in the Treasury or any where else? All these things confirmed the evidence of his having got the appointment through the influence of Mrs. C. with the D. of Y. Dowler's father besides followed a different line of politics from Sir Brook Watson; and upon the whole, if any person was to be in future in the situation of Mrs. C., the officers of the army could not easily be convinced that she would not have similar influence, and might go and offer her money. The Chancellor of the Exchequer's proposed Address went to express the confidence of the house, that, from the regret which h. r. h. had stated himself, as feeling on account of his connection with Mrs. C. no such connection would be formed in future. In that confidence he was sorry he could not join, and the letter of h. r. h. did not express any general regret for his conduct; but merely a regret that he had ever formed a connection which had been attended with such consequences. He did not say that the delinquency was equal on the part of h. r. h., whether he knew of Mrs. C. taking money for these appointments, or whether he imagined that she gave them gratuitously. But he must say that the effect would be equally pernicious with respect to the army. If a kept mistress was known to have influence, the officers of the army might be desirous of paying their court to her, they might be seen in her company and at her parties: and it might even be more agreeable to those gentlemen to deal with her for money rather than be found in constant attendance at the levees of a courtezan: (Hear! hear!). Reports were current long before the Inquiry commenced in that house, of the sort of influence exercised over h. r. h.'s mind, and the truth of these were confirmed by the evidence now on the table. There was but one way to remove these impressions, and that was, by removing h. r. h. from his office. He thought the bare influence, independent of taking money, sufficient to warrant an Address to that effect. He did not altogether go along with the Address of the hon. gent. behind him (Mr. Wardle), because it stated the fact of connivance at Mrs. C.'s taking money for her influence, rather more pointedly, perhaps than the evidence warranted. He could not at all concur in the proposition of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who wished the house to decide upon one part of the case, omitting the rest. The case of non liquet, which had been adverted to last night by an hon. and learned gent. (sir S. Romilly), applied here, for though he could not say that h. r. h. was guilty of connivance, there was enough in the evidence to warrant the strongest suspicion, and the most proper decision he could give was this, that connivance had not been fully proved. When gentlemen talked of the hardship of the course adopted by those with whom he concurred (Mr. Bankes and others) they ought to recollect that this house was not a Grand Jury deciding ex parte; but that the evidence on both sides had been fully gone into, and that nearly as much time had been spent in examining evidence to disprove the charges, as had been employed in examination of witnesses to support them. The hon. gent. concluded with saying that he should certainly vote for Mr. Bankes's Amendment.

Mr. Croker.

—Sir; I feel conscious that at a later hour I may be prevented, by the increase of an indisposition under which I labour, from being able to merit that attention from the house which I am at all times anxious to obtain, but now more particularly require, when I have to discuss (and perhaps at some length) a question of such extraordinary importance and complication. I trust the house will do me the justice to consider the difficulties with which, in my present situation, I have to contend. It is not only, that, as the debate advances, one is called upon to answer a greater variety of objections, which naturally arise; but I have the further disadvantage of knowing, that many of the most pregnant topics have been already exhausted, and that the effect of what may remain for me to say, has been weakened by the arguments and eloquence of my predecessors in the debate.

I was anxious to have followed the hon. bart. (Sir F. Burdett) who spoke last night; but being then prevented, I shall take this occasion, the earliest that offers itself to me, of adverting to the insinuations which that hon. bart. then made against the conduct which had been pursued, in some instances, during this important discussion. The hon. bart. had been pretty profuse of his advice to, and his censure on, the Legal Gentlemen on both sides of the house, and he had not always clothed his observations in the most modest or delicate terms. If I could venture to imitate the hon. bart., and to give advice where it was not asked, I should suggest to him, that the speech he had lately delivered was that which did the least credit to his judgment or his taste; that it seems to me, that the pleasantry at which the hon. bart. had laboured, was not worth the pains it cost him; and that, in future, I should advise him to restrain his efforts after humour, and prudently adhere to his sounding phrases, and serious declamation.

But the hon. bart., I am aware, is not without a motive for assuming this derisory tone: he has acted not unwisely in endeavouring, though rather unsuccessfully, to ridicule the professors of the law, and slight their opinions. The hon. bart. felt, that, if this case was to be considered on the principles of our national rights; if the evidence was to be here weighed in the scales of common justice; if the credit of witnesses was to be measured by the usual standards; he felt, I say, that his opinions never could prevail, that his conclusions never could be established. When, therefore, the hon. bart. appeared to sneer at lawyers, he was, in fact, sneering at the law itself; which, on the present occasion, it suited his purpose to depreciate. He knows, Sir, as well as I do, that if the law stands our guide and beacon; if in this trial, as in all others, we steer by its unsullied light; there is indeed no hope of triumph for him; and he feels it prudent to depreciate the suffrages of those, whose learning might detect, and whose eloquence could expose, his errors. But is the study of the law the only one, of all the employments and businesses of mankind, which imparts a peculiar character, and fixes an indelible mark on the human mind? Does, for instance, the hon. bart. mean to say that the trade or calling of being a Candidate, which he has so long pursued, might not affect his judgment and tinge his opinions? Will it be denied, that the habit of flattering popular feelings, and of catching the applause of the multitude, might influence the mind, especially on an occasion in which popular passions had been so violently excited? The one observation, I am sure, is as well founded as the other. The purpose of our assembling here, the very essential nature of a debate, is, that we may influence the sentiments of each other: and I trust, the house, and, in its sober mind, the country, will agree with me in thinking, that, when the question is to determine upon the credit of witnesses, and the weight of testimony, we should defer to the judgments of those (if of any) who have made such objects the study of their lives; and should bestow at least as much confidence on the practitioners of Westminster-hall, as on the orators of Covent Garden and Brentford. (Loud acclamations of hear! hear!)

Before I proceed to a larger consideration of the subject, there is one point which I must bring to the notice of the house; and it is one upon which I really wish the hon. bart. himself had condescended voluntarily to offer some explanation, as it is in a great measure personal to him. A witness, of the name of Donovan, had deposed at the bar, that Mrs. C., in the course of some efforts which she made to induce the witness to join her in this prosecution against the D. of Y., informed him, as an additional allurement, that she was strongly supported, and that some persons had offered her considerable sums of money for the possession of her papers.

When called upon to name the persons whom she had mentioned, Donovan, with evident unwillingness, great agitation, and every outward sign of sincerity, answered that Sir F. Burdett, and a capt. Dodd, who holds some place about the Duke of Kent, were the persons. Sir, it will be recollected, that, at that time, I expressed my disbelief of this story of Mrs. C.'s; and, as neither the hon. bart. nor capt. Dodd were present to defend themselves, I did attempt to extract the truth of this matter from her; but I own, in vain! Now, Sir, it may or may not be true that these gentlemen did make this offer; but it cannot be doubted that she so represented it to Donovan, and that her denial of it here is only an additional one to the thousand fables with which she has already employed our nights. Donovan gave his evidence with marks of truth that are not forgotten, and cannot be doubted; and he is most strongly corroborated by Mrs. C.'s own Letter to Mr. Adam, in which, speaking of those papers, she says, 'On Tuesday I have promised to give them up, if I hear nothing further after this last notice; and when once out of my possession, it will be impossible to recal them. It is to gentlemen, and not to any publisher, that they will be committed; and these gentlemen are just as obstinate as h. r. h. and more independent: they are acquaintances of yours; and to relieve my wants, and in pique to others, will do what the Duke will not.' These words undeniably confirm what Donovan states in every point; except that to Donovan she confided the names, and that to Mr. Adam she gives only the description, but a description almost as accurate as the names would have been. It is, sir, upon this ground that I call on the hon. bart. to explain his part of this affair; either to acknowledge (which I own I do not expect) the offer, or else to contradict Mrs. C.'s assertion to Donovan, which I am prepared to believe he will.

After the comprehensive and minute speech of an hon. gent. opposite (Mr. Whitbread), and the brilliant eloquence and irresistible argument of my right hon. friend (Mr. Perceval,) I shall not weary the house with more of the details of evidence than are absolutely necessary to explain my own views of the subject. I know, sir, how much this thrice-told tale must now vex the ear of the house, and, for my own sake, heartily wish that I could altogether dispense with any reference to matter that no abilities could enliven, and which in my hands must become alike wearisome to my hearers and myself.

I shall therefore not wade through that odious mass, the evidence of Mrs. C. I will not exhibit the ten thousand falsehoods which it contains. I will not waste your time by showing, that in almost every answer, on every subject, every thing is false, or, at least, at variance with the evidence of others and of herself. I shall confine myself to the exposure of some calumnies, and the refutation of some pointed insinuations against the D. of Y.; which course, while it does justice to him, will also exhibit in the strongest light the incredibility of Mrs. Clarke.

I own, sir, I have net seen and heard without deep indignation the credit and the applause which this woman has received, the praises we have heard of her talents and her wit! Sir, her talents are audacity, and her wit falsehood! and any other person, who would equally dare to cast modesty and truth as far aside as she has done, would merit the same eulogies. I do not mean to say that she is altogether unartful in her falsehood, or thoughtless in her audacity. I do not mean to say that she has not had cunning advisers, and that she does not execute with some show of success their concerted projects. I believe she does; and to this it is that we owe the apparent reluctance with which she appeared at our bar. She was, I doubt not, informed, and very truly, that the voluntary evidence of an accomplice would be received with great caution; and to give a contrary and false colour to her testimony, was therefore her earliest care. Her first attempt at this delusion was her denial of having had any intercourse with the hon. member opposite (col. Wardle), on the day previous to her examination: 'She had not seen him at all on that day:' and she gave her reasons for being so positive in her recollection. The hon. member did not at first contradict her so decidedly as might have been expected; but, after a day or two, he begged leave to correct his evidence; and then indeed the opposition between them became pretty direct;—she saying that they had not seen each other at all; he owning at first, to two, and, on being pressed, to three, interviews. Nor was it a falsehood into which a defect of memory could have betrayed her, because it occurred during an examination on the Wednesday, relative to what had passed the very day before; and further, it appears that on that very morning of the Wednesday, she wrote a note to Mr. Donovan, stating 'that she had seen col. Wardle the day before, and that they had had conversations about this business, and advising Donovan not to be backward, in considera- tion of which he should not be pressed on other subjects.' This needs no comment. She denies a fact that is incontestably true, and which she must have remembered, merely that she may impose upon us, and receive a degree of credence, to which, if the truth had been told, she feels that she has no claim. The noble lord says that Mrs. C. has been in no one instance contradicted by a credible witness; she is here contradicted by the hon. member; is he credible? But it does not even rest on his credit, for her own letter is decisive against her.

Again, sir, she would have persuaded us that she is so entirely adverse to this proceeding against the Duke, that "if she had guessed that Mr. Wardle had meaned to make this use of her information, she would have denied it all:" rather than bring the Duke to this shame, she would deny it all! This, indeed, is the height of magnanimity. The Duke ill treats her, the Duke discards her; yet she has no wish to injure him in return! Why, sir, had this been true, every word that she uttered would have stamped itself on our consciences: every spark of evidence that was elicited from her would have been a flash of light to us, a torch of shame to the criminal. Nay, had she been (not a reluctant) but even an indifferent and unbiassed witness, with what effect would she have spoken, with what efficacy might she have accused! But when we find that this reluctant witness is herself the feeder and the fanner of the flame; when we see that she testifies in public, what she concerts in private; when we know her to be not only a witness, but a procuress of witnesses; when we find her raking for evidence even among discarded servants, and forgetting even her sex and her assumed station in this pursuit; and when, to finish the picture, we behold her trying to conceal all this under the masquerade dress of reluctance: what man, I will not say what lawyer (their opinions the hon. baronet considers as worse than nothing), but, what honest man will credit so profligate a witness?

She continues this farce even further; and tells us that "Col. Wardle took from her, against her will and by force, the letters which most of all have led to this." Whether the hon. member did take those Letters by force or not, lies with him to explain (for, I own, I do not think that what we have hitherto heard from him is at all satisfactory): but, at all events, her representation of the effect of those letters must be false, and of no more consideration than her other pretences; for they, in fact, do not at all relate to h. r. h., nor to any matter now under our discussion; they are Donovan's letters to her, and dated in December last. Here then we have the real cause of her anger at their production; this indeed afflicts her, not because they inculpate the D. of Y., but because they acquit him. The hon. member, however he may have obtained these letters, undoubtedly deserves our commendation for having produced them. Where the hon. gent. deserves our praise, it would be unjust not to bestow it; and he has, in bringing these letters before us, acted with extreme candour indeed, for they are, in fact, a deathblow to his charges. They exhibit, we allow, a scene of deep and varied corruption; they offer instances of the traffic for preferments in church and state; and they prove incontestibly that there is hardly any situation so high, that knaves may not pretend to be able to sell, and that dupes may not hope to have opportunities of buying. But all this corruption is not the Duke's, nor the Duke's mistress's. These letters are dated more than two years and a half after the dismissal of Mrs. C.; dated at a time that these charges were actually in preparation, not six weeks before they were exhibited, in Nov. and Dec. 1808! Good God, sir, can those who, on Mrs. C.'s evidence, believe the D. of Y. to be guilty, have read that evidence; or can they have adverted to these facts, that at this very hour there is a sum of 800l. lodged at a banker's, to be paid for an office which Mrs. C. pretends she is able to procure; that this woman at this moment has her dupes; that she now represents herself as influencing the duke of Portland, as she formerly represented herself as influencing the Duke of York; that an attorney at Fishmongers' Hall acts the part of her duke of Portland; and, above all, that she confesses that she leads her associates to believe, that her power with h. r. h. still exists? Now, sir, even now, while I address you, there are wretches in this town whom she is plundering, under the pretence of influence with the D. of Y.!!! Will those who put their trust in Mrs. C., be so good as to inform the house why we are to believe her representations relative to 1805 to be true, when we find the same assertions made in 1808, and that we know them to be false? Does any man give the slightest credit to the story of her present influence with the Dukes of York and Portland? and if not, on what grounds does the testimony of her former influence stand? If Glasse's case, and those of Bazely, Ludewick, Maltby, and the rest, had occurred while she lived in Gloucester-place, should we not have had them as triumphantly objected—would they not have been thundered in this house, and trumpetted through the streets, with as much loudness and confidence as those of Shaw, and Carter, and Tonyn, now are?

Sir, in despite of the censures of the hon. baronet, I do appeal, seriously and solemnly appeal, to the matured judgment of legal experience; I appeal to the codes that have been transmitted to us from our venerable masters in the science of British laws and British liberties; nay, move, I appeal to that common sense and sound reason, which is the foundation of all law; and ask, whether, even as the matter now stands, we ought to convict the Duke of York on the testimony of this pretended accomplice?

Of the masquerade of reluctance which she had assumed, she was soon weary. The disguise, of itself so thin, and even at first so carelessly worn, was at last thrown aside altogether. Behold her then, with avowed malice at her heart, detected falsehood upon her tongue, and flagrant impudence on her forehead, straining her invention, and torturing her imagination, for circumstances of guilt, to charge upon him whom she but just now represented herself as unwilling to accuse.

The hon. baronet has called this story a drama. It is, sir, a drama: there is in it plot, and fable, and assumption of character, but there is neither reality nor truth. Mrs. C. has, if he pleases, acted well; but it is only acting: she is playing a fictitious part, taught her, perhaps, by others; and, like most dramatic heroines, we should think differently of her, were we to see her off the stage, stripped of her disguises and adventitious decorations. The hon. baronet has continued his theatrical allusion still further, and more to the honour of Mrs. C.'s veracity. He says he should as soon believe that she had written Macbeth, as have invented this story! Alas, sir, this story has too many points of resemblance to that celebrated play, in which a weak man becomes the instrument of a daring woman; where ambition and ingratitude plant a dagger in a royal heart; where there are dark contrivers and "juggling fiends, To palter with us in a double sense, And break the word of promise; and lead, by their fallacious testimony, to the overthrow of moral order and civil society. But there is, among a thousand others, this difference between the invention of our immortal poet, and the fabrication of Mrs. C.: that the vicious characters of the former are exhibited to excite our detestation, and, while the eyes and ears of mankind are captivated by the scene, to engage their hearts in the abhorrence of similar atrocity, "Delectando pariterque monendo;" while the dramatis personœ of Mrs. C. find, not only their acting, but their crimes applauded; and encouragement and success, instead of punishment and defeat, are extended to every malignant feeling of our nature.

I am now led, sir, to observe on some parts of Mrs. C.'s evidence, in which she, by the discolouring and exaggeration of facts and circumstances, endeavours to raise, against the Duke, suspicions the most unfounded and injurious, and to cast upon him imputations the most false and odious.

The first instance of this class, with which I shall trouble the house, is that in which she would persuade us, that the Duke must have known of her having received 500l. from col. French, became he paid the balance between that sum, and the price of a service of plate, which she had bought; and, lest it should be supposed that he might have paid it without knowing to whom, or for what, she fixes the delinquency on him by two falsehoods, namely, that he paid it by bills of his own, and that he told her so. Now, sir, supposing that the Duke did know that Mrs. Clarke had credit in her tradesman's book for 500l. did it, of necessity, follow, he must have known whence it came? Indeed, the hon. member and Mrs. C. were not themselves very accurate on this point; for it was stated, on opening the charges, that this 500l. came, not from French, but from Tonyn. This, however, is but a trifling consideration; and, though every surmise and inference is taken as good evidenced for Mrs. Clarke, I am aware that nothing but the strictest facts will be received in the Duke's defence: for that part of the Duke's defence, which may be in my hands, I have no objection to be so restricted. The price of this service of plate was 1,360l.; so that, of course, the house would expect, from Mrs. C.'s statement, that the Duke's payment was only the balance, viz. 800l.; whereas, in fact, the Duke paid 1,320l. being, with a fraction, the whole amount of the plate, and, therefore, he might see the service on his table, without any surprise. But did he pay this sum himself? Did he tell Mrs. C. of it? Did she never see the bills, as she alledges? The money was paid by bills, drawn by herself on the Duke; who, it appears, never inquired any-farther into the matter. It may be very true, that Mrs. C. paid her silversmith 500l.; but she forgot to tell us, that, besides the service of plate, she had gotten divers small articles to about that amount. The Duke paid for the service of plate, which he saw and used; but is it likely that he surveyed and reviewed every lesser article in her butler's pantry? I appeal to the house, whether the impression intended by Mrs. C. was not, that the Duke must have known that she had a service of plate, towards the buying of which 500l. had been paid out of the produce of corruption? Is not that impression, if ever made, now removed? Can a doubt remain, when we see the Duke paying the full amount of this plate, and not a balance remaining due? and are our understandings to be still insulted with the praises of Mrs. C.'s veracity?

Let me now call your attention, sir, to another instance of malevolent misrepresentation, on the part of this woman, when she states, "That the D. of Y. sent her a message, that he would put her in the Bastile, or pillory; and that he sent it by a particular friend of his." When she was asked, who this particular friend of h. r. h.'s was, she replied, with that malignant emphasis which we all remember, "One Taylor, a shoemaker in Bond-street." Of Taylor, I only know that she thought it a disgrace to be acquainted with him; and, therefore, she so represented the D. of Y.; and I could not but observe, that the house received the alleged fact with strong marks of indignation. So far Mrs. C.'s object was fulfilled; but further inquiry has dispelled the imputation. It is now proved that this Taylor, the friend and ambassador, as she said, of the Duke to her, did not, in fact, bring any message from the Duke; he came from Mr. Greenwood: but he was not even this gentleman's messenger, but Mrs. C.'s own. She had sent Taylor with a note to Mr. Greenwood, and Mr. Greenwood had returned an answer by the same messenger; and, on this foundation, she had dared to call her own messenger, Taylor the shoemaker, the messenger and friend of h. r. h. The expressions, too, of the message she states herself to have received, are almost too absurd for serious contradiction: they have, however, been contradicted; and, in the whole story, it is now apparent, that there was not one single circumstance of truth, and that it was produced for the sole purpose of casting a temporary disgrace on the character of the D. of Y.—What, now, are we to believe from this witness? What fact did she allege mere boldly than this; and what was calculated to excite greater indignation, and what, in fact, did produce a more unfavourable effect? Yet it is false, notoriously false! false, by Mr. Greenwood's evidence; false, even by her own confession.

But her chief object, that at which she the oftenest laboured, and, for a long while, with the greatest success, was to persuade the house, and the public, that, from the very nature of her establishment, the D. of Y. must have been aware that it was supported by corrupt and dishonourable means. I say, sir, that in exciting this belief she had some success. I hope, sir, (if that success has not been already destroyed) that, by showing the circumstances of proof which she adduces to be altogether false, or entirely discoloured, I shall remove any hesitation that may linger in the mind of the house.

First, sir, she states that h. r. h. allowed her but 1,000l. per ann. for the support of her entire establishment; and that he gave her 500l. at first to purchase plate, linen, and other immediate necessaries; and, she added, that even this sum of 1,000l. per ann. was hardly ever regularly paid. But, besides this 500l. for plate and linen, she had forgotten to state, that the Duke had paid 1,320l. for plate alone. It appears, too, that he sent in large quantities of wine; and had given her, as she owns herself, occasionally, various sums of 100l. and 200l. over and above the 1,000l. per ann.; and she states, that "she will not venture to say, that these occasional sums did not amount to 5,000l." What she will not venture to contradict, may, I think, be fairly presumed to be true. She lived at Gloucester-place about two years and two months; and when the D. of Y. had bought and furnished the house, sent in wine, paid the chief, tradesmen's bills, bought a carriage, given 1,320l. for linen and plate, presented her with large presents of various kinds, and given her besides the 2,000l. per anu. upwards of 5,000l. in cash, I think, sir, he may be well forgiven, for supposing that he defrayed the expense of her establishment; and really it seems to me, that, if he be censurable, it is for profusion and prodigality, rather than for a mean or ungenerous spirit. The Duke's case is, in this point, peculiarly hard; and whichever way he turns, he is sure to meet the accusation of his candid opponent. Does it appear that he allowed Mrs. C. but a thousand a-year, then he is the basest of mankind to eat at her table, live at her house, enjoy all the extravagant luxury of her establishment, with a certain knowledge that he was sharing the produce of infamy. If h. r. h. refutes this odious charge, then, sir, the indignation is directed, not against the witness who belied him, but against his Iavish folly and injustice, who spends the money of the people, the earnings of the poor, the produce of our public burthens, on a prostitute. I do not enter the lists to defend h. r. h. from the charge of improper expenditure on this woman; but let us not at once, censure him for this offence, and give credit to her who has charged him with the contrary.

"The Duke," she goes on to say, "must have been aware that 1,000l. would not keep my establishment, because I convinced him early, that it did not pay the servants' wages and liveries." How she contrived to convince the Duke of this fact, I cannot guess; I am sure she cannot convince the house. We know that Mrs. C. had but six servants, a butler, a coachman, and a footman, an housekeeper, and two {I presume) other female servants. We have seen the three men at our bar, and certainly none of them appear entitled to extraordinary wages. The housekeeper, Mrs. Favery, we also know; and she, it appears, received no wages at all. And as to liveries, however expensive they may have been, it appears that only the coachman and footman wore them. How, then, is it possible, that 1,000l. could be spent on the wages of five servants, and the liveries of two? The noble lord opposite (lord Folkestone), to support Mrs. C.'s statement, says, that he himself could not keep such a house as Mrs. C.'s under many thousands a-year; but the noble lord owns that he is but a bad economist: with all his want of economy, however, I should be sorry to hear the noble lord say that he could not make 1,000l. go further than this. The fact is, that Mrs. C. has here, as every where else, sacrificed all truth and probability to the temptation of casting even a momentary shade over h. r. h.'s character.

She now reaches the very pinnacle of her audacity. Having by insinuations, as well as direct charges, arraigned h. r. h. of having connived at her corruption, she now soars a higher flight of falsehood, and accuses him of having himself first suggested it.

"The Duke," she says, "about half a year after I went to Gloucester-place, on my being very much distressed, and pressing him for relief, told me, that I had more interest than the Queen, and that, if I was clever, I need never trouble him for money." Good God! can such an assertion be believed; that the name of his august mother was used to encourage the corruption of his mistress, that the influence of the Queen was represented as dimming its ineffectual light before the splendour of Mrs. C.? Could h. r. h. have so far forgotten all his duties, as to make so scandalous a proposal, disgraceful to him at once as a man, as a prince, as a son? Certainly, sir, to be thus guilty were the extreme of meannes, and dishonour. (Hear, hear! from the Opposition.) I am happy to hear these cheers; they doubtless proceed from the good and honest feelings of the hon. gentlemen opposite; and I therefore expect to receive from them the same encouragement, when I come to show that h. r. h. is innocent of this baseness, to prove that it is Mrs. C.'s own device, and to pour upon her head the vengeauce due to so detestable a calumny. What! can any gentleman believe that the Duke would have made such a suggestion? What could have been his motive? the keeping Mrs. C.'s table without expence to himself? for all her other expences he specifically defrayed! Ridiculous! If the D. of Y. had a soul framed for devising such a plan of public plunder, he would have had some greater object: the entire saving of Mrs. C.'s establishment would have been too paltry an allurement. The expences of her table, indeed? an adequate object truly for such a risk! On the mere abstract consideration of human motives, I should think this charge might be dismissed. But there is better evidence than any that arises from argument and deduction. The Duke may be acquitted by the very tongue that has spoken the accusation: Mrs. C. herself shall disprove the slander she has uttered.

Let us observe the date of this supposed conversation. "It was," said she, "a long time after I went to Gloucester-place, I should think about half a year, when I became distressed for money; and then it was that the Duke put me on this expedidient." Now she went to Gloucester-place in March 1804, and her half year, or six months, would bring the period to about September 1804. Yet, behold! her traffic commenced with French in the preceding February, and continued through March and April; with Tonyn, in March: with Spedding and Bacon, probably about the same time, certainly not later than July; and Sandon, her chief agent and purveyor of dupes, appears to have personally commenced his corrupt practices with her at latest, in May. General Clavering's offer, too, of 1,000l. (which he was induced to make from bearing that she was in the habit of taking money), though we cannot ascertain the day on which it was made, must have been considerably prior to the 30th of June 1804; because we find this offer took place before she and Clavering knew each other, and was indeed the cause of their acquaintance; and that we find, by the date of their letters, that they were very intimate so early as the month of June. Thus, then, the great mass of charge is brought, not within six only, but even within four months of her removal to Gloucester place. Nay, the so-much-insisted upon case of col. French was in negotiation prior to that event.

But this is not all. In every attempt to corroborate her statements, she gives us further clues to develope its falsity. "She was perfectly free from debt when she went to Gloucester-place, and her distresses for money commenced in about six months after." This, sir, is clearly intended to prove, that it was neither rapacity nor prodigality that induced Mrs. C. to follow the Duke's advice, in selling her influence; that she was in no want for six months, and then became so only by the expences of her establishment. Now, to contradict Mrs. C., I shall produce only Mrs. C. herself. One of the letters found at Sandon's is directed to col. French, and runs in these words: "I tell you, you can materially serve me by giving me a bill for 200l. for two months or ten weeks. I like capt. Sandon of all things: he, I suppose, is to be the managing person." The first part of this letter, I think, proves that Mrs. C was distressed for money; the second will enable us to ascertain its date. It is indorsed by Sandon, "First letter from Mrs. C.;" and was evidently written just after their first interview, and before there was any intimacy between them. But this interview is known to have taken place not later than the beginning of May, about the time of col. French's departure for Ireland: and in the first week in June, we find, by their letters, Mrs. C. and Mr. Sandon on the most familiar terms. The note in question was then, written, at latest, in the middle of May: and thus about two months after her removal to Gloucester-place, was Mrs. C. distressed for money. Again, sir, the 500l. first given her by French (though promised much earlier) had been paid to her before Sandon ever saw her; and therefore, having just received this 500l. she was still distressed for 200l. more. Tonyn's 500l. she was in treaty about in June; and that sum, together with the greater part, if not the whole, of Sandon's 850l. must have been paid within the six months. Thus, then, to recapitulate, we find, from written documents and her own evidence, that before the expence of the establishment came upon her, and before the Duke had hinted the use of her influence, she had been in negotiation for no less than 4,250l., of which she had actually, within the specified period, received 1,850l.

These dates and facts, sir, cannot be controverted: and I now would ask the most zealous of Mrs. C.'s advocates, what ingenuity, what art, can clear her of the guilt of deliberate and malignant falsehood? I am rather, I confess, disappointed at not now hearing those cheers from the hon. gentlemen opposite, which from their conduct some minutes since, I was led to expect would have followed the detection of the profligacy, whenever it was detected. I suppose their abhorrence and consternation ate so great, that they have not voices to express their feelings (a laugh). If this be the case, I fear they will not so soon recover themselves, as the next circumstance I shall allude to is of a still deeper dye; I mean, her assertion that the reason the D. of Y. had parted with her was, "that she had refused to plead her coverture to elude her debts."

Let us pause a moment on this charge! Can any be more enormous? A prince of the royal blood conspiring with his mistress to swindle their tradesmen, and designing to accomplish this happy project by putting her prostitution and adultery upon record! She, indeed, has some feelings of honesty, if not of honour, left: lost as she is to so many virtues, she is not lost to all: she opposes this royal design; and, in reward for her integrity, is dismissed to penury, and the persecution of the very creditors whom she refused to defraud! Good heaven, sir! if this matter were proved, all the other charges would sink into insignificance. How poor and petty would every other allegation appear! What power in this house, in this nation, could save the D. of Y. from signal punishment? But if this accusation is the most boldly made, so it is the most falsely. Of all the stains that have been cast against the Duke's good name, this is the most unmerited; of all suspicions, this is the most unfounded; nay, the most absolutely contradicted, the most entirely refuted. From whom had Mrs. Clarke her information, that this was the cause of separation? She tells us, "From her own lawyer!" That very gentleman we have called to our bar; him, her own authority, we have examined; the very channel of her knowledge we have searched: what do we find that this very lawyer says? that "he had indeed an interview with the Duke, relative to his separation from Mrs. Clarke; at which the Duke told him, that he had received information that she had been guilty of the very improper conduct of pleading her coverture to an action for goods sold and delivered; and that this was the cause of the separation." And his royal highness added, "After such a thing as this, it is impossible but we must part." Thus, sir, vanishes this transcendant accusation! Thus, sir, is established, not the falsehood only, but the malignant falsehood of Mrs. Clarke! Thus, sir, we see her charging her own crimes on the Duke of York, and attempting to render him odious by the imputation of her own offences; representing him as the most worthless of mankind on the very charges, that, recoiling on herself, have proved her to be the falsest of witnesses, and the worst of women!

These, sir, are not "unimportant contradictions" that I have quoted; they are not of that slight degree, or extraneous nature, which Mrs. C.'s advocates have represented her errors to have been, whenever, indeed, they have admitted her to have been in error at all. These are not mistakes about "trivial matters," or mis- representations of "irrelevant" circumstances; they are falsehoods in the very base and foundation of her testimony; they are the effects of prepense malice in the design, and of deliberate perjury, I may call it, in the execution. If her general prevarication has not divested her of every remnant of credit, these instances must strip her even of the shreds.

Will any man, sir, but the noble lord (Folkestone) deny these inferences? The noble lord, I know, will: he has called Mrs C., among other fine names, "an incontrovertible witness," and has declared that he devotedly relies on her. This, sir, is a whimsical, I should rather say lamentable, turn of mind, undoubtedly; but not altogether unexpected by those who heard the noble lord's attack on the veracity of col. Gordon. I beg the hon. baronet's pardon: he, too, had similar sentiments of col. Gordon and Mrs. C.; and had borrowed, not only the ideas, but the very words, of the noble lord. Sir, I should be ashamed to attempt a defence of col. Gordon from these charges; I should degrade him, and do injustice to the house, by supposing it necessary to do so; and I therefore only allude to this matter, that I may contrast his evidence with that of Mrs. C.; and show how much the mind of the noble lord, and his honourable imitator, must have been warped or deluded, when they put in competition her testimony with that of col. Gordon. Really, sir, it seems to me, the noble lord and hon. bart. have that sort of perverse and depraved taste, which we sometimes hear of in sick persons, whose palates prefer that which is hurtful and indigestible, to what is wholesome and good. The noble lord has said, that col. Gordon had kept back important matter; that when he was called upon to produce the papers respecting the exchange of col. Knight and col. Brooke, there was one paper, relating to that business, which he did not bring forward till near the end of the inquiry, and then on another subject. The noble lord was hard run for an example of col. Gordon's misconduct, when he made this charge. The paper which was not produced at first, is the Letter which relates to col. Knight and col. Pleydell; and with col. Pleydell's papers it was, according to the regularity of office, deposited. To keep an office in such a state, as that in which col. Gordon keeps his; to be able, after the lapse of years, to turn to any name, and produce all the minute docu- ments connected with that name; can only be accomplished by the most diligent system; a system which evidently existed in that office, but which the noble lord, it seems, neither appreciates nor understands; for he complains that this letter, relating to col. Pleydell, was not found wish the letters relating to col. Brooke. Why, sir, if, contrary to all reason, it had been placed with Brooke's papers, when the noble lord came to ask for Pleydell's, he would then have had a more grievous complaint to make of its not being amongst them. What does the noble lord mean? or what would he have? If I, or any of my countrymen, were to make such an objection as this, I am persuaded the noble lord, or the hon. and facetious bart., would have made merry with the blunder, and have said that we wished to have the same letter in two places at once. But the noble lord makes a more heavy insinuation against col. Gordon; he charges him with having made one of his observations in pencil. I do not know that a pencil mark is more difficult to be made, but I know it is more easy to be erased than that which is written in ink; and, therefore, if col. Gordon had wished to conceal it, he might without any difficulty have erased it altogether.

The pencilled note was, in its first view (and, indeed, an hon. gent. opposite, Mr. Whitbread, still considered it in the same light), unfavourable to the Duke of York; and, therefore instead of insinuating that it was added to the paper, it would have better become the noble lord to praise the integrity that did not (which might so easily have been done) obliterate it (hear!). I do not mean to say, that there is any great merit in not having done wrong; but when the noble lord throws out an insinuation of something like forgery, it is but fair to show that the fact, which excited his suspicion, is the very fact that proves that it was groundless; and if any deductions are to be drawn from this circumstance, they are entirely to the advantage of col. Gordon, and the complete refutation of the noble lord.

The next case in which col. Gordon is attacked, is that of capt. Maling; and here there is almost a charge of prevarication against him. The noble lord has said, that col. Gordon, when asked about capt. Maling, instead of answering with reference to the capt. Maling who was in his office, and whom he must have known to be meant, answered about another, who was not at all inquired after. This, sir, is another of the noble lord's candid representations; he may forget, but does the house forget, that the reverse of what the noble lord states is the fact. About whom, in truth, was col. Gordon questioned? about whom was the charge itself made? Why, about a Mr. Maling, who was a clerk in Greenwood's office; and who had obtained three commissions in rapid succession, and who finally was a Captain in the Royal African Corps. And with regard to this person, who was actually the subject of enquiry, col. Gordon answered. What was it the noble lord would have had col. Gordon say? He would have had him reply concerning a person, to whom none of the circumstances applied; who never was in Greenwood's office; who had not received three commissions in rapid succession; and who is not, and never was, in the African Corps! This style of answering in col. Gordon would, to be sure, have satisfied the noble lord, who, indeed, is greatly enamoured with the very similar style of Mrs. C. Of course, sir, I am not at all surprised that the noble lord, and those who think Mrs. C.'s evidence incontrovertible, should also think that col. Gordon's is liable to suspicion. I am not surprised that the hon. bart. should agree with the noble lord; but I shall deeply regret, if they can influence any other persons in the house to entertain the same opinion, I am not surprised they should cling to the testimony of Mrs. C., who would discredit at once the humble veracity of Mr. Nichols, and the high-minded honour of col. Gordon. They despise morals in the low, and integrity in the exalted; and will believe only this woman, who had neither integrity nor morals.

But to whose evidence will the house (under all the circumstances of our inquiry), give the preference? In Courts of Law witnesses are sworn, and they speak under the sanction of sacred obligations, and the peril of future, as well as temporal, punishment: before us, witnesses are not on their oath; they are only bound by considerations of reputation and character: of course, then, the higher the rank, the greater is the sanction under which their testimony is given. Whom, then (exclusively of other considerations), should we believe, col. Gordon, who speaks with all the responsibility of his high character (a responsibility not inferior, in honourable minds, to that imposed by legal forms), or Mrs. C., who is neither bound by the sanctity of law, nor restrained by any deference for society? To speak falsely is no new dishonour to her: unsworn as she was, we had no pledge whatsoever for her truth; unless, indeed, one might figuratively describe her as laying her hand on that large volume of revenge and malignity, her heart, and swearing by its unhallowed contents. For my own part, when I consider the merits of this "amiable woman," "this benevolent creature," "this incontrovertible witness," of the noble lord's, I am of opinion that, but for her sex, she would be now expiating her misconduct and prevarication by the side of capt. Sandon, in Newgate.

Sir, I speak strong language, and use no restrained expression, in speaking of this woman; not merely because she has put herself out of the pale of the respect due to the delicacy of her sex, but because I conceive the applause with which she has been encouraged is poison to society, and warrants, nay requires, the administration of the strongest antidote. If the Duke of York is innocent, much as I must lament the libels, the calumnies, and the trials, to which he has been exposed, yet I do not so much lament them, I would not so earnestly have deprecated them, as I do the approbation conferred on Mrs. Clarke. The former is a temporary inconvenience or injury to the individual; the latter saps the foundations of society. The stream of time will wash away the transient stains of false accusation; truth, however clouded, will at last be cleared; and reparation, late perhaps, but ample, awaits the innocent; but to applaud depravity, is to abet it; it is to encourage an evil, whose extent is indefinite, whose progress is uncontroulable. If we place profligacy in a triumphal car, the brains of thousands, that see the procession, will be dazzled and perverted by her success, and crowds of imitators will aspire to share the splendor of victorious vice. Much evil has already been done, and much more is to be expected and feared. The delusion has spread widely through the laud: I hope it has not extended itself far amongst us: I trust that there are many here, who will venture to stem the torrent of prejudice, though it should still increase in height and violence; and who, even at the expence of their popularity, will dare to do their duty by the people,

After this general estimate of the value of the chief evidence gainst h. r. h., it now becomes my duty to observe on the particular heads of charge; and I hope the house will see that I do not do so unnecessarily. I have, I trust, some new, if not facts, at least views, to bring under its observation, which are, in my opinion, of the last importance; and which I should hope would influence, in no slight degree, our decision.

I shall not allude to the Case of Knight and Brooke, not only because it has been already so amply and satisfactorily discussed, but because it is confessed, by the hon. gent. who spoke last, to be fairly explained. With such an admission from a person of the hon. gent.'s sentiments, it would be an idle waste of the public time and patience to dwell upon it. Nor shall I, for similar reasons, go into the charge of capt. Maling, which has been so fully refuted; nor the subsequent case attempted to be super-induced upon it. The failure was so complete, that all that is necessary to say upon this subject, is to desire the house to observe the anxiety with which causes of accusation must have been sought after; and the very slight, and often false, grounds, on which the gravest imputations have been made.

With regard, also, to the circumstances relating to Kennett and Elderton, I do not think it necessary to trouble the house. They do not at all relate to the present inquiry; they have no connexion with the Duke as Commander in Chief; they rest on the mere allegation of an exercise of his influence in his private character, and they certainly, if this was a time or place for the discussion, are as clearly justifiable, as any interference of any other Peer or Commoner in favour of his private connexions.

Neither, sir, is this the time for alluding to the so-much-talked-of Case of Dr. O'Meara. The D. of Y.'s share in the Doctor's acquaintance, and the extent of his wishes in the Doctor's favour, have been exceedingly misunderstood, or most grossly misrepresented. There are, on the table of the house, letters of O'Meara and others, that account, in the most satisfactory manner, for the D. of Y.'s knowing any thing of this man; but as those letters are not printed, and as the Doctor's having visited the Duke, and preached before the King, have no visible relation to the matter of this debate; I shall abstain from that ex- planation of it, which I pledge myself would clear the Duke of York of all shadow of blame on this subject. From the same motives which induce me to decline entering into the defence, I think it would have been candid in other gentlemen to have omitted the charge. I trust, however, that those who follow me will feel the justice of throwing this matter wholly out of present consideration.

But, sir, with regard to Samuel Carter, I think it necessary to say something. Though gentlemen on all sides have admitted it to be, as it stands, a case of merit rather than of offence; yet, as it seems universally argued upon, as if Mrs. Clarke's representation of Carter's having been a footboy were true; as some praise has been given to this woman for her part in this affair; as I think I can show the first to be false, and the other totally undeserved; as I think this case to be one of the most subversive of Mrs. Clarke's claim to credit; and as I deeply feel it to be one of the greatest cruelty to two injured individuals; I cannot refrain from making some more detailed observations on it.

I own, sir, that I do entirely differ from those who approve of Mrs. Clarke's conduct with regard to Carter. If there is one case that more strongly than another impresses on my mind a conviction of her worthlessness, it is this; it combines every trait that ought to induce us to abhor her disposition, and to discredit her testimony. In it she again attempted the masquerade of reluctance: she would be thought the friend and protectress of Carter; and she had charged the hon. gent. opposite (col. Wardle) with a breach of faith in having introduced his name. If the hon. gent. has broken a promise even to Mrs. Clarke, and he has done so for the purpose of fixing public ignominy on a deserving young officer, undoubtedly his conduct is deeply culpable; but Mrs. Clarke, whom I will not credit against the Duke of York, I will not credit against the hon. gent.; and I think his defence against this foul charge stands precisely on the same foundation that h. r. h.'s does against the others; namely, the inconsistencies and manifest misrepresentations in the evidence of this woman, the accuser of both. Who but she could have represented Carter to the hon. member as a footboy? Mark, as a footboy, for that is the gravamen of the charge. With what object could she have done this, except to convince the hon. member, and en- able him to convince us, of the improper extent to which she was permited to carry her influence over the Duke of York? Is it to be believed, that this was without a motive? Sir, I shall show by and by, that this assertion of hers is radically false; and that, so far from wishing to conceal the degrading circumstances, she had herself invented and envenomed them.

This amiable Mrs. Clarke did, however, notwithstanding her great friendship for Carter, confess that he was a footboy, for whom, good-naturedly, she had procured a commission from h. r. h. What! she procured the commission? did she? and for a servant who had often waited behind h. r. h.'s chair in Gloucester-place? So she says; so, if we could administer an oath, I suppose she would swear. Now let us, against this assertion, examine the facts. Capt. Thomas Sutton, of the Royal Artillery, on the 7th Dec. 1801, writes to the Duke, that "the great kindness at all times bestowed on him by h. r. h., emboldens him to solicit an ensigncy for Samuel Carter, an orphan whose father lost his life in the service, and whom he (Sutton) had brought up and educated." On or before the 21st March, 1804, Samuel Carter's commission is signed and officially notified to Captain Sutton, who, on the 29th March, "gratefully acknowledges h. r. h.'s attention to his request in Carter's favour." So much for Carter's owing his commission solely to Mrs. Clarke. Let us now see how far the evidence warrants our supposing him to have been a footboy. Mrs. Clarke says so; but her testimony does not coincide with that even of her servants who had been adduced as witnesses in this case. The evidence of Orramin was not, I allow, directed to this point, but it is on that very account of the greater weight. In his examination on the second day of the inquiry, before Carter's name had been thought of, and before he could have any sinister object in giving his evidence, he had stated Mrs. Clarke's establishment of men-servants at Gloucester-place to have consisted of one butler, one coachman, one footman; and no more. Here, then, was no mention of Carter, though, if he had occupied a menial station in the house, there was every reason why Orramin would have, at that time, included him in his answer. Mrs. Clarke's own servants, I say, contradict her, and involuntarily corroborate this witness. They came indeed to prove that Carter was a servant; but all the circumstances they adduced, contradicted, instead of establishing, that fact. What marks of servitude had he upon him? Did he receive wages? No: Mrs. Favery herself acquits him of that. Did he wear livery? No: the livery-servants themselves admit that he did not. But then the coachman appears (and be it observed, that this man was lately retaken into Mrs. Clarke's service, and is not entirely uncontradicted in other matters); and he said boldly, that Carter was in the habit of going behind the carriage. This, to be sure, was strong; but just as the witness was withdrawing, an hon. gent. thought of inquiring how often Carter had gone behind the carriage; and then this coachman answered "only once or twice." A strange sort of footman this; that receives no wages, wears no livery, and, in the course of twelve months' service, goes behind the carriage once or twice! Is it possible that he was indeed a footman? and is it not, even admitting (what I do not believe) that the coachman speaks truly, an easier solution to say that this boy, then seventeen years of age, might once, in a giddy frolic, have gotten up behind the carriage? This would satisfy the conscience of the coachman, without degrading the character of Mr. Carter.

But, Sir, not to proceed further in this view, I shall, in one word, unravel the tissue of Mrs. C.'s art, and show, by one incontrovertible fact, the falsehood of this charge. Samuel Carter, she says, lived with her as footman, in Gloucester place, for many mouths prior to his getting the commission. All her servants attempted to re-echo the same story. Sir, the house will be astonished to find, that a reference to dates (those unerring tests of truth) absolutely contradicts this allegation. Mrs. C., it seems; went to Gloucester-place on the 18th of March 1804, and Mr. Carter was gazetted an Ensign in the army on the 21st of the same month; and on the 29th, capt. Sutton (his friend and patron) thanks the Duke for his attention to his protegé. This young gentleman, this most injured young gentleman, whom she states to have received his commission after having been for months her menial servant in Gloucester-place, is actually gazetted before she had been four days in that house. This charge, then, is thus totally repelled, not by inductions, not by advocatism, but by facts that no man now will be bold enough to controvert.

See, then, what Mrs. C., in her benevo- lence and veracity, has done, or (happily) rather, attempted to do. To throw one more weight into the scale against the D. of Y., she breaks all ties, disregards all duties; nay, the very favours she has conferred she turns into matter of charge and proof of baseness. Having falsely represented herself as having raised Mr. Carter from the situation of a footboy to that of a gentleman, she now turns round, as it serves her present purpose, to degrade a gentleman to the level of a footboy. She had, as his letters gratefully own, assisted him with money for his outfit; with accidentally classical malice, she had adorned the victim she meaned to sacrifice: she bad given him money, and she fancied, in her mean calculation, that she had purchased a right over his character. Let us consider, too, the actual situation of Carter, when she makes this attempt. Where now is this object of her ruinous kindness? under a burning sun, in a distant and fatal climate, fighting the battles of the country that at this moment rings from side to side with his dishonour! Perhaps she concluded he was dead: the chances of sickness and the sword were in her favour: at all events he was absent; and, to add one trivial offence to the account of the Duke of York, she takes advantage of this absence, and endeavours to reduce this poor young gentleman to a situation, to which eternal absence, nay death itself, would be preferable, in the feelings of an honourable mind.

The peculiar circumstances of this case have warmly interested my feelings; and it is with pride and pleasure that I congratulate, not Mr. Carter alone, nor the Duke of York, but the army, the house, and the country, that infallible evidence has thus equally wiped off every stain from the character of the individual, and the honour of the service.

I now come to the consideration of the Case of Major Tonyn; which has been already so ably disposed of, that I shall only consider it as commented upon, and explained by, another case, which Mrs. Clarke has not thought it advisable herself to bring forward, but which I think a very important one; I mean that of captain Spedding, who, it appears by her correspondence with Sandon, was, together with a captain Bacon, in treaty with her for majorities at the same time with Tonyn. These contemporaneous cases throw great light on each other, and afford reciprocal refutation.

And here, once for all, let me repeat what I before alluded to in Carter's case; the necessity of a strict attention to dates. I beseech the house to observe this remarkable feature of Mrs. Clarke's testimony, that, with all her ability and strength of memory, she scarcely ever could be induced to recollect either time or place; that in every instance she has evaded every thing that could bring her evidence to these standards of truth. She could not remember when she first became acquainted with his royal highness; "she could make no guess as to the time;" her first intimacy with a Prince of the Blood was a matter of too little importance to dwell on her memory. She could not recollect when, or how long, she lived at Tavistock-place; when she removed to Park-lane, or what time she staid there; nay, the circumstances of her taking possession of a magnificent house in Gloucester-place, with such a splendid establishment, under the protection of his royal highness the Duke of York, was an æra of such slight note in the history of her life, that she could not even guess when it had happened. The celebrated wish of the Poet of the Bathos is fulfilled in her favour; and "time and space are both annihilated" for her convenience. All those that followed her, "hand passibus æquis," I allow, her friends, companions, and servants, were all afflicted with the same forgetfulness; they could remember nothing, but some naked circumstances against the Duke of York. Miss Taylor herself, that pattern witness, has a most faithless memory for all things but one; and only recollects what any other person might be expected to forget. But, Sir, all this oblivion, and all this obscurity, have not been entirely successful; a trace of recollection, a ray of light, now and then developes or illumines the dark mazes of their falsehood. Slight circumstances have escaped their wariness; and facts, seemingly unimportant, have Jed us to the discovery of valuable truths. The greater part of Mrs. Clarke's notes to Sandon are without date; but they, in general, afford means of discovering the time that they were written; sometimes by the external post-mark; at others by internal evidence, such as the mention of some events, the period of which is known by reference to the publications of the day. By these, and similar means, the dates of all the most important of these notes are ascertained; and from this I deduce some, on my mind at least, impressive conclusions. In them we find many particulars of her negociations with Tonyn, with Spedding, and Bacon, and with others, which I need not, in this place, enumerate.

These Officers applied to her, as appears in written and verbal evidence, many months before she even attempted to take a step in their behalf; Tonyn, about March 1804; and Spedding and Bacon probably about the May following. And though she states herself, during all that period, to be in the greatest and most constant distress for money, yet she does not even pretend to have effected any thing in their favour, to relieve these distresses. Mr. Bacon, it seems, threw off her trammels early; and she expresses some anxiety at "not hearing any more of him." He had prudently extricated himself from her: but Tonyn and Spedding were held on longer; at last, however, three months' delay appears to have exhausted the patience of Tonyn, who desires to retract his securities, and trust to his father's recommendation in the general promotion which was then expected. Then, indeed, she finds it necessary to begin to appear active; then she desires her agent Sandon to say, "That she has spoken to the Duke, and that the thing is done." One now expects to find it completed. Oh, no! the Duke is so busy, that though he has promised it, and "that the thing is done," to use her own words, it cannot be finally arranged for a month; but then she confidently promises success. In the mean while, general Tonyn, having applied in his son's favour, the expected augmentation of the army takes place; col. Gordon, of his own accord, includes Tonyn's name in the promotion, because he had been placed on the list, in consequence of his father's application, and of his own seniority; and early in August, six months after the commencement of Mrs. Clarke's supposed interference, Tonyn, with upwards of fifty others (of whom twenty were junior to him), was gazetted major. But what, in the mean time, became of poor Spedding? We find her, in all her notes, rather more anxious for him than for Tonyn; and not without good reason; for Spedding was to give her 700l. for the Majority, while Tonyn gave but 500l.: yet Spedding is neglected; his patience or credulity is to be protracted, and various are the arts by which this is accomplished, and many are the excuses which she di- rects Sandon to alledge for the delays; (some of which, observe, such as that of the Duke's stopping all promotion in the 48th regiment, we now know to be false). But, at last, he too gets impatient: then something, of a more marked character, must be done to hold him on; and she writes, that she has spoken to the Duke, who desires Spedding "to write to him for what he wants, as that is best." The Duke, it seems, wished to gratify his mistress by the promotion of Spedding; but was so cautious, that he desires him to send in an official memorial, under colour of which he would do his disgraceful job. Well, Spedding does write in; and of this very memorial, winch he himself had planned and almost dictated; of this very memorial, that was to excuse and cover his corrupt partiality; the Duke, as might be expected, takes an early notice; it meets immediate consideration. But what is that notice, and what is the result of that consideration? Why, a refusal of the request; and nothing was ever done in consequence! Good God! who could think that the Duke was a party to such an absurd proceeding as this? Those who entertain such an opinion, must imagine that his royal highness was fool enough to put himself in Spedding's power, with no other object than to provoke the exercise of that power, by disappointing expectations which he himself raised. I am not now to defend the Duke's morality, I am not here to vindicate his honour; but, if he was guilty, could he be without the feeling that always accompanies guilt? had he lost all wish for concealment, all fear of detection? I will appeal to human nature, I will appeal to the judgment of any observer of mankind, whether it is possible, that the Duke, knowing his mistress's engagements with Spedding, promising to ratify them, and having himself pointed out the course which Spedding was to adopt, should, without motive or measure, defeat his and her prospects, and exasperate Spedding, by what would have been at once injury and insult. It is morally impossible!

What then, in fact, is the cine to all tins confusion? What is the solution of this combination of extraordinary circumstances? It is this; that this artful woman and her associates, by a variety of devices, kept her dupes in suspense and expectation for long periods; and took the chances of their being promoted in the mean while, by their own natural interests or merits.

She tells you she had hundreds and hundreds of applications; and her instances of alleged success are four or five. Like insurers in the lottery, she took her chance of what might turn up in the thousands of names that are annually gazetted; some of her tickets might be drawn. The shortest time that any person appears to have been on her books (except Knight, whose case is admitted to be clearly explained), is six months; and with all this delay, and all these chances, what success had she to shew? In August 1804, the height of her favour and her traffic, a gazette came out, containing upwards of 200 promotions; and, fortunately for her, Tonyn's name was in it; that, to be sure, was a prize of 500l. But, unfortunately for her purse then, and for her credit now, a greater prize, viz. Spedding, lay undrawn at the bottom of the wheel. What! in such an augmentation of the army, in the promotion of 200 officers in one day, Mrs. Ctarke, the favourite, the accomplice, of the Duke of York, pretends even to have made but one! But one! and that, one, whose father, an old general officer, had had a promise for him; one, who gave her only 500l., when she says that many others had promised 700l. for the same promotion; one, in short, of the hundreds that applied to her, and of whose money she declares herself to have been in such pressing want. It must be allowed, that it was a most unlucky day's drawing, and one that ought to have taught those who had insured with her (if such persons were to be taught), that her lottery was, of all lotteries, the most fallacious and delusive. But she had not yet done with Spedding: his name might come up next; and, accordingly, his patience is protracted, by various devices, to the month of November; when finding that this Duke, who had promised so largely, is doing nothing for him, he applies to his Colonel to procure him leave to go on half-pay, by which step Mrs. Clarke would lose all chance of touching a farthing of his money.

Then comes, to be sure, the storm of female rage and disappointed avarice. Read Mrs. Clarke's letters to Sandon; "What can Spedding mean, by asking for leave to go on half-pay? 'Tis odd behaviour; and you must think that SOME ONE thinks me used very ill; of course, till this is fully explained, I shall think of nothing else." Alas, poor Spedding! your hour is come at last. You will now indeed, be taken notice of, but not in the way you were pro- mised. You have cheated the Duke and his mistress. His royal highness bad reckoned on your money, to enable him to support her establishment; you have deceived him; and the all powerful Mrs. Clarke vows her vengeance against you. You are undone; you will not be allowed to disappoint her, by retiring on half pay; you will, perhaps, be ordered on distant service, and not even the payment of the 700l. will now avail you. But, no! this Duke, this unaccountable Duke, when he promised Spedding favour, and expected his money, he refused the very request that he desired him to make; and now that he is enraged at him, and that his mistress "can think of nothing" till she is revenged, he freely grants him his request! So it was. In spite of Mrs. Clarke's rage for the loss of her 700l., Spedding's application was immediately complied with; and, after all his attendance on Mrs. Clarke, and all her assurances, the only favour he appears to have ever received, is one that is directly contrary lo her wishes and her interests.

In speaking thus of captain Spedding, I do not mean to fix on him the guilt of all these practices. My argument is, that Mrs. Clarke had thus stated the case herself; and that, on her own shewing, there was a miserable failure, and a complete disproof of her alleged influence; and if, indeed, captain Spedding was ignorant of this negotiation, it only strengthens the argument against Mrs. Clarke, by proving how wantonly and groundlessly she used the names of Officers, and- how probable it is, that her other charges stand on no better foundations than this.

Who, then, would say that Mrs. Clarke had^ that influence she pretended to? Were I sitting in a Court of Justice, the case of Spedding alone would be enough to enable me to make up my judgment respecting this pretended influence. Here was a failure, where there was every motive for success; and which, therefore, could not> be accounted for, but from the utter want of power on the part of the soi disant omnipotent person. Why, then, are we to charge the Commander in Chief with the promotion of Tonyn, when it is accompanied by the disappointments of Spedding, Bacon, Eustace, Ximenes, and Sandon? How does the case of Tonyn differ, in point of proof, from the handled others, which she confesses to have failed? In this alone; that a Note is produced, which an hon. gent. opposite (Mr. Whitbread) admits, "dovetails in no where," and that it is "altogether mysterious." Are we then, on grounds avowedly inexplicable; on a few mysterious words, that the most ingenious, and not the least violent adversary; of the Duke cannot apply to any part or moment of the case; are we, I say, to build an inference of guilt, contrary not only to all probability, but to the direct result of; so many contemporaneous and similar cases? That Note, sir, it has been fairly owned, cannot be explained with any relation to this transaction. With this admission, I must say, that it is not a lesson of the logic I have learned, to apply that which is inapplicable, and to draw conclusions from that which is allowed to be excluded from our premises. I therefore, sir, hesitate not to say, that those who shall make this Note the foundation of their vote against his royal highness, are bound, (not to follow their own fancies and suspicions, but) in justice, and in sound reason, to shew us how it is relevant, and where it is introducible. Those, perhaps, who follow me, may attempt to do so; those" who have preceded me, and whose talents are not likely to be exceeded by their successors, have given it up as hopeless, and have rested their suffrages on what they think surer foundations.

Not less confidently than capt. Tonyn, is major Taylor mentioned in Mrs. C.'s letters. With him too she was, it seems, in treaty; and to him she had made as bold and confident use of his royal highness's name, as in the cases of Tonyn and French, and we shall find as unwarrantably. This officer was nominated to his promotion by lord Mathew, whose right it was, as Colonel of a new levy, to do so; and of whose honourable motive in doing it no man could doubt, who knew the noble lord's character; and, therefore, on the score of his actual promotion, there was no room for suspicion. But in the negotiation which preceded this promotion, we have, according to Mrs. Clarke's own account, a pregnant instance of her pretence and assumption. Mrs. Clarke s Letter says, "That the Duke would not consent to let Taylor get on by the Irish levies, but would permit him to do so by purchase." Now unfortunately for Mrs. Clarke, the reverse was the fact; and it shews how loose and uncertain her information was, even when she-spoke most confidently. The Duke did refuse to let Taylor get in by purchase, and did consent to his doing so in the Trish levy. I will not dwell further on this case but request the house, to consider its facts; and I am convinced none offer a more certain disproof of Mrs. Clarke's influence over, or even knowledge of, his royal highness's measures.

With regard to French's levy, I shall not detain the house. The arguments of my right. hon. friend (Mr. Perceval), and of the. hon. gent. opposite (Mr. Adam), have saved me the necessity of enlarging on this topic. I have only to recal to your recollection my former observation, that Mrs. Clarke asserted that she began the sale of her influence, on his royal highness's suggestion, not till six months after her removal to Gloucester-place; and that, from all the dates, it appears that col. French had been in treaty with her prior to that time, and actually paid her for her pretended influence before she was six weeks in her new residence. And, with regard to the evidence of Miss Taylor on this point, it is, even if true, no proof of the connivance of the Duke of York. The Duke tells Mrs. Clarke, that French teases and worries him; and asks her, "How he behaves to her V This, in common sense, would be interpreted, Does he also tease you? And Mrs. Clarke's answer is clearly in that sense: "only middling." "Well then," said the Duke, "let French look to himself, or I shall cut up both him and his levy." Now is not this totally inconsistent with a corrupt interpretation? How could Mrs. Clarke say that French treated her but middlingly, in a pecuniary sense, who had actually given her 1,400l.? And why should she wish to injure, in the Duke's opinion, those from whom, as appears by her letters, she was drawing daily supplies? And then, on what grounds could it be of service to her or the Duke to ruin and exasperate French and Sandon, by cutting up their levy? This, I own, I cannot imagine; it is inexplicable. Give it, however, an innocent interpretation. Suppose the Duke to complain of French's importunities and delays, and on that account to threaten, what he afterwards performed, to discontinue the levy, all is clear, all rational, all intelligible: and this opinion, so natural in itself, is strongly fortified by Mrs. Clarke's admonition to Sandon, in one of her letters, to be diligent with the levy, as the Duke was dissatisfied with his delay.

This explanation admits, I am ready to confess, that the Duke conversed with Mrs. Clarke on public subjects. More of this hereafter. Here I shall only say, that he who labours in the routine of office from ten every morning till six or seven in the evening, and who retires with all the anxieties of business upon his mind, may be forgiven if he sometimes speak to his nearest confidant on the subject that entirely engrosses him, and his tongue utter some of the scattered thoughts that occupy his mind.

But with regard to this celebrated conversation, almost every thing depends on the accuracy with which the very words are repeated: the change of one expression would change the whole meaning. Is, then, Miss Taylor a person in whose accuracy of recollection we have reason implicitly to rely? I think not: and for this reason among others; that, except this single conversation, she recollected no one thing that has ever happened to herself, her family, or even the Duke of York; because we have only her own evidence that she ever was in company with the Duke; and that we have that of Mrs. Clarke's own butler and witness (Pierson), that Miss Taylor was often at Gloucester-place, but never admitted into his royal highness's presence. He (the butler, observe) is sure she never dined in his company: and this conversation is represented as having taken place after dinner. And further; Miss Taylor has been, of late, in the receipt of Mrs. Clarke's bounty; and, above all, she owns that Mrs. Clarke came to her, and reminded her of this conversation; and when Mrs. Clarke mentioned if, She then only recalled it to her recollection. On such recollections, of such a witness, of such doubtful meaning, I cannot convict the Duke of York of an improbable crime; and I am the less disposed to do so, because we find the framer of this charge, the reviver of these recollections, the patroness of this witness, has been already convicted of barefaced falsehood and deep enmity to his royal highness!

But there is an observation which I think is applicable here, and which has not been made before, which seems to me to be of considerable weight. At the very time that this levy was going on, and this impure influence exerted, Mrs. Clarke had a brother in the army; a person for whom she was of course nearly interested, in whose behalf she attended the court-martial so often alluded to, and the same who; it seems, had lately escorted her to this house. This person, I say, was then in the army; and how is it to be accounted for, but by the want of influence, that she never was able to advance him a single step in his profession? Was it to be supposed, that, while she was procuring a regiment for one, a majority for another, and a levy for a third, that she never would have applied to his royal highness in favour of her brother? or that his royal highness, if he had been in the habit of granting her such favours, would not very naturally have been disposed to serve the brother of his mistress? But she had not only not obtained promotion for him, but it appeared that she could not venture to ask the most innocent favour for him; and that, when he had occasion for only a fortnight's leave of absence, Mrs. Clarke did not dare to apply to the Commander in Chief, which was the most natural way, if she had been in the habit of interfering in such matters, but had recourse to Sandon, and represented the necessity of his speaking to some friend in behalf of her brother. She does not even desire him to apply to the Horse-Guards, where she might have seconded the application, as she pretends to have done in other cases; but she entreats Sandon to speak to some one in the Adjutant-General's Office, for the purpose of procuring this favour.

This circuitous course must prove, either that she had no influence with his royal highness in these matters, having been obliged to apply to strangers; or that the Duke must be of a most extraordinary and unaccountable temper, in refusing to oblige his mistress in an innocent matter, in which she was so much concerned, though he listened to her infamous recommendations in behalf of those for whom she had a weaker interest. It will, perhaps, be said, she only interfered with the Duke when money was to be had; but, even in this view, the promotion of capt. Thompson was most important to her. It appeared that they had been accustomed to draw bills on one another, so that, even as a pecuniary transaction, she must have been interested in his advantage; and, to go still further, we have only to recollect that Mrs. Clarke bid directed Sandon to look about, and see where "her brother could purchase a company;" and, again, that she solicits Sandon's interest for him, in order to assist his getting early rank; without, in either case, attempting to make any application to his royal highness. To what cause, then, are we to attribute her not having applied to the Duke, if not to a knowledge that he discouraged all such interference; or to a conviction that her application would not succeed? While we see her, therefore, imposing upon others, and taking their money, under the pretext of using her influence with his royal highness, she adopts a quite different course with respect to her brother, and applies to a friend to look out where he might purchase; though, at the very time, both he and she were involved together, and much distressed in their pecuniary circumstances. Let these considerations be combined with those which have preceded them; and I think I am warranted in saying that, after so long and intimate a connection, with all her art and assiduity, it is only surprising that she has not some surer instances of her power to exhibit; and that the Duke of York has had extreme good fortune to be able to repel charges, which, from their very essence, seemed at first incapable of testimonial refutation.

To the case of col. Tucker, one of those which incidentally started up before us, I feel myself obliged, by every feeling of my mind, to advert. The name of this gallant officer, Mrs. Clarke had most wantonly introduced: all she could say of him was, "That he was one, of a long list of names, given in to her by some of her associates; and that she recollected that she had, in consequence, gotten him provided for by the Commander in Chief." But why did she recollect the name of col. Tucker alone, out of this long list? Why did she select him, from so many, as the object of her accusation? What pre-eminence had he over others, to recommend him to her malice? Her reason was natural, her motive obvious and characteristic; colonel Tucker was dead! (Hear! hear!) After the most meritorious and honourable service in Spain, he was returning home; but, in the very sight of his native land, was shipwrecked, and unfortunately perished. The waves that swallowed him had not given up his body to the funeral honours that await him, when this woman took advantage of his fate, to tarnish his honour and degrade his memory. But colonel Tucker might, in his last moments, have exclaimed, "non omnis moriar." He died! but honourable character and fraternal piety survived him: his brother has nobly thrown himself between calumny and the memory of the departed; and the feelings that prompted, and the success that has attended, this appeal, are equally worthy of the dead and of the living; of him, to whom this posthumous duty was dedicated; of him, by whom it was paid; and of this house, who had received it with such spirited and generous sympathy (Hear! hear!). This was a case, too, not unworthy of Mrs. Clarke; it was one that she must have selected with pleasure! to trample on the grave of a soldier, and to brand a gallant gentleman with dishonour, when death had stifled the voice that could have contradicted her! And was this the witness, of whom we had heard so many panegyrics—(hear! hear!); whose veracity and virtue, it had been said, made the weaknesses of her conduct excusable; and whose humanity had been represented as extenuating her frailty, and almost dignifying her fall?

I now proceed to the Case of col. Shaw, the last upon which I shall have occasion to make any observation.

Mrs. Clarke, on this subject, says, that the Duke gave col. Shaw the appointment of Barrack-master at the Cape of Good Hope, in consideration of a promise of Shaw's to give her 1,000l.; that Shaw broke this promise, and gave her but 500l.; and that, when she found she was to get no more than this, she complained to the Commander in Chief, who said "that Shaw was a bad fellow to deal with;" and, in consequence, reduced him from full to half pay, as a punishment for the breach of his engagement. Now, sir, this case, thus stated, has been called, and very truly, one of peculiar aggravation. Every honourable gentleman, who has spoken on the opposite side, has indulged his generous feelings, by declaiming against his royal highness for first selling this office, and afterwards depriving the purchaser of its advantages from the meanest motives that could possibly actuate human conduct; the participating in the corrupt and avaricious resentment of his mistress.

To support this flagrant case, we have rather better proof than in most of the others: first, we have the "incontrovertible Mrs. Clarke;" next, the fact of the appointment having taken place; then, the payment of 500l., and no more; afterwards, the fact of Shaw's being reduced to half-pay; and, finally, his own letters, lamenting this, and offering her more money for further favours. Why, sir, this case does really, in point of strength of proof, put all the others to the blush; and yet, sir, I pledge myself to satisfy the house that it is altogether an instance of the most infamous and unfounded falsehood that ever came under our notice (Hear! hear!). Yes, sir, I repeat it, I shall satisfy, not only the majority, but every individual; and I therefore more particularly request the attention of the house, to a charge the most confident, and to a refutation the most complete.

Let us first observe, that Mrs. Clarke had been engaged with col. Shaw for nearly two years, during the whole of which time she accomplished nothing in his favour. Nay, she seems to have been so destitute of influence, that when Shaw wanted leave of absence, in order to prosecute the negotiation, she was unable to procure it; and he was obliged to have recourse for this purpose to a general officer, his private friend. At last, wearied with his ineffectual solicitations, his agent, Mrs. Hovendon, withdrew his papers from Mrs. Clarke, and ceased, all intercourse with her. After this, gen. sir Harry Burrard, who, it seems, was much interested for col. Shaw, by personal solicitation procured for him the appointment of Barrack-roaster at the Cape. And when he writes to announce to the Commander in Chief Shaw's acceptance of the place, he states, that "he (Shaw) is too happy to take it, and is quite satisfied to go on half-pay immediately:" so that it appears that Shaw did not buy the place from Mrs. Clarke, because he owes it exclusively to the indefatigable friendship of sir Harry Burrard; and that he was not placed on the half-pay by way of punishment afterwards, because, before he got the office, it was arranged and agreed that he must go on half-pay. Aud, besides, we find, from the documents on the table, that all persons holding similar places abroad, are, with very few exceptions, in similar circumstances; aud that every oilier staff-officer at the Cape of Good Hope was in exactly the same situation as col. Shaw.

As to Shaw's letter, which Mrs. Clarke, produced as part of her proof, it proves, indeed, that he wrote to her, complained of an injury done, and offered her money for a favour to be conferred. But every one who reads this letter will see, that it does not prove, but indeed disproves, Mrs. Clarke's details on the subject. In the first place, it does not admit, in the least, that he owes his place to Mrs. Clarke: in the next, he does not speak like a person who is suffering the punishment of his breach of promise. He complains, indeed, but it is, that Mrs. Clarke has broken her promise to him. He acknowledges no offence towards her; but he accuses her of one to him. He does not admit that he paid too little; but he says that he paid her too much, for that she had done nothing for it. No part of the letter is applicable to the subject of his original appointment; and does not at a!), when duly considered, convey any such meaning. What meaning does it then convey? Plainly this: that Shaw, having gotten his office from sir H. Burrard, on the condition of going on half-pay, had heard of Mrs. Clarke's influence, and conceived the idea of obtaining, through her means, to go again on full pay. This, it seems by the letter, she persuaded him WAS DONE; and he paid her as if it was; but finding, as he was sailing, that the tiling was not not finally accomplished, he wrote to complain of the delay; though, at the same time, it appears, he still had some reliance on her representations. This construction of the letter is supported by Mr. Charles Shaw's testimony, who paid Mrs. Clarke the 200l., and indeed by all the other evidence: and no possible construction can reconcile its expressions with the story of Mrs. Clarke.

Thus, sir, is this Case answered by the most certain facts, and the fairest inferences. But I know, that all these inferences will be denied, and these facts will be overlooked; and we shall be told, that all our legal quibbling can no more clear the Duke of this charge, than it has of the others (Hear! hear!). I perceive, sir, I am right in this conjecture. Well, then, I will now proceed to state, what I kept for the last, the irrefragable proof of my assertion, that I should prove this to be a case of the most infamous and unfounded falsehood. I at first treated it as we had done other charges, in order to show, in the event, that our system of examination and deduction was right; and to obtain credit in those other cases for our mode of argument, by the corroboration which it will receive in this, from incontrovertible facts.

It appears, sir, from Mrs. Clarke's evidence, that having got 200l. from Coutts's bank on col. Shaw's account, and being dissatisfied with this payment, she complained to his royal highness of Shaw's conduct, in sending so small a sum; and that his answer was, "I told you, all along, that you had a bad sort of man to deal with, and ought to have been more careful; but I will immediately put him on half pay." Let us now, sir, consider the dates of 3his affair, which, fortunately, we have been able to collect. It appears, from Coutts's banking-books, tbat the 200l. was issued by them on the 9th of May, 1806; and it was paid over to Mrs. Clarke on the same day. With this payment she was dissatisfied; and it must, therefore, have' been after the 9th of May, 1806, that the Duke promised to punish Shaw, by removing him to the half-pay. Now, sir, observe, aud I beg of the house to honour me with its attention; we have the official documents of placing col. Shaw on the half-pay, dated 8th of May, 1806, the day before this alledged offence was, at the very soonest, committed (Hear! Hear!). See, also, how all the other dates give this "incontrovertible" witness the lie. On the 29th of March, 1806, sir H. Burrard says, "Shaw gratefully accepts the place. I explained, that he was to set out in three weeks; and also, that, if it could be obtained, he should be put on half-pay as soon as it could be done." That is to say, by accepting the staff appointment he lost his regimental pay; but, as soon as it could be obtained, he should, as a favour, get the half-pay, in addition to the staff pay. Thus, that was a favour promised, and gratefully accepted by him, on the 29th of March, and conferred officially on the 8th of May, which Mrs. Clarke says was a subsequent punishment inflicted on him for his conduct on the 9th. (Hear! hear!). I am glad to find that the house think I have already redeemed my pledge; but I have some still more conclusive facts to state; and this refutation, though so unanswerable, is not the only one. Mrs. Clarke says, she, in consequence of her disappointment on the 9th of May, complained to the Duke of York; but the house, ill as they must by this time think of her testimony, prepared as they must be for her complete detection, will be astonished to hear, that, after this alleged disappointment, she never saw his royal highness! The separation between them had taken place on or prior to the 8th of May. Mr. Adam says, that on the 6th, 7th, or, at latest, the 8th, he had laid the result of the inquiries into Mrs. Clarke's conduct before the Duke; who then came to a final determination to part with her for ever. Accordingly, as appears in another part of the evidence, he went down to Oatlands, and never saw her afterwards! This was no inferential evidence, no argumentative deduction. These are plain facts, and certain dates. This was a de- fence of the Duke; not by art; not by management; but by demonstration. Wisely had Mrs. Clarke and her followers avoided, with such studied equivocation, to recollect dates; those indelible signs, and eternal monuments, that, when all other means of detection have failed, lead to the discovery of the hidden schemes of accusation, and concerted plans of secret revenge. We may judge, by this example, how the rest of her story would have borne these unerring tests, if we had the means of applying them, Mrs. Clarke's evidence was now, indeed, "incontrovertible," incontrovertibly false! I can only account for the production of this charge by supposing that col. Shaw's letter falling into her hands, having no date of the year, and being of a nature that might be variously interpreted, she had determined to found on it this accusation. We now know that this letter was written a fortnight after the separation from the Duke. But tins consideration is superfluous. The dates, the facts, form such a mass of contradiction to Mrs. Clarke, that I hardly suppose the noble lord himself, certainly no other person, will venture to assert, that she is now deserving of credit.

But from this I do not mean to urge only that this particular case is disproved: I mean to carry it much farther; and to argue, from this flagrant instance of inconsistency and falsehood, that Mrs. Clarke is not to be credited, in any part of her evidence, without circumstances of the most corroborative nature. Having failed hi a case in which she was so confident, and so vehement; in a case, too, of such importance, and affecting so materially the character of the person accused; and having so failed by the detection of her infamous calumny; I insist upon her entire and universal discredit.

In cases of defence, one instance of failure ought not to be conclusive against the Defendant. One may fail, from want of proper attention to the matter; from want of ingenuity in the conduct of the cause; or from a deficiency of the necessary evidence which he could not command; and from such failures, in one particular, we should not be warranted in deciding, that the defence of other points was equally weak; but I contend, that, in matters of accusation, the matter is widely different. Here the accuser has time to arrange and select his cases; and is required to bring none forward that he cannot substantiate. It is to be supposed, in such circumstances, that he will adduce no charge that he cannot make good; or which, at least does not carry the appearance of truth along with it. If, then, the accuser should fail in one of his most important objects; and be detected in an attempt to impose on us, by the most false and unfounded pretences; are we not, I ask, fairly warranted to reject the whole? This was precisely the case with Mrs. Clarke; she had been found to falsify, most grossly, one of the most important charges, perhaps I might say the very most important, a charge which was held out against his royal highness as one of the "most aggravated nature;" and if in this she had failed, what credit are we to give her in others, where circumstances rendered it less easy to get so completely at the truth; Mrs. Clarke must have weighed this case, as well as the others; and must have equally known its truth or falsehood. And when it appears that she, knowing it to be false, had, notwithstanding, brought it forward with as much confidence as the rest, we are certainly entitled to discard the whole, unless supported by evidence entirely independent of hers.

We are here uniting the functions of a judge and a jury; and let us pause to consider, if this case were under trial before the upright and venerable characters that preside in the Courts of Law, what would be their direction to the jury, even before Mrs. Clarke's detection in Shaw's case! They would tell them: "That it was possible that Mrs. Clarke had told a great deal of truth; but that it was certain she had told a great deal of falsehood: that no man could decide how much was false, and how much true; and that, therefore, they should receive her evidence with general distrust." But after this case of Shaw, they would go farther, and say: "Here is a witness deeply interested in the success of the prosecution, and of notorious profligacy of character, with every motive to convict, without any pledge for her truth; charging many enormous crimes, of which she was the accomplice, on a person against whom she feels the deepest resentment; equally confident in all the cases, and in all equally liable to suspicion, but at last, by accidental lights, and unexpected circumstances, not only discovered to have fabricated, in an equal spirit of falsehood and hatred, the most grave and pertinent of all these accusations, but detected at the bar as being the perjured witness of this fictitious crime. Shaken, if not overthrown, as her credit already was, this last case has divested her of every claim on the belief of the most credulous, of every presumption which the most charitable could have entertained in her favour. You will acquit the accused in the case of Shaw; and that acquittal must re fleet itself in all the preceding cases; and you must send the Duke of York back into society, emancipated by your verdict from the disgrace that was planned for him, and restored to the full lustre of his honour and of innocence."

Thus, sir, do I believe a judge would address a jury. Thus, sir, in a most deep and conscientious conviction, do I address this house, and entreat them honourably to acquit his royal highness of the base corruption, and the no less base connivance at corruption, which had been so injuriously charged upon him. For my part, in all sincerity, and in the full contemplation of my responsibility, I shall not hesitate to give my unbiassed verdict of …. NOT GUILTY.

Here, sir, I must with great reluctance confess, that the more pleasing part of my task concludes: I regret that I can no longer use the language of defence, that I am even constrained to adopt that of censure: a more painful feeling cannot well be inflicted: but my public duty obliges me to undergo it; and the sentiment of having done that duty, will alleviate the sorrow that, on every account, I feel at not being able to follow, to his utmost step, the course of my right hon. friend the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

I do not mean, sir, to assume the office of censor, and declaim against the immorality of his royal highness's connexion with Mrs. Clarke. However I may disapprove of it (and both my public and private feelings lead me most strongly to do so), it is not my duty to censure it. The house must lament, but it is not within its province to punish, such irregularities; and I cannot but regret that so much stress has been laid on this moral offence, because it has tended to prejudice the public opinion as to the political charges now under trial. I believe, and am happy to believe, that there is in this country a strong sentiment against all violations of domestic decency and duty: but when I know that, unhappily, these breaches are by no means uncommon, and yet do so often pass unnoticed; when I see that they have drawn upon the Duke of York a violence of reproach which they have not caused in any other cases, I cannot but suspect that something of this flagrant zeal, this righteous indignation, has been assumed for the particular occasion; and that the offender, rather than the offence, has been, in many instances, the object of these pious and angry attacks.

The point in which I think his royal highness culpable, and that upon which I think myself, in fairness, competent to animadvert, is the communication which he permitted Mrs. Clarke to have with him relative to General Wavering. That he did so, is avowed; that he should not have done so, is conceded; and that to this extent he is blameable, must be admitted. I will allow, that perhaps no practical evil occurred, or perhaps it had only happened in one or two instances; but it was wrong in principle and in essence; and I therefore regret, that this (however venial) indiscretion obliges me to refuse my entire assent to the address of my right hon, friend (Mr. Perceval), which I conceive to be one, not only of acquittal, in which I coincide, but of unqualified approbation, in which I do not. (Hear, hear, from the opposition benches). Yes, sir, I acknowledge this transient agreement between me and some of the hon. gentleman opposite; and I do most sincerely regret that this unfortunate circumstance prevents my giving to the Duke of York that triumphant vote which I otherwise would be the first to propose. Had this fact not intervened, the triumph of his royal highness would have been unclouded and complete; but though I feel thus on this subject, yet it is one of by no means such a nature as to prevent our pronouncing a complete and honourable acquittal of all corruption, and of all shades and degrees of corruption.

I shall probably be asked, what measure of censure I would inflict for the indiscretion which I do not deny? Sir, this is not yet the moment in which I ought to answer that; but I will say, that, before I proceed to any censure of his royal highness for a venial error, I will take into my consideration all the merit which he has to plead in mitigation: I will recollect what the army was, and I will observe what it is: I will not forget sixteen years of diligent and useful service: I must recall to my mind all those regulations, so generous in their motive, so admirable in their detail, by which, at the expense of his own patronage, his royal highness has provided for the advancement of the deserving and the support of the destitute, I must feel that he has founded an Asylum for the Soldier's Orphan: I must applaud his assiduous repression of abuse; of the very abuses laid to his charge; and his still more assiduous promotion of merit; of that merit which, diffused through the ranks of the army, is now waiting for its patron's acquittal with grateful anxiety. All these circumstances, and many others of equal force, I will well consider, before I can venture to decide what censure it may be expedient to pass on the indiscretion of one who has such substantial claims to our gratitude and applause.

Having thus far, with the indulgence of the house, and after the example of those who preceded me, considered the question with reference to the Duke of York, I must now be permitted to make some observations on that which happens to be more immediately the object before us; I mean the form of our proceeding; and however gentlemen may differ as to the sentiments we are eventually to express, I own I am surprised to find any doubt as to the manner in which, whatever they may be, we should express them.

The question is not, in this stage, the guilt or innocence of the Duke of York, but it is whether we should, in the first instance, give our opinions on these points, by agreeing in an Address, or by voting distinct Resolutions. For my own part, I am decidedly for the latter; and that, upon every reason of justice and expediency: it is, I think, the most parliamentary course; I am sure it is the most natural, and the least intricate.

I should, in any case, prefer the precision of a resolution to the prolixity of an address; but in this judicial matter, when we are about to decide on interests dearer than life, it becomes us to see that all cur steps are clear, that all our motives are precise, that all our opinions are distinct. To resolve on the evidence, is to give our verdict; to address the king upon it, is to pronounce sentence. Let us, therefore, first decide whether the Duke is guilty, and to what extent; and, if it is necessary, let us then go up to the throne, to demand his dismissal.

Nor can I see why the supporters of an Address should oppose our coming to a resolution: a resolution is the fittest and best foundation for an Address; and so far from precluding it as an ultimate course, it facilitates and prepares it; while, on the other hand, if we decide to have an Address at first, we decide to have no Resolution at all, or, if at all, when it shall be superfluous. To begin by the Address, is a proposition not unlike that of the professor in the Laputan Academy, who had a project for building houses by beginning at the roof, and so descending downwards in the work to the very foundation. Thus, sir, an Address being the last proceeding I which parliament can adopt, and which I should be, as it were, the very apex of our discussions, we are to begin by it; and hen, if we choose, forsooth, we may work downwards, until, finally, we put the foundation of a Resolution under the edifice which we have erected (Hear! hear!). But if the absurdity of this course is no I objection with some gentlemen, surely the inconvenience of it should; and that, at this protracted stage of the discussion, the confusion and length in which the debating an Address, before we had settled what it was to contain, would involve us, ought to deter the strongest and the boldest amongst us from the undertaking. Not the substance alone of every sentence will then be to be examined, but every expression will be liable to attack, defence, and reply: and when all these details are finished, if ever they should be finished, we shall have a new question on the whole tenour and general complexion of this eternal Address. Let met ask what the subject matter of our proceedings is? It is easy to answer, "the Duke of York's case." And that, in terms, is simple enough. But do we not know that the Duke of York's case consists often or a dozen charges, some of a lighter,; some of a graver nature; some alleged to be proved, and some admitted to be disproved; some insisted on by one set of gentlemen as a matter of offence, by others as subjects of praise, and by a third as having no relation at all to the question? Are we ignorant, that, in all these various cases, and their subordinate and component parts, there may be numerous shades of guilt calling for as numerous degrees of censure? Do we not know, that, upon all those shades of guilt and censure, there are as many different shades of opinion as there are members in this house? Good God, sir, where are we to end, and what future day is to witness our determination? But if we propose resolutions of fact, and take the sense of the house distinctly upon each, the difficulty and delay, if not entirely removed, will be at least diminished, and we shall-have some pros- pect of living to see the conclusion of this debate.

In the very situation in which we are placed, I see the proof of what I assert. We are here sitting with three Addresses before us, in which no one but the respective mover has expressed his implicit and entire concurrence. The noble Lord opposite (Folkestone) will vole for the first Address, though it does not satisfy him [Lord Folkestone here shook his head.] I repeat it, sir, in spite of the abnutation of the noble Lord. The noble Lord has declared that he thinks that the Duke of York is guilty of corruption. (Hear!) How, then, can the noble lord be satisfied with an Address that does not allege that fact? I will believe the noble lord's character and consistency against the shaking of his head: and I again repeat it, that he must concur in this Address reluctantly, and that perhaps, if I do not overrate his sense of public duty, we shall hear him offer to us some amendment that may give it the force and effect that be desires.

The Address of my right hon. friend I cannot entirely agree to: there are parts of it to me objectionable, though there are others that I entirely approve: therefore, sir, while I support his Resolutions and such parts of his Address (if an address be finally necessary) as shall coincide with what we shall have resolved, I am, in consistency, obliged to dissent from those parts that do not: and thus, we see, that two of the three Addresses are already open to infinite discussion even among their own supporters.

The third, moved by the hon. gent. on the floor (Mr. Bankes), has still less to recommend it than either of the former; and is, indeed, a pregnant instance of the absurdity of proceeding by Address at all. It differs but in shades, we are told, from the first: why, then, was it moved? These two Addresses almost agree; why, then, shall we have their movers voting against one another? "If the Doctors disagree, who shall decide?"(A laugh.) I must say, that the motive of the hon. gent, in moving this Address, which is recommended as being so similar to the former, is to me inexplicable; unless, indeed, that hon. gent, is of a disposition to be satisfied only with his own productions; or that be has artfully modelled his proposition to catch a few stray votes (Hear! hear!); to catch them, not by its merit, but by its obscurity; not that his Address was that which any man would prefer, but that, in the mist and darkness with which it has overshadowed the debate, a few members, not seeing which way they are going, may follow the hon. gent. Address is the name which the hon. gent, has given to his measure; and its nature, I fear, is address. But I hope the house will refuse to vote in the dark: and that this tour d'addresse will meet the success and reception which it deserves.

Sir, I dislike these two Addresses, because, assuming the guilt of his Royal Highness, they confound all sorts and degrees of it. Were I, however, obliged to vote for either of them, I should certainly prefer that of the hon. gent. (col. Wardle): there is a manliness in it which recommends it, in my opinion, to our notice; "We will go to the King," was its language, "and what we dare to think, we will dare to say!" But that of the other hon. gent. (Mr. Bankes), seems equally afraid of pronouncing the Duke of York innocent or guilty. It was a poor and timid compromise, which, Willing to wound, and yet afraid to strike, Just hints a fault, and hesitates dislike. (Hear! hear!). For my part, I will not make any compromise of my feelings on this occasion. I wish the house to meet the question boldly, and decide, whatever the result might be, as truth requires. If the house thinks his Royal Highness guilty, they must say so. I do not wish them to conceal their sentiments; but, on the contrary, to declare them. If, however, they think, with me, that his royal highness is innocent; why be afraid to do him justice? Why address his Majesty for the purpose of removing him from office? It would be very strange, indeed, if, after weeks of sedulous inquiry, the only determinations we can come to are, doubt and uncertainty with respect to the existence of guilt or not, and, therefore, an Address to his Majesty to dismiss his Royal Highness, if he pleases. The King certainly may dismiss him if he pleases; but he does not need the House of Commons to approach the Throne for the purpose of telling him this truism. Has the mountain been so long in labour only to produce this ridiculous mouse?

I contend, therefore, that, instead of this dubious declaration and half-measure, the house should endeavour, first, to come to a positive decision with respect to the disputed points; and not bewilder itself with so various a choice, and such conflicting opinions. An Address, from its very form, must include many things on which great differences might prevail: but Resolutions, by their nature, not only admitted, but secured, perspicuity and precision. If our Resolutions should convict his Royal Highness, then an Address for his removal will be framed without difficulty, because the offence would be on record, and the consequent course will be defined as well in form as in substance. Should a majority of this house find him guilty, I can then have no objection to vote for an Address to his Majesty, to dismiss him from the Public service; but I cannot, in conscience, vote for this punishment till judgment has been given respecting his criminality. I cannot vote for such an Address, and at the same time allow him to be innocent. And if he is guilty, either of the Addresses is too feeble to convey to the Throne the sense of the house. The hon. mover (col. Wardle), if he thought the facts of guilt established against the Duke, had a fair ground for moving an Address for his dismissal; and if guilt was recorded in a Resolution of the house, I should not merely vote for such an Address, I would go still further; but in no case whatsoever could I concur with the other hon. gent., whose proposition is so comprehensively erroneous, that it can fit no case, and yet is to be applied to all. The hon. gent. should have selected his road, before he chose the sort of carriage he would employ; and not have acted as absurdly as one who, having a mind to go to Greenwich by water, should throw himself into a post-chaise, or should set out for Dorsetshire in a wherry on the Thames. (A laugh.) This, really, sir, has been the honourable gentleman's course. He had irrevocably selected his vehicle, before he knew which way he was about to travel. His Address was meant to meet not only alternative, but even contradictory cases. If the Duke of York be guilty of the basest Corruption, what proceeding shall we take? "My Address." But if he be guilty only of the minor offence of "Negligence, what then? "Why, my Address." Well! but if he be not guilty of either, and be entirely acquitted, what course have you then? "Why, truly, still, my Address!" It was like the Spanish Doctor's universal remedy: He is consumptive—bleed him! He is plethoric— bleed him! He is palsied, rheumatic, or aguish,—Still bleed him! bleed him! Sir, I repeat it, if I were forced, by the decision of the house, to do violence to my own sentiments, I would rather boldly err with the accuser, than involve myself in the timid and intricate fallacies of the hon. gent. on the floor. And if any remain who still are resolved to abide by this strange course, I would ask them, what they, in their own consciences, would think of a judge, who, while the jury were deliberating on their verdict, should be making up his mind on the sentence; resolved to pronounce it equally, whether the verdict should be murder, or manslaughter, or not guilty.

One other consideration remains. An Appeal has been made to the Country; and the hon. bart. opposite had dwelt on this topic with great violence, but, I think, with less consistency than if he bad supported the proceeding by Resolution. Sir, I can have no objection to this Appeal. I trust that I am above the necessity of disclaiming all partial motives. I will go, sir, to my Country as boldly as the hon. baronet; and though not drawn in triumph by such numbers, I trust I shall receive as pure and entire a confidence from constituents as jealous of their rights. The hon. bart. has proposed, that no official person should vote on this subject. (Hear! hear! from Mr. Herbert of Kerry). Why, sir, it seems the hon. gent, is of the same opinion! (Mr. Herbert expressed his assent). I own, sir, I do envy the hon. gent, his simplicity of heart. I was just going to observe, that the hon. bart. had only thrown this out as a topic of argument ad captum vulgi, and not as a serious proposition; but, I find, that he has to answer for having abused the honest credulity of the hon. gent., who, it seems, seriously and solemnly, and in deep earnest, is gravely of opinion, that every man who holds an office, or, I suppose, ever expects to hold one, should take his hat and walk away from the decision of this question. I will, however, venture to assure the hon. gent., that this proposition of the hon. bart.'s was purely ironical; and to advise him to be in future a little more suspicious of that grave waggery, which is mischievously calculated for leading pure and confiding simplicity into ridiculous mistakes. There is, sir, I suppose, no man in this country, except the hon. gent., who does seriously think, that, on a public question, public men ought not to vote; that those whose talents have raised them into office, and those who look, with a laudable ambition, to similar stations; that all who are, or ever hope to be, servants of their country, should, at this time, on this occasion, abandon their duty, and skulk from the expression of the sentiments which the nation anxiously expects from them! I do not much regard, sir, the imputation of improper motives attempted to be thrown on public men. The gentlemen on both sides of this house do, I trust, equally despise such insinuations; and the Country, I hope, will feel, that, if the ambition of official distinction; if the love of honest fame, and merited rank, acquired in the public service, be once extinguished, the national spirit will decay, and patriotism will become palsied by inaction. Whenever the name of states-man becomes dishonourable, or even suspected, the liberties and glories of England will vanish: honesty will not enter a degraded profession: genius will not be found where it is no longer honoured; and men destitute of talents, and patient of degradation, will tremble at the helm when the empire is sinking.

But, sir, we are not, therefore, to disregard the opinions of the people. I admit we are not. I do not deprecate the Appeal made to our constituents; I challenge it: but, if it is to be made, at least let the Country know on what grounds we are to vote. I admit that the eyes of England are directed to us; and, therefore, I desire that they should be able to distinguish what we do. I wish to dispel the obscurity of these Addresses: and, like Ajax, I say, "whatever be our fate, restore us, at least, to light; and let us fall or conquer in the face of day."

I know that our constituents will have a right hereafter to question us on the transactions of this night. It is not unparliamentary lo say, that, when we next appear before them, we shall owe them ample explanation of all our conduct; and for this reason, among the rest, I support the proceeding by Resolution. For how can the country know w hat our sentiments are, if we do not come to a positive vote on distinct facts? Now, if the hon. gent. should persist in pressing his ambiguous Address, which gives such opportunities of evasion, and which must necessarily be productive of so much mistake, every one, when we come to account to our constituents, may give it his own convenient interpretation. "I voted for it," says one, "because the Duke was guilty;" "and I," says another, "because he was innocent;" "and I," replied a third, "because he was neither guilty nor innocent!" Let us pursue the natural course of the human mind, and of human operations. Let us first decide on facts, and then argue on the consequences. We may address, or not, as hereafter shall seem necessary; but, first, let us decide the preliminary, and most important matter. Firstly: Is the Duke guilty of Corruption, or, what is the same, Connivance? Secondly: Has he suffered, even without a criminal motive, the influence of this woman over his public duty? And, thirdly: Ought he to be deprived of the Command of the Army? In each of these Resolutions I desire to give a distinct vote; and I think the Country will expect, from every gentleman, a similar course. Let us convict his royal highness, or acquit him of these things; let us dismiss him from, or retain him in, the Command of the Army. But, let us do either boldly; and, whatever we intend, I implore the house, in justice to the Duke, in justice to the country, and in justice to ourselves, to do it in the face of day; and not to huddle up the question hi the endless intricacies of these ambiguous and obscure Addresses. (Hear! hear!)

Sir F. Burdett,

in explanation, and in answer to the hon. member's question, said, he should always feel himself quite disposed to gratify even the curiosity of any member, however disorderly it might be to put such questions as that now put to him. The mode of putting that question to him inferred almost a refusal to reply, as if he (Sir Francis Burdett) had actually retired with some of the public money in his pocket, or been concerned in giving money to conceal a great public grievance, of the nature comprised in the charges now before them. He did not, however, feel disposed to reply with any acrimony to such insinuations, but certainly, only with a view to satisfy the hon. gent., and he had therefore to state, that no such circumstance as his offering money to Mrs. Clarke did ever take place.

Mr. Henry Martin,

was of opinion, that if the truth were to be sacrificed to the pleasantries and witty sallies of the hon. member (Mr. Croker), there would be little left whereon to build a free, impartial, and serious discussion. The hon. gent. had stated, in fact, a number of abstract positions, which never bad been, and never could be recognized by that house. He trusted the house would feel what the country had long and forcibly felt the importance of the investigation in which it had for a considerable time been so peculiarly and painfully engaged. He was surprised to hear a right hon. and learned gent. opposite (the Solicitor General) object to the present proceedings, upon the ground that the House of Commons had no right to be sitting upon the trial of a person in the Duke of York's situation. Did that learned gent, not know that the House of Commons stood in an anomalous situation in such cases as the present? They did not, as in other tribunals, act by any particular rules as to evidence; every man that was accused by them stood before them for trial, and might if he chose come and state his defence. They had all the powers that could be comprised in a public functionary, for what would be their use if they were to feel themselves fettered in their censure as a Grand Jury? If they could not thus pass sentence of condemnation on persons holding high and responsible public situations, he should be glad to know upon what principle they could act? Upon what ground could the king more properly or constitutionally dismiss such individuals from the public service, than upon evidence adduced before the house of Commons? This was not a novel case, for there had occurred repeatedly precedents to justify their present conduct. He might refer the hon, and learned gent, to times soon after the Revolution, times that were better adapted than the present for ascertaining the just rights and privileges of the Constitution. He alluded to the proceedings of that house upon the Partition Treaty; when they investigated documents and examined witnesses, not upon oath, and what conclusion did they come to? They addressed his Majesty to remove from his councils for ever lord Somers and the two other noble lords mentioned in that Address. On what grounds did they proceed in voting that Address, and did they stop there? No; they thought that the crimes of the noble individuals, against whom they addressed, went further than they could punish, and they therefore voted an impeachment. This was not done till after they had passed a sentence of condemnation, the most severe that they could pass; and yet the hon. and learned gent, had said, "why did the house proceed to condemn without evidence? and why not send the Duke of York immediately to trial? for it would be better to stab the Royal Duke to the heart at once, than to advise his Majesty according to the tenor of the Address, to dismiss him from his councils fee ever." Were not lord Somers, and the others, possessed of feelings as well as the Duke of York? If so, were they not equally and sufficiently warranted in this instance in advising his Majesty to dismiss him from the head of the Army? Had the house in doing this, refused to hear the illustrious personage whose case was brought before them? The opportunity of being heard in his defence was still open to his Royal Highness, and unquestionably that house was not to be restricted in the exercise of its powers, and the performance of its duties, if his Royal Highness did not think proper to avail himself of this opportunity. It was only a vulgar impression and prejudiced education that could as-simulate the rules by which Parliament was to be regulated, to those of other Courts of Law with respect to evidence; for he knew no fixed rules by which Parliament was to be regulated. They had heard a great deal of the rights and privileges of the Duke of York; but was it therefore to be imagined that because that royal personage enjoyed privileges, there were none also enjoyed by the House of Commons? or that they could not by virtue of the Constitution deprive him of them, if his conduct should have been such as to merit so severe an infliction? But there was another observation of the hon. and learned gent, which he trusted would not soon be forgotten by that house. That hon. and learned gent, had, on the part of his Royal Highness, claimed for him the same measure of impartial justice which was extended by the laws and constitution equally to the peasant and the peer. That justice he (Mr. Martin) never would refuse, and it was upon that feeling that he called upon that house to support the original Address, as consistent with the usage of Parliament, an usage which should be equally acted upon, as well towards one peer as another, without any distinction of elevated situation or exalted rank. He had heard some comments upon the particular connection of the accused with the Throne, but the objections proposed upon that point had but little strength, in his opinion. He was one of those old-fashioned persons who continued to labour under that inveterate prejudice of former times; that in the trial for alleged misconduct, there ought to be no distinction between the meanest subject in the country and the most elevated individual, unless that arose from the quality and extent of the imputed offence. He should argue that it was not only a right, but it was the bounden duty of the House of Commons to prosecute every inquiry of this sort, in the way they had found their forefathers act; and that they were not to sacrifice their rights, from the consideration of the high rank and station of the illustrious person accused. It might be said and had been triumphantly asked, with the precedent of lord Somers before them, why not impeach the Duke of York? To that he should answer, that where they had a punishment commensurate to the offence, the most proper way of proceeding was to inflict that punishment. Why did they in any case impeach? It was because the offence was one which they could not otherwise adequately punish. If there were no other mode of inflicting that punishment which appeared adequate to the offence, then they must at once have recourse to impeachment. The crown lawyers had taken very extraordinary objections to the witnesses; upon the principle that the house was to confine itself entirely to the rules of courts of law: but it was truly remarkable, to find that they applied those objections to all those only, who were produced as witnesses in support of the Charges, but not to those who were called to contradict them. When he considered the objections which, now that the Inquiry was almost terminated, had such an influence on the advocates for the Duke of York relative to the non examination of the witnesses upon oath, he had, without at all admitting the validity of their argument, sincerely to regret that the evidence was not received under the influence of such an obligation. If that had been the case, the house, he was convinced, would have heard of none of those alleged contradictions, for this best reason, that, under such circumstances, no such questions could have been put as were put, with the real purpose of producing those very contradictions on which it was attempted at present to lay such stress. The house would not then have beard of this irrelevant Inquiry as to time and place, and motive, and those other numerous questions which were each a cause in itself, and tended to a direct and different issue, at the same time, that in no manner affected the investigation in which it was employed. Every witness who came to be examined in a cause, had been interrogated previously as to the matter at issue; but the witnesses who came to that house on such a question as this, did not come prepared to state particulars with such ac- curacy, as, upon further recollection and preparation, they might be enabled to do. For instance, Mrs. Clarke had not come prepared to state how many times she had visited Mrs. Favery. He was surprised to hear the honourable and learned judge opposite (Mr. Burton) state matters which shewed evidently that he had blotted every thing out of his memory which he must have learned and have practised in the course of his official duties. It had not yet been sufficiently explained by these learned lawyers, what was actually the improbable part of the testimony; for his part, he could not help thinking there was nothing at all improbable in it; for when he looked into the letter of the Duke of York that had been produced, he discovered fully as much improbability in it as in the whole statements of Mrs. Clarke. It was upon the conviction of her testimony, coupled with that of Miss Taylor and Mr. Dowler, by which it was corroborated, that he should be induced to give the vote he intended to give, namely for the original Address. It would be unnecessary, and indeed a waste of time, to restate the evidence, and therefore he should only observe, that, as to Dowler, he had a right to say he stood uncontradicted. As to the case of Dr. O'Meara, he could hardly take upon himself to say what was done; but it was evident, that through Mrs. Clarke he was put in a situation in which he was likely to be promoted. An endeavour was made to raise an alarm, lest that house should submit to the influence of a popular clamour. By whom was this alarm expressed? by those very servants of the Crown, who scarce two years ago, not only threatened the Parliament, within those walls, with what they called an appeal to the sense of the people; but afterwards ventured to carry that menace into effect. (Loud cries of hear! hear! hear!) And at what moment did they now deprecate popular influence? not until they Saw the v effect of the course which was adopted upon their own recommendation; not till they found the current of the public mind setting against their object; a current set in motion by that publicity of the proceedings on this subject, which they professed it their strenuous desire to have disseminated in every part of the kingdom. Although anxious foe the deliberate and unbiassed judgment of that house; he still would on all occasions be swayed by mind, and not by situation. In this country, he trusted the time would never arrive when these public feelings would be disregarded. On this occasion he felt himself bound to coincide with the opinion of the people, and therefore was determined, in the face of his Country and his God, to give his vote in favour of the original Address.

Mr. Rose

said, that he would occupy the time of the house but for a few moments. He had prepared himself to speak to many points of the evidence, and would have begged their attention for a longer space, if the able and perspicuous manner in which it had already been treated by his right hon. friends, did not render it unnecessary and even unpardonable, for him to retrace what they had so fully established. So unnecessary did he deem his remarks to the advancement of the cause to which he was favourable, that he would not have trespassed even for the few moments he intended, if he had not been called up by an allusion to precedents, which, in his opinion, were not correctly quoted. The hon. gent who had just sat down, undertook to defend the Address, by an appeal to the time of king William, from which he professed to have drawn a precedent in support of the present proceeding. He (Mr. Rose) was as favourably disposed to the time of king William as the hon. gent, could possibly be; but if he were not mistaken, that precedent was drawn from the time of Charles II. to which he was not quite so partial. He believed that the hon. gent.'s recollection had failed him in this particular, and that the precedent upon which he so much depended was not to be found in so happy and constitutional a period of our history as he conceived, when he produced it to the house. The hon. gent. had said, that the house upon that occasion addressed his majesty to remove the four lords from his councils and presence for ever; but when the hon. gent, stated this, he had not stated the whole of the case, for the house of lords took up the case and remonstrated upon the occasion; they said it was unjust that the accused peers should be condemned without a trial; and the result was, that their remonstrance was successful, and the Lords were not removed. There was another circumstance too to be considered which detracted much from the force of this appeal to precedent, and that was, that the whole course of the precedents, after that time, were all against the hon. gent.'s position; in the case of the duke of Marlborough, in the case of lord Halifax, in the case of lord Wharton, they were all against him; this, when combined with the failure of the former precedent, when pushed to its application, defeated that part of the argument which was attempted to be built upon precedent.—He had stated upon rising, that he would not go into the evidence, and would observe that promise; one observation, however, he would make before he sat down, upon the case of Dowler; he had wished that the executors of Mr. Pitt should be applied to, as he thought that if the recommendation did not appear in some of the books in their possession, the fact would be established that he was promoted according to the regular course. He had consulted with the executor of the late Mr. Pitt, and ascertained that the recommendation of that person was not entered in any of his papers. Had the Duke of York recommended him, the recommendation, he was sure, would have been entered, but no such document was to be found. He begged to remind the house that the situation of Paymaster was not one which was eagerly sought after; it required much attention, and was by no means so great an object as had been represented by those who would swell the gift into importance. Upon the whole, he was of opinion that the case was not proved against his Royal Highness, and therefore would not agree either in the Address or the Amendment.

Mr. Wortley Stewart

said, that having formed his opinion upon the question before the house, he was desirous to state the grounds upon which it was formed. He thought that the House of Commons was right in determining to examine witnesses at the bar, but after the manner in which the evidence had gone forth to the public, garbled and disfigured as it appeared in the daily prints, he dreaded, nay, he believed that the majority of the people of England did think the Duke of York guilty. At a time when the country called for extraordinary exertion, he was not sorry to see the people jealous of their own character, and jealous of the honour and character of their princes. He trusted, therefore that they would come to a decision on this subject and not send the person accused forth with a stain on his reputation. To him it appeared that the Duke of York was not only not guilty, but that there was strong evidence that they had all been imposed on. He gave credit to the hon. gent. who brought forward the business, for the man- liness and perseverance with which he had acted. The hon. gent., and a noble lord, (lord Folkestone) and an hon. bart. (sir Francis Burdett) agreed in thinking that the Duke of York was guilty of corruption; if they did think so, why not follow it up? Why come forward with such a measure, when one far more decisive and severe was called for by the circumstance of the case? In these times, when the country was in such a situation, when the people were committed to such a struggle against contending enemies; in these times, it was necessary that the characters of princes should not be frittered away; characters in which they were all equally concerned; and should they send forth that prince to the public, with a character lacerated by imputations, upon which they did not dare to give an opinion? He was prepared to give his verdict, and to give it conscientiously; he was prepared to say, not only that the Duke of York was not guilty, but that there were ample grounds upon the face of the evidence to induce him to believe that the whole was a foul plot against him. He wished particularly to notice the case of major Shaw, because he considered it most important, inasmuch as it furnished a ground for rejecting Mrs. Clarke's testimony, by proving, that in this instance she had spoken what he could not forbear from calling downright lies. She stated, that major Shaw applied to her for a Lieutenant-Colonelcy, that he promised her 1000l. for her interest, but that she got only 500l. and that in consequence of that breach of promise, he was reduced upon the half-pay. Now, it was proved in evidence, not subject to the suspicion which Mrs. Clarke's general character must have thrown over her's, that major Shaw obtained the situation at the Cape of Good Hope, upon the condition that he would go upon half-pay; this was expressly understood when he accepted the situation; and yet Mrs. Clarke would have them believe that it was in consequence of his disappointing her that his reduction from full pay was inflicted. A letter of Mrs. Clarke's, which appeared in evidence, confirmed his disbelief of her account upon examination, and proved that she did not negociate the promotions; it was manifest also from au appeal to dates. With respect to the case of col. French, it was evident that with all her boast of influence, many things were refused to him, though nothing could put more money in her pocket, or with less danger to the Duke of York. As to the corroborative evidence of Miss Taylor, he begged to remark that she had given it in a qualified manner; she said not positively what his words were; but in a doubtful and uncertain way, she said, she thought they were, "how does he use you, darling?" when a witness swore to a conversation at the end of four years, he was not inclined to give credit to that evidence. There might be a mistake in the account, there might be too much presumption and too much reliance on memory; at all events, there were circumstances that should incline every body to weigh it maturely, and regard it suspiciously. Whatever he was inclined to think of the Duke of York's indiscretion, for indiscretion he allowed he had been guilty of, in the unfortunate connection he had formed,—whatever he might think of that, he could not say, from the face of the evidence, that the Duke of York was guilty of corruption. As to the Note to capt. Sandon, the hon. member said, that it appeared throughout the whole that she pretended to an influence she never possessed. Capt. Sandon had told them in evidence, that he did not believe she possessed any influence. He was not desirous of vindicating the conduct of Sandon, or proving him, upon the whole, to be a credible witness; but there was a circumstance which, in his mind, supported and enforced his evidence in that particular, and gave it a stamp of veracity that would not easily be obliterated. It appeared in evidence that capt. Sandon and Mrs. Clarke had a quarrel. He appealed to the understanding of the house, whether they thought it likely that capt. Sandon would so far forget his own interest as to break with her, if he thought she possessed the influence she represented herself as possessed of? With respect to General Claveriug, he would as soon think that any hon. member of that house would go after Mrs. Clarke, and, offer her 1000l. for a situation, as that gallant officer. The Address, against which he was resolved to vote, was stated by it's advocates as originating in motives of delicacy; but wherein the delicacy consisted, he was at a loss to comprehend. There were fathers in that house, and to their hearts he was confident the delicacy of such a measure was as unintelligible as to his own. The Duke of York himself had said he was not guilty; he had required to be put on his trial; in requiring that, he had only required what could not with justice be withheld from the meanest subject; the house was therefore bound to acquiesce in the request, and to reject the Address proposed by the hon. gent. He disapproved of the course which bad been adopted by the other side of the house. At first, an Address was proposed, setting forth that the Duke of York was guilty of corruption; an Amendment was suggested to that, differing from the original Address only in one word, that is, as far as respected the material parts. In the first, his royal highness was accused of a knowledge of the corrupt transactions; in the second, suspicion was substituted for knowledge; for his part, he could see no difference between those expressions; it was a fine-drawn distinction, too minute for his glance. The Amendment, so far from recommending itself by its greater lenity and forbearance, was, if possible, worse than the original Address; it was not so direct, so plain, so manly. A noble lord and an hon. bart, had inculcated the necessity' of coming to a decision with unprejudiced minds; it would be well to do so; but he had his apprehensions; he could not help conceiving, that there were persons who would take strong views upon that subject; who, thinking that government was disgraced by prostitution would transfer their sentiments unavoidably into the matter of that night's debate, and the feeling of that night's decision. This he could not help thinking, and he was of opinion that such persons were as likely to came with prejudiced minds, as they who believed in a principle of human nature, which would not easily permit it to descend. He was of opinion, that they were as likely to act from prejudice, as those who had imbibed higher ideas of the integrity of mankind at large. It had been proposed, that all who held places should quit the house on the decision, as if the possession of a place could preclude men from the possibility of coming to a just decision. They had sufficient evidence before them to acquit the Duke of York; whatever might be the termination of that business, it had done the House of Commons great honour; and whatever feelings the people might, for a short while be impressed with, he was confident that but a little reflexion, and a little time, would be necessary to convince them of the justice of that line of conduct which he hoped the house would adopt.

Sir Francis Burdett,

in explanation, said, that if his memory served him rightly, he did not represent Mrs. Clarke's testimony alone as sufficient to convict any person; but he bad said, that her testimony, corroborated as it was, had nothing in it that should render it incredible. He had been accused of saying, that any one who voted upon the other side, must be influenced by prejudice; but he had only said that a right hon. gent. opposite, in excluding all the evidence that made against the side he espoused, appeared to him to be labouring under something of that description.

Mr. Long

said, that he wished to offer a few words upon the evidence, but would not detain the house by going at any length into the detail. He wished to refer to some points, more particularly to the case of Kennel. It had been said, that the Duke of York applied to him (Mr. Long) for a place for that gentleman. He denied that any such application was made from that quarter; in the first instance application had certainly been made to him through sir Horace Mann, and the Duke of York, he believed, seconded it. An hon. gent, opposite had said, that this was the strongest proof of Mrs. Clarke's credibility, and slated farther, that the Duke of York must have procured sir Horace Mann, a respectable member of parliament, to lend his name to the transaction, and become an instrument of his corrupt designs. In this he (Mr. Long) could not concur. There was a letter, applying to the Duke of York, in favour of Mr. Kennet; and if his royal highness, not knowing the character of the man, should make application to arrive at a knowledge of his character, no criminality could attach to him upon that ground. The fact was, that sir Horace Mann was the person who applied for the situation, and never did he (Mr. Long) meet with a more assiduous, anxious, and importunate applicant. The two letters requesting Mr. Kennet to retain the Collectorship of Surinam, were one a copy of the other. Some hon. gentleman had said, that the testimony of Mr. Dowler was unimpeached; he would say, upon the contrary, that that gentleman came forward under circumstances of great suspicion. He said that he had seen Mrs. Clarke but once since his return at her own house, and once in the House of Commons; that the occasion upon which he waited upon her was, having seen her name in the papers, and wishing that he should not be brought forward upon that business. Now they had it in evidence, that he had seen her twice, and such a representation must appear to the judgment of every man to be meant to give a false colouring to the testi- mony. It came out from Mrs. Clarke's evidence, that she passed the night with him on the Thursday preceding this very Sunday when he gave it to the house to understand, that he saw her for the first time. There were other circumstances, beside this, to cast a doubt over his testimony. He had stated that he disapproved of her conduct in the traffic which he had known her to pursue, he had advised and remonstrated with her upon the impropriety and the danger of it, but notwithstanding that advice and that remonstrance, he had himself become a party; he had purchased from her the exercise of improper influence, and profited by what he affected to despise and to discountenance. It appeared from his testimony, that he had given her 1.00Ol. for the appointment, and other sums at other times to a considerable a mount. The right hon. member asked, was it probable that he would pay 1,000l. and other sums to a considerable amount, for a situation which imposed much trouble, which required much cleverness and activity, and in which he was subject to be reduced to five shillings per day? Was it not more probable that he would give the lady some money, and that that struck him as the best way to induce her to accept it? He (Mr. L.) felt as much as any man the duty of explaining all he knew, and he hoped the house would give him credit, when he assured them he had done it conscientiously. When an hon. member in that house had mentioned the name of sir Brook Watson, and stated his acquaintance with the father of Mr. Dowler, Mrs. Clarke, conscious that such a connexion might weaken the appearance of her influence over his royal highness, or at least afford grounds for supposing that it was not exercised or required in this instance, told the house, at a subsequent examination, that she mentioned Mr. Dowler's acquaintance with sir Brook Watson to the Duke, who replied, "that with do; his recommendation will be of use." Here was an instance of the ingenuity of the woman, and of her falsehood. He had only one word more to add upon the subject, and that respected the appointment of Samuel Carter. An hon. bart. had stated the appointment to be more honourable to Mrs. Clarke than to the Duke of York. He could not agree to it; for in one of her answers, upon a subsequent examination, when questioned respecting Carter, she said, with one of her laughs, which some ap- proved, while others were disgusted at them, "O! he is now upon the staff," plainly indicating, by her manner, that that was another impropriety added to the former impropriety of his original appointment. On that account the hon. member was not inclined to give her all the credit for her conduct which some had attributed to it. The manner bespoke a feeling which he was not prepared to respect. Some observations had gone forth upon that case, tending to sow dissensions in the army, and amounted to a flagrant abuse of the liberty of the press. He would decline any examination of the evidence respecting Samuel Carter, as that case seemed to be disclaimed by the friends of the hon. gent. who brought forward the charges. He applauded the honourable manner in which a gentleman on the opposite bench (Mr. Whitbread) had spoken on that subject. He trusted his manly sentiments would counteract the mischief that was likely to arise from bringing forward a subject calculated to sow dissension in the army, to weaken the tie between the officer and the soldier. As to the testimony of col. Gordon, he had but one word to say upon it; it was perfectly unimpeachable; some gentlemen, however, upon the opposite side, appeared to cast reflections upon it, but they did not apply. He (Mr. Long) had frequent intercourse with him in his official capacity; and he could say, if ever there was a man who dedicated his life to the service of the public and the duties of his office, that man was col. Gordon. The first Address he thought objectionable, because it went to pronounce judgment without defining the crime; the other he thought objectionable, because it charged the Duke of York with suspicion, and drew a distinction, incomprehensible to him. If he did suspect, ought he not to have inquired into the corruption he so suspected? A man might refuse to look into the state of his affairs, if they were desperate, but would it, therefore, be said, that that man was not in debt? An hon. gent. had said, that it was not of corruption he accused the Duke of York, but of admitting an influence injurious to the public service; if that was, indeed, all, they should take the good as well as the bad, into account, and they would find the good to preponderate. Did the nation, he asked, intend the removal of the Duke of York? If it did, it ought to say so; it ought not to effect the destruction of his character without trial: if they supposed even the case of the meanest individual, either with respect to life or property, and that evidence was to be sent out to the public, as upon this occasion, accompanied with all the documents that ingenuity or malice could furnish, he asked, whether justice would be done to the individual? Gentlemen upon the opposite side might say, it is true, you can make much out of the evidence, but the feeling of the country is against him, and that is to counterbalance your defence; they might say that, and in saying so, they would be only repeating arguments he had heard a thousand times in the street. A noble lord had expressed a wish, that they might be swayed by no private affection, but act like honourable men; he hoped so too, he joined in that wish most ardently. He knew that princes often gave themselves greater latitude in their conduct than other men; but at the same time he knew there were many circumstances attached to the condition of princes, which afforded a palliation inapplicable to the errors of other men. When he considered that they were debarred from an extensive commerce with mankind, when he considered that they were prohibited from an intercourse with life in its most general and useful sense, and were by that means excluded from the practical lessons that result from intercourse and observation; he saw an extenuation in their favour, which did not apply to the faults of other men, whose fate was more obscure, but whose fortune was perhaps more favourable. The hon. member concluded with observing, that he could not accede to the Address, nor to the Amendment proposed to it by his hon. friend; but the latter he particularly objected to, as not consistent with the character and dignity of the house, which ought to have the energy and decision to pronounce "guilty," or "not guilty," upon the charges.

Mr. Coke (of) Norfolk

said, that though the original Address might not be carried, yet in conscience he would say from the evidence, that there was corruption in the extreme, personally attached to the Duke of York. Circumstantial evidence he built upon, and this he felt to be so much stronger than positive evidence, at least it had carried more men to the gallows. Had any doubt remained on his mind in the matter, the speech of his hon. friend (Mr. Whitbread) would have removed it all. He was determined to oppose corruption, what- ever form it might assume; and its defence he would leave to those who were likely to thrive by it. If the country was to be saved, it could only be saved by opposing 6uch corruption. When he looked to the situation of the hon. gentlemen on the other side of the house, he would no longer pay any attention to what they said on this subject (Loud cries of order! order!). The hon. gent. concluded by returning his thanks to the hon. mover (col. Wardle).

Mr. Windham.

—I have abstained hitherto from delivering my sentiments to the house, because I felt that it was desirable for me to collect, in the course of the discussion, the opinions of as many different members as possible upon this important, delicate, and difficult question, before I ventured to offer any view of my own upon it. If I am now anxious to state my opinion upon the subject, it is because of the crisis of the proceeding at which the house has arrived; because of the mode of proceeding which is next proposed to be adopted; and because very erroneous opinions have been formed upon that mode of proceeding. But, before I enter into this consideration, it will first be necessary to consider what is the actual state of the question. Statements have been made to this house, rather than charges, which impute misconduct to the Commander in Chief. An inquiry at the bar of the house has been the consequence, and four modes of proceeding have subsequently been recommended. An Address to his majesty has been originally proposed, suggesting what measure should be adopted; then came the Resolution of the right hon. the Chancellor of the Exchequer, acquitting his royal highness altogether; the third course is that proposed by the right hon. gent, upon the floor (Mr. Bathurst); and the last is the Address of the hon. gent. (Mr. Bankes,) containing an opinion respecting the conduct of the Commander in Chief, and differing upon the whole from the original Address. With any one of these modes of proceeding I shall be able, if necessary, to concur, however I may have a preference of one over the other. I speak, of course, of the forms of proceeding, not of the opinions, by which they may be accompanied or intended to; be followed, with all of which it will not be possible to concur, because many, of them are in contradiction with each other.

There is, however, a higher and more general question of proceeding, paramount to those just enumerated, which it will be necessary previously to discuss, and which I shall endeavour to explain.—There seems to be an intention of calling upon the house to resolve the great subject before them into certain issuable points upon which separate decisions should be taken, and then upon the decisions so taken, and as a consequence derived from them, to ground an Address, expressing the opinion of the house as to what ought further to be done.

However plausible this may sound, and however true it may be, that such is the course, which each individual will pursue in forming his opinion, I am clear that, as a mode of judging to be adopted by this house, or by any other tribunal consisting of numerous members, it is as little true in theory, as it is conformable to general and established practice. With respect to practice, it is obvious, that it is not in this way that the house determines the numerous complicated questions that are continually coming before it. For the purpose here considered, it is of no consequence, whether the question is of a judicial nature or of any other. The laws of reasoning and the rules by which one truth is deduced from another, are the same in all subjects. A question of peace and war may involve in it a great variety of subordinate questions, such as, Whether the war projected is consistent with the good faith of the country, and with subsisting treaties, whether it is consistent with its commercial interests, is likely to prove conducive to its object, & c. & c. Yet the house does not come to a separate decision upon these points, and then from these separate decisions, derive its general conclusion upon the whole. It goes at once to the general conclusion, leaving to each man to adjust in his own mind the value to be attached to each of these separate considerations. In fact, in the very plan now proposed, we 110 sooner lay down the principle, than we feel ourselves compelled the moment afterwards to abandon it: for if we did not, when we are deciding the question of guilty or not of participation, & c., we must say, guilty or not of participation in the case of San-don, in the case of Knight, and so on in each case to which the question of participation can apply. I protest, therefore, against the whole of this mode of proceeding, and declare beforehand, that should it be adopted by the house, and should I concur, as I certainly shall, in acquitting the Duke of York of participation or connivance, I shall not feel myself precluded from taking into account, the presumptions established in those very charges, cu which t have so acquitted him, in deciding upon the general question, of Whether or no the Duke of York should be advised to withdraw (or the king be advised to remove him,) from the situation of Commander in Chief? When I shall have pronounced a verdict of acquittal on all and every one of these charges, I shall have said nothing, that would be inconsistent with the opinion, that the Duke ought, notwithstanding, and with respect to those very charges, no longer to remain in his situation at the head of the army. There would be no difficulty in establishing the truth of the position here laid down, and doing away whatever there was of seeming paradox in it, but I shall forbear from troubling the house for that purpose, as I collect from the gestures of the hon. gentlemen, that the contrary is not maintained, and that there is no intention of forcing upon the house a course of proceeding such as I had apprehended.

I shall consider myself, therefore, as at liberty to treat the whole question from the beginning, as one, and not as restricted to the necessity of breaking it into parts, according to a prescribed form, deciding those parts as separate questions, and then, from the result of those separate questions, and the conclusions which the house shall severally have come to upon them, forming my opinion upon the whole. The main question is, What shall the house do in consequence of the body of evidence now brought before it? What steps shall it take? What resolutions shall it come to? What advice shall it give?

In every view, and for every purpose, it is necessary to consider the nature and value of the evidence, the general heads under which it falls, and the main facts which it establishes. After the minute examination which it has undergone, I shall be far from feeling it necessary to go into any minute detail, it will be sufficient for me to state such remarks as seem to me at all material in the character and result of the leading parts of it. Among these, Mrs. Clarke's evidently stands foremost. She is the life and soul of the whole. Her testimony, if it is to be received implicitly, is at once conclusive. We are to consider what there may be to render any part of her testimony doubtful.

Her general situation in the cause is certainly such as to expose her to great aus- picion. She is so circumstanced as to be open to strong temptations to falsehood, both on the side of interest and of passion: and what ground of assurance is there that these motives will have been resisted? She is, in the first place, a woman without that virtue which is the great pride and ornament of the sex, and is, in the universal estimation of mankind, the great foundation and pledge of all others. However it happens, or in whatever way, is to he explained, it must be confessed, (without wishing to bear too hard upon the frailties of the sex,) that the loss of chastity in women, does carry away with it a great portion of all their other virtues. But, Mrs. Clarke is a woman, who is not only unchaste but is publicly known to be so; that is to say, who is not only without virtue but without shame; who has long incurred and become familiar to the opprobrium of the world; and has therefore set herself free from another security for right conduct, and one which is hardly less strong than virtue itself. It is impossible to have seen her here without seeing what the effect of her trade has been in hardening her against those feelings, which would have operated on most of her sex.

These are presumptions arising from her general character and habits of life. There are others arising from the particular situation in which she stands with respect to the transactions under discussion. She appears in the character of an accomplice. If the acts charged would he scandalous and flagrant in the person to whom they are imputed, she cannot be blameless or guiltless, who carried on a systematic traffic for procuring them to be done.—Upon this subject of accomplices, of the manner in which they are to be admitted into causes, and of the way in which their evidence is to reckon, we have heard a great deal from those, who should be presumed to understand it, but who certainly seem, on this occasion, only to have given a new proof, that gentlemen of the legal profession do not form always the best conceptions of the principles of their own practice.—It may be said, indeed, of the whole doctrine of evidence, whether as we hear it treated daily by living practitioners, or as it is delivered in hooks and learned tracts of the most approved authority, that it is, what certain heads of disorder have been said to be with respect to physicians, the opprobrium juris consultorum. One position laid down has been, that the evidence of an accomplice is to be believed only so far as it is supported by other proofs. If by this is meant only (what it would express however very inaccurately,) that no one should be convicted upon the mere testimony of an accomplice, unsupported by other testimony or by other proofs, the position may be readily admitted; but if it is meant that every part of the evidence of an accomplice requires to to be so supported, the result must be, that the evidence of an accomplice was of no effect at all, supposing that by support was meant complete support, that is to say, evidence so good as to he sufficient of itself. For if by support here is meant only evidence imperfect or doubtful, such as might induce a belief, but not an adequate belief, then this description of the force and value of an accomplice's evidence, is no more than what might seem to be expressed in a simpler and more intelligible manner, by saying that it was evidence of an inferior kind, which had its weight, but was not fit to be relied on altogether. Whatever its value be, it must be something, otherwise there would be no sense or meaning in admitting it into a cause. If a witness can add to the credit of another's testimony, it mast be by the effect of some credit, more or less, that is due to his own. A witness from whom you believe nothing but what; you can prove by other means, (or who, according to the language that we often hear, is to be believed only so far as he is supported by witnesses that are credible) is no witness at all.

I do not know, therefore, what can be made of a distinction which a learned judge, (Mr. Burton) was endeavouring to set up, of the testimony of accomplices being good with respect to collateral or incidental circumstances, but not so with respect to those main circumstances which go to fix the guilt directly upon the party accused. You either give some degree of credit to the accomplice or you give none. If none, it is needless to call him. If he is to be credited in any degree, the credit so given him, though possibly not the same on all the points on which he may have to speak, will vary by other rules than the mere application of the point in question to the condemnation or acquittal of the prisoner. —Au accomplice, with respect to the mere effect which his testimony will have in influencing belief, is in the state of any other witness, whose credibility, supposing his accu- racy to be the same, is to be estimated by his temptations to falsehood, and the probity which he may be supposed to possess to guard him against such temptation.

So much for the theory. As to the practice, I am afraid, it is sometimes carried as much beyond the limits to which theory would confine it, as there is at other times a desire to make it fall short of them. The case mentioned by my hon. and learned friend (sir Samuel Romilly), is a strong proof of this. There can be no doubt, that, if the facts stated form the whole of the case, the prisoner was convicted solely upon the evidence of a man, who could not have given that evidence, without confessing himself a participator to the full extent, in the guilt charged. The conviction seems to have been a most improper one, and is not rendered better by the reflection, that the man who could have been so convicted, was certainly not a Commander in Chief nor a Governor General of India.

To return to the case in question. Mrs. Clarke is undoubtedly an accomplice, and on that, as well as on various other accounts, is to be heard with great distrust. But, still, her evidence is not to be rejected nor disregarded: and we are to consider what circumstances there may be to repel or do away a great part of the presumptions arising against her from the causes above stated. Though it may be too much to say, (and far more than we are called upon to say by any evidence before as) that she is, generally speaking, an unwilling witness; yet we know, of our own knowledge, that she has been so in some instances, and must fairly be said to have given proofs of a great degree of moderation and forbearance. These are virtues often to he found among women whose lives and conduct have not been more regular than Mrs. Clarke's, and which she has displayed in several instances in a very marked manner. She would clearly have suppressed all the circumstances connected with col. Tonyn's business, if she had not been absolutely forced to produce them by the foolish and scandalous attack made upon her by general Clavering, which completely drove her to the wall, and left her no option between the production of these facts and the confession, (which she could hardly be expected to make, at the moment too when her evidence was correctly true,) that she was a woman wholly undeserving of credit. Her credit, which is impeached by the circumstances in which she stands, is thus in a considerable degree set up again, by the manner in which we have seen her act in those circumstances. She evidently cannot be treated as a woman, who is borne away by a spirit of resentment, which knows no bounds: because she has shown that she is not so borne away, but is restrained by considerations, such as we cannot assume to be stronger than those which, even in a mind as little principled as hers, might prevent the production of evidence, known not to be true.

If such seems to be the balance of the account between the presumptions for and against her credibility, which may be derived from a general view of her situation and conduct, it remains to be considered, how these motives and considerations appear to have operated in point of fact, and what is the general colour and character of her testimony; such as we have heard it delivered, and as we have it now before us. Various attempts have been made to entrap her in her answers, and to find out parts of her testimony in which she may appear to be inconsistent, either with others, or with herself. For my part, I must fairly confess, that these attempts, as far as I can recollect, did not, in any instance, appear to me to be successful. On those points where a difference occurred between her and Mr. Knight, it appeared to me, that Mr. Knight was quite as likely to be mistaken as she; nothing was more easily intelligible than one of those on which so much stress had been laid, as if it were difficult to be understood why she should express an unwillingness to the mention of the matter to the Duke of York. Mrs. Clarke had denied her having expressed any such unwillingness; answering rather to the inference which she saw was intended than to the fact itself; and committing thereby, if her denial was false, a most unnecessary deviation from truth: for nothing could have been more safe to her, than to admit to the full extent all that Mr. Knight ascribed to her; namely, that she had given a caution to him not to repeat what he had heard, to the Duke of York.—For what is this notion that such a caution could only be necessary, on the supposition that she carefully concealed from h. r. h. the traffic in which she was engaged? I believe, that she did, in fact, conceal it from the Duke; that is to say, the corrupt part of it. But such a supposition is not necessary, to account for a wish on her part, that what passed in conversation between her and persons whom she was treating with, should not come round to his royal highness's ears; because, though he Mere privy to these things ever so much, there was still reason sufficient, why he should not chuse to be known to be privy to them, and might be very angry at the report of any conversation which should seem to fix upon him that knowledge. Scire meum nihil est, nisi nee scire hoc sciat alter. I may know that you take money for these services: but do not let any one else know that I know it.

Of a sort equally unimportant were many other of the inaccuracies or inconsistencies, which were supposed to have been discovered in her evidence. They were, many of them, upon points which she had no interest in representing one way more than in another, or on which, when the opposition was to the testimony of others, there was just as much probability of her being right as they. In general, I must fairly say, they were of that sort, which instead of detracting from the authority of her evidence, only gave to it, in my eyes, a greater character of genuineness and authenticity. I should have suspected it more, bad the inaccuracies in it been fewer. There was just about as much incorrectness as might be expected in the answers of a person, who spoke without design or premeditation on transactions some time past, and which, many of them, had not been at the time the subject of particular attention. It was impossible, indeed, not to be struck by the general air of frankness and facility with which her evidence was characterized throughout. There was nothing of stiffness and preparation. There was no time taken to look for an answer or to give to it any other shape, than that which it first received in her mind. She wrote a running hand. "She poured forth," as a great critic says of one of our poets, "a negligent profusion; certain of the weight, and careless of the stamp."

With this description of the general character of Mrs. Clarke's Evidence, on what grounds, it will be asked, do I afterwards reject the truth of it? And, admitting the truth of it, how can I resist the conclusion, that the Duke of York is guilty to the full extent? The answer is, that I do admit the truth of her testimony in all the parts to which the description, above given, will apply; but that the description does not, nor by its nature can, apply to those parts by which alone the Duke of York must stand convicted.

It has not been observed sufficiently, that Mrs. Clarke's evidence must be divided into two great heads, very unequal in hulk, and very unequal in consequence; and the largest, as it happened, not that which was most important. In all that part of the cause, being nine-tenths or ninety-nine hundredths of the whole, which related to the existence of a corrupt traffic for the disposal of commissions, and to the transactions which took place in consequence, Mrs. Clarke's evidence deserved the character which he had given of it; and was, he believed, true. But all this, without further aid, told nothing as to the object of the prosecution, viz. the guilt of the Duke of York; whom do extent or variety in the existence of the abuse would ever touch, unless it could be shown, in some degree, that he was, or ought to have been, cognizant of it. Now, this it is, that makes what may be called the second part of Mrs. Clarke's Evidence, to the truth of which, no inference can be drawn from the truth of the first; for it is subject to none of the same constraints, nor can be judged of by any of the same criteria. It consists of half a dozen sentences, in which she speaks without the possibility of detection or confutation, or indeed, even of contradiction, except from the party himself. When she has told with perfect truth all her transactions with Knight, with Donovan, with Sandon, with Clavering, nay, many with the Duke of York himself, that which is to give effect to the whole, which is necessary to make any part bear upon its object, is a declaration that she in private conversations, (conversations so private, that nobody was, or, it may be, could have been present,) had made known all that she had been doing, to the Duke of York. Without this, all the story conies to nothing: and what connection is there between the truth of the story, and the truth of the declaration of her having told that story to a particular person? Mrs. Clarke (I am among the first to admit), delivers her evidence throughout with the confidence and facility of a person who was speaking truth: but the presumption thence arising, as to the actual truth, is not the same in all the parts of her evidence. Where it relates to matters falling within the cognizance of others, she proceeds fearlessly, she speaks confidently, because she is in fact speak- ing truly; but in other parts, far more material, she may speak with confidence only because she knows, that whether speaking truly or falsely, she is safe from detection. No one can ever convict her as to the truth or falsehood of declarations, said to have passed only between her and the Duke of York. Here she is covered with a shield of impenetrable darkness: she may say whatever she pleases; conviction can never reach her. In all the other parts of her evidence, she might safely tell the truth, because the truth was abundantly sufficient for all purposes, if it could he shown only that the Duke was acquainted with it.

It must never be forgot, that the proof of this last point, namely, the knowledge which the Duke had of the criminal parts of these transactions, rests entirely upon Mrs. Clarke, with no other support than what she can derive from Miss Taylor. I am far from approving the attempts that have been made to discredit and disparage Miss Taylor, or from thinking that they have been at all successful. Indeed, their success would have been, in a great measure, their justification. If Miss Taylor's character was really bad, so as to render her undeserving of credit, the interests of justice required that it should be shown to be so, however the means employed for that purpose might be attended with consequences painful or prejudicial to her. But the attempts were neither successful, nor did they seem, many of them, to have been fairly directed to their object. What idea could we entertain of Miss Taylor's credit being destroyed as a witness, because she had not the virtue (if virtue even it would have been, in all the circumstances of the case) to break off all communication with Mrs. Clarke, her relation and benefactress, the moment she found she had formed an improper connection with the Duke of York? This might have been right: I will not say, that it was not: but it was a stricter right than we were accustomed to exact from persons from whom it might more fairly be looked for. Would we take this rule in our hand, and apply it to the trial of all that might be found in higher life?

The fact is, that if Miss Taylor's testimony is to be arraigned, it must be on the ground of circumstances in the testimony itself, and not of the person who gave it. The case here is the very reverse of the former. Mrs. Clarke is a bad witness giving a good testimony. Miss Taylor is a good witness giving a testimony liable to considerable suspicion. Let Miss Taylor's evidence be examined in this view. The most unpleasant part of it is the expression, "How did he behave to you, Darling?" Many gentlemen have thought that this might be explained to mean, what was his general conduct towards you, in respect to being importunate and troublesome? But I confess that it was difficult not to understand the word "behave" in a more restricted and technical sense, well understood among persons in the class of life in which Miss Taylor might be placed; and it is no answer to say, that Miss Taylor, or those whose expressions she was repeating, might not be persons very nice and critical in the vise of their terms. There are no persons more correct in the use of such terms as they employ at all, than those whose vocabulary is small, and who use it without reflection or premeditation, merely to express ideas of daily occurrence, in conversation with persons as little studious of language as themselves. There is nothing so true as habit. While there is no ambition in the speakers to speak beyond themselves, the same words are used to denote the same ideas, and contract by use a degree of precision, which can never be given them by thought and study. I would pit the most illiterate person in this country, against the most learned professor of Dublin or Edinburgh, in the use of the words shall and will; and if I had heard in any part of the evidence, those expressions, now so familiar, of a person having done this or that 'before going down stairs, before getting into the coach,' I should have been sure that they were either not truly repeated, or were not the expressions of a native of this part of the island. I cannot satisfy myself at all, therefore, that if this expression of 'how did he behave?' was truly cited, it did not signify all that was meant to be imputed to it. But I may easily doubt, whether the expression was truly cited; and whether in the recollection of a conversation, not very recent, and having nothing at the time, as far as appeared, to impress that particular part immediately on the mind of the witness, a Utile change may not have been introduced, insensible at the moment, but so establishing itself after a few repetitions, as to maintain its ground against any subsequent effort of recollection to set it right. I cannot lay much stress upon a circumstance, which to some gentlemen has appeared of importance, viz. that Miss Taylor should have recollected so accurately the particulars of this conversation, and have forgot so much of what had passed at later periods. Of irregularities of this sort, no one can fail to find examples in himself every day. The real circumstance of surprize and suspicion is, that Miss Taylor should have so little recollection of what had been said to her subsequently in respect to this very conversation. She comes here with her story evidently ready cut and dry. It was not a point that had arisen unexpectedly in the course of examination, and on which she had related what her recollection furnished at the moment, as was often the case with Mrs. Clarke; but she is brought to tell this very thing, which must therefore have been the subject of previous conversation, and then seems to recollect nothing of what had at any time passed upon it. It is impossible not to regard a testimony so circumstanced, considering what it is in the cause, from what quarter it comes, and in what manner it is produced, with some degree of suspicion; and to suspect here is to suspect the whole foundation of the question. The persons who look at this cause loosely and carelessly, in the way in which it is looked at by ninety parts out of a hundred of what are called the public, never perceive upon what a slender foundation the whole rests, upon what slender pivots it is made to turn; they see a vast deal of charge, a vast deal of suspicion, a great mass of abusive practices, a great variety of facts, much the greater part of them proved; and they conclude from hence, that a great portion of the charge is proved. But when the matter comes to be examined as those ought to examine it who are to sit in judgment upon it, it is found that the only two points in which this bulky and imposing mass is made to touch the D. of Y., are in the evidence of Miss Taylor and Mrs. Clarke; Mrs. Clarke speaking to communications made by her to the Duke with no person present, and Miss Taylor coming in in support of her friend, in a solitary instance, and where the whole force of her testimony depends upon her correctness in the report or' a particular expression. The passage in the Note to general Clavering, I think, proves nothing but that which has been proved over and over, and need not be disputed; namely, that Mrs. C. made application to the Duke for objects of this sort, and that the Duke did not always prevent her, as indeed it would be difficult for him to do, from talking to him upon such subjects. What is wanted is a direct proof, or adequate presumption, that the Duke accepted her recommendations, knowing them to have been obtained corruptly; and evidence to this effect we have none, except in the declarations of Mrs. Clarke, and the story, which he had been just examining, of Miss Taylor.

This was all that we had upon that head in the shape of testimony. There was, it was urged, the general presumption, arising from the rate at which the Duke of York saw his mistress live, compared with the money which he allowed her. Knowing that the one was inadequate to the other, the allowance to the expence, he must have been satisfied, it is said, that she had indirect means of profit; and these could be no other than bribes received for the exertion of her influence. It may be true, that the Duke of York ought to have made this calculation; but nothing appears to me more natural and likely than that in point of fact he did not. Persons bred to small fortunes and to economical habits, may find a difficulty of believing how any one could much mistake in the proportion between his income and expenditure: yet, surely, examples of such mistakes are not wanting, nor fail to occur daily, even in the lower walks of life; and much more may they be expected in persons placed from their infancy above the want of money, and whose minds have been directed to any thing rather than to the management of their own affairs. There is no limit to the errors which such persons may commit, when endeavouring to form such estimates; and who knows that the Duke of York ever thought upon the subject? He bad not only his habits of idleness, but his habits of diligence, to contend with; and if any one would form to himself an idea of the business which a Commander in Chief had to go through every day of his life, and which the Duke of York did go through, he would neither wonder at, nor be much disposed to blame, any instance of ignorance or inattention that might occur in the management of his private affairs. Much of Mrs. Clarke's expences too, it must be remembered, never came within the cognizance of her protector, and many of them possibly were never intended to do so. Her great dinners were all necessarily given when he was not present.

The reasoning, therefore, that would fix upon the Duke of York the gross charge of having connived at his mistress's corrup- tions, inasmuch as he must be presumed to have known, that she could not otherwise have gone on without a greater debt than she was found, in fact, to have contracted, is of a nature infinitely too loose and uncertain to be allowed of for that purpose, whatever shade of suspicion gentlemen thinking more of it than I do, may consider it as casting over the whole of the case.

Here the case may be considered as closing, respecting that part of the charge on which the illustrious personage in question, and all those interested in his reputation, must feel beyond comparison the most jealous; I mean that gross and foul part which would inmate to the royal Duke the idea of participation or even connivance. The whole of this, with the aid of such a surmise as that which I have recently adverted to, rests on the sole assertion of Mrs. Clarke, or if you please, of Mrs. Clarke, backed by Miss Taylor. All the abundant proof contained in the other parts of the evidence, the direct, the circumstancial, the proof by inference, the proof by assertion, tell nothing as to the point really in question, namely, the knowledge of these things (meaning always the corrupt part of them,) by the Duke of York. With all your efforts, you never can get beyond the evidence of Mrs. Clarke and Miss Taylor; Miss Taylor, moreover, contributes nothing but a single and doubtful sentence. Yet, with three fourths of those whom we hear talk upon the subject, the case is thought to be proved with a force of evidence that nothing can resist. There never was such a strange and blundering misconception; unless, indeed, it shall be said, that such are always the misconceptions on subjects of legal proof, by those who have not the means, or will not take the pains, or do not possess the habits or talents, to examine them with legal accuracy. The proofs of the existence of the thing, are given throughout, as the proofs of the Duke of York's knowing it. Nobody ever doubts of the existence of the thing—that there was a corrupt traffic carried on by Mrs. Clarke, and others. Of that we have evidence without end; even if it were necessary to ask for any other than that of Mrs. Clarke herself. There her evidence is conclusive; it is the very best that can be had in any case. But her testimony, which is the best for that purpose, namely, to prove her own practices, is altogether as bad, when applied to the other purpose, which is all however that we have to do with, of proving by her ipse dixit, that the Duke of York was privy to them. Upon this evidence, however, we are now required to come to that conclusion.

The other heads of charge in the cause are, comparatively with these, and as I think, in themselves, of so little magnitude, that though they have assumed a great consequence in the eyes of some gentlemen, I cannot bring myself to dwell upon them at much length. The moral part of the question, as it is called, is one, that many gentlemen think, ought of itself to call for the animadversion of the house. I certainly do not mean to set up a justification of that part of the royal personage's conduct; but not feeling that this is a matter on which the house is called upon to animadvert, I do not feel that I am setting up a justification of it, by endeavouring to dissuade the house from taking any cognizance of it. Something must, after all, be yielded to the general habits and manners of the world; and something also to the situation of persons placed in the rank of life of the royal Duke; who being deprived originally in marriage, of much of that free choice which is the happy privilege of persons in humbler stations, ought not, perhaps, to be called upon for an equally rigorous discharge of the duties attached to that state. There must be something, moreover, of general harmony and uniformity in the conduct both of individuals and of collective bodies, if they would wish either to gain credit for their motives, or to give authority to their example; or not to risk the exciting feelings of ridicule, where they are anxious to impress sentiments of deference and respect. I am afraid, that the present state of manners in this country will not admit well of a solemn resolution of the Mouse of Commons, to censure the Commander in Chief for keeping a mistress. If this were true in general, there is nothing to render the present instance an exception, so far at least as relates to those decent precautions and observances which, by preventing the evil example from becoming public, do away, it must be confessed, a considerable portion of the mischief. It appears by the evidence, that the Duke, in his visits to his mistress, preserved as much secrecy as it was easy for him to do. He never went in his carriage or on horseback; he never was attended but by one servant, and that servant always the same. If a Commander in Chief is to have I a mistress, one hardly knows how he should regulate his misconduct, so as to render it less injurious to the public morals. Those indeed, who urge this topic, hardly seem to consider it as a ground of charge which the house would have done right to take up originally, though they are willing now to treat it as a substantive charge. By the bulk of the house it seems only to be considered as a subject of animadversion, in as far as it has practically led to consequences injurious to the public service. These consequences are of two sorts; first, the injury done to the service by the adoption of recommendations likely, in many instances, to lead to improper appointments. Secondly, the scandal given to the service and the country, by the suspicion that appointments were to be so obtained. From the former of these the Duke of York stands, in a great measure, acquitted by the very evidence brought forward to condemn him; because Mrs. Clarke herself states throughout, that the recommendations which she delivered in could only expect to succeed on the supposition that there was, in the things themselves, nothing improper; nor do I know, that in the case produced, there is any in which this condition does not appear to have been observed, except one, which I will speak to presently. I do not mean, however, to justify that sort of influence, which seems here to have been permitted, even when guarded by the condition supposed to have been annexed to it; because there is often a wide difference, if I may so say, between what is not improper, and what is proper. The mistress might recommend a man to whom there was no formal or official objection, but who yet was very far from being the person whom the Commander in Chief ought to have selected. There was no greater abuse either in the army or in the whole service of the state, nor which led to more extensive consequences, but which was at the same time more inherent in the nature of things, and more impossible to be got at, than the abuse of patronage, in giving to favour what ought to be given only to merit. But he wished he could think that this was confined to commanders in chief's mistresses, and that in failure of theirs, other influences would not succeed, by which, in the allotment of promotions and preferments, merit would be quite as much disregarded. Would the influence of mem- bers of this house for instance be solely guided by the consideration of merit? Would the recommendations of fashionable ladies in the society of this town, be always directed to purer objects, or not sometimes to the very same, as those with which Mr. Donovan or captain Sandon supplied Mrs. Clarke?

Of persons chosen, or of things done at her recommendation, absolutely out of rule, and which could be described as being improper in themselves, he knew, as he had said, but of one or two. French's Levy, which occurred to him at the moment, as additional to the one to which he had before alluded, was a very bad case, and such as might well be suspected to have originated in influence like that of Mrs. Clarke's. He had been long acquainted with its merits, and had contributed possibly in no small degree to its downfall, by papers respecting it which he (or an hon. friend of his), had moved for in this house. Nor could he profess that he was satisfied with any of the explanations that had been offered; though, here again, he should say, that those explanations were not so insufficient, nor the vices of the measure so evident from the beginning, as to make the adoption of it impossible except for some unworthy and sinister purpose. The other case was of a different description, of a description indeed, peculiar to itself, and upon which, therefore, he should say a few words. It was the case so much insisted upon of Samuel Carter. There was no case in which the Duke of York lay so much at the mercy of his accusers, but upon which he might so much have hoped for that mercy, which however he certainly had not found. It was a case for which there was no defence, but for which, in every generous and liberal mind, he should have thought, there would have been all possible excuse. Was there a bad motive to be found in it from beginning to end? Mrs. Clarke had here none of those interested motives, which were apparent and were avowed in other instances. She had no money to make; no favourite to serve; no one whom she could wish to benefit but from motives that did her credit, and which belong to that part of character which is often found not to be lost when other virtues are no more. Had the Duke of York' any bad motive? A compliance with the wishes of a mistress is surely not criminal, where those wishes are such as would do no discredit to a woman the most virtu- ous. But the thing itself, it would be said, was wrong. It was an indignity and insult to the army, to put among its officers a person taken from the condition of a servant, and that too, a servant in the family of your mistress: a sentiment, which would probably in conversation be expressed in shorter and more forcible terms. The observation would be more just, if it could be added with truth, that such a principle had ever for a moment been avowed: but what is done clandestinely, and with a purpose of being for ever concealed, though it may be an injury, can hardly, even in propriety of language, be called an insult. As for the injury, it must here, as in every other instance, be estimated by the peculiar circumstances of the case; and who shall say, that there are not daily admitted into the army, and unavoidably admitted, persons more discordant from its character and manners, than (it might happen,) the person here in question? He is stated to have been well brought up, to have been well disposed: He was probably, though illegitimate, the son of an officer, and of an officer who had claims upon the service, and who, though too poor to educate this young man as his own son, had not so entirely neglected him, as not to have qualified him in some sort, for what fortune might do for him. While those who wish to depress him to the utmost, with a view of giving to the charge every thing that can be most invidious, are studiously characterizing him as a foot-boy, they are not aware, that what they mean as the greatest aggravation of the act, is in fact, a mitigation of it. To have been a foot-boy is much less than to have been a foot-man. The circumstance of the duration of the time is not a little; no one can be a foot-boy for very long. He will not be equally known to have been so, nor (which is not of less consequence,) will he be equally remembered. He will not be equally liable to be recognized, by his companions, walking into the parlours and drawing rooms of those houses, where he has formerly waited in the lobby. But what is still more important, he will not have been equally contaminated by the manners and habits of that condition of life. Every one has done and suffered in their youth without degradation, what would be disgraceful and intolerable at a more advanced period. The stains contracted in youth may be purged off and disappear before the boy becomes a man. The murk wears out of his mouth; and there is no reason not to believe, that, but for this unfortunate inquiry, and the very unnecessary and cruel manner in which the fact has been brought forth, the appointment of this young man would have been an act perfectly innocent as to its consequences, neither injuring any interest nor shocking any feeling, which persons most jealous of the honour of the army could have entertained. On the point just touched upon of the manner in which this fact had been brought out, it was impossible not to contrast the conduct of many gentlemen upon this occasion with their language respecting Miss Taylor. He had already said, that he disapproved many of the attempts made to discredit Miss Taylor, and to force into view circumstances of her history and family, which she had been naturally studious to conceal. But why did he disapprove these attempts? Because he thought that, while painful and injurious to her, they were unnecessary to the cause. But what shall be said, in this view, of the conduct pursued towards Mr. Samuel Carter? Was it less cruel and cutting to his feelings, an officer bearing his majesty's commission, to have these circumstances of his early life brought to light, for which certainly he was not blamable; and himself held out as a disgrace to his profession, and one, possibly thus branded, who may find it impossible to remain in it? Here is a pretty good attack upon his feelings and upon his interests into the bargain. And where is the necessity for it? Mrs. C. has expressly stated, that she entreated and stipulated, as far as she could, that Samuel Carter's Case should not be brought forward. The hon. mover therefore, if this assertion of Mrs. Clarke is not mere pretence and grimace, has not acted with much gratitude towards his witness and informant, even if he should be able to acquit himself upon the score of good faith. But what was the necessity of this for the interests of the cause? What is the necessity, compared with that which may justly be alleged in the case of Miss Taylor? Was not it charge enough against the Duke of York, if it could be fairly made out, that he had connived at the sale of his patronage, for the purpose of putting money into his mistress's pocket, but that you must take in, merely ad invidiam, and to excite against him the clamours of the army, and of those who had the honour of the army at heart, that, without any such base motive, and through mere compassion and kindness, he had bestowed a commission upon a person, whose condition of life, if known, would make the appointment highly offensive? But the importance of Miss Taylor's credit and evidence to the cause, was of another guise kind. She was the sole witness that came in aid of Mrs. Clarke, in that part of her testimony, which went to fix upon the Duke of York a privity to her corrupt dealings; and Mrs. Clarke, as that statement implies, and as he had largely discussed before, was the person upon whom the whole of the cause in that respect rested. It was of vital consequence therefore, that Miss Taylor's credit should be sifted to the bottom; and those gentlemen had a fair excuse to make, who in pursuit of that object, might have pushed their inquiries a few degrees beyond what was absolutely necessary. Yet we have all heard, how pathetic the lamentations were, which were poured forth over the sufferings of Miss Taylor, and how fierce the indignation was against those who were in any degree the cause of them, while in the same breasts, the most stoical apathy had prevailed towards the wounds, so unsparingly and wantonly inflicted on Mr. Carter, who seemed to be of no more account with the hon. gentlemen, than a mere stock or stone, forming a very fit weapon to be burled at the head of the Duke of York, but having no capacity of feeling or of being hurt himself. He should have liked a little more impartiality in the feelings as well as in the arguments of the honourable gentlemen alluded to.—It did not appear, though the fact might be otherwise, that this influence of Mrs. Clarke, however improperly admitted or by whatever causes put in motion, had produced any worse appointments or led to any more exceptionable arrangements, than might have been likely to happen had she been wholly out of the question. Except in the two cases referred to, viz. those of Carter and French's levy, there was nothing that seemed even to call for explanation. Still it would have been a great evil and scandal, if the Commander in Chief's mistress was to be the channel of application and favour, in whatever manner she might have used her influence. That she should never be allowed to open her lips upon such subjects, that no friend or connexion of her's should ever obtain through her means what he might have obtained at the recommendation of any one else, is a degree of strictness which it would be needless to require, because it is impossible to be hoped for. To exact it would only be to say in other words that no person having patronage to dispose of should ever keep a mistress: because as long as that evil should exist, the existence of influence to such an extent as was here supposed, could hardly fail to make part of it. That an opinion prevailed of an influence to a far greater extent being possessed and exercised by Mrs. Clarke, and that many persons, not likely to part with their money lightly, did advance considerable sums under that persuasion, was to him no convincing proof that the thing was true: because there was no folly so great, into which the love of gain and the greediness of pursuit did not betray even what are called sober people; as we saw daily in lotteries, and in the numerous bubbles, which are continually occurring: and because there is no opinion more prevalent, among certain classes of people, (judging, it may be presumed, from their own feelings and practices), than that there was not any thing of any sort which was not to be had for money. Of this we had had the most striking proofs in facts that had come out in the course of this very inquiry, but without making part of the cause itself. What could be more striking in this view, than the conduct of that wretched creature Beasley, who thought that he had nothing to do, but go with his money in his hand, and purchase a piece of church preferment from the Duke of Portland. If any one believes that these things are done, or any thing having the most distant resemblance to them, by persons, I won't say of the rank and character of the Duke of Portland, but having any claim to the character of a gentleman, and tilling any office of credit in the slate, he may believe that the prevalence of the opinion is an additional presumption of the reality of the thing; but otherwise, it tells only in the way in which he had cited it; namely, to show what the gross and foolish ideas are which are entertained upon this subject, even by persons from whom better might be expected. It was idle to say, that experience would soon teach them; that they would soon learn by the event, whether the methods which they employed were successful or not. In the first place, the persons were not necessarily the same; but if they were, how numerous had been the instances, at all times and on all subjects, practical as well as philosophical, where many had gone on upon a supposed experience, and had ima- gined a connexion between the effect produced and the means employed, which yet had no existence. Half the great delusions of the world were of no other character: they saw the fact and they supposed the cause. These people gave money to procure promotion: and promotion was often procured; but in many instances (as we had seen), because the applications were of a sort, which would have succeeded equally in any other hands. Still the man who had given the money would, for that very reason, and that he might not stand as a dupe in his own opinion, be willing, and even desirous, to believe, that it was his money that had done the business. But the most conclusive proof of the facility with which men delude themselves upon these subjects was, the fact which we had in the very cause before us, namely, that people went on in their applications and in their offers of money to Mrs. C., after her connection with the D. of Y. had ceased, and when her influence of consequence was at an end. The fact that the Duke of York had got another mistress, and the inference from thence that the former mistress would hardly retain much influence, were neither of them, one should think, so difficult, the one to be ascertained by inquiry, and the other by reasoning, as to have escaped those sagacious men, who, it is said, never lay out their money but upon good grounds; yet We see that, somehow or another, men Mere not wanting, whether sagacious or not he left to others to determine, who continued to place their hopes in, and to advance their money to Mrs. Clarke, when her means of serving them had become entirely extinct. We would no longer, therefore, lay any stress on the argument, that the influence must have existed, for that otherwise, men would not have gone on laying out their money in purchasing it. The probability was, that there was not a single man in office who had not some one about him who was selling every day the exercise of an influence over him, of which the principal had not the least perception.—Of this sort might very well be the influence supposed to be exercised by Mrs. Clarke, who though she actually had, he had no doubt, some influence, yet might very well by a dextrous management of her applications, by a judicious choice of her instances, by accommodating skilfully her language among her expectants, to what she could draw from her royal friend of the state of the fact, contrive to give to herself an appearance of ten times as much as she had, and to effect that, with the possession of some real influence, which so many accomplish without any at all.

The acts here supposed, as they apply directly to the question of the Duke of York's knowledge of what was passing, connect themselves naturally with another topic nearly akin to it, which he had forgot to introduce in its proper place, and which had been much agitated under the name of connivance. Many gentlemen had thought that a distinction could be taken between connivance and criminal connivance. He for one was not at all interested in such a distinction, because he was prepared to deny connivance altogether. He doubted indeed, whether the distinction could be successfully made. If the etymology of the word was to be our guide, it was as difficult to split a wink, as to split a hair: and if we were to follow the ordinary acceptation of it, the distinction became impossible, for connivance by the very force of the term was commonly made to include in it the idea of criminality. In that view to attempt to separate connivance from criminal connivance was to attempt to separate a thing from itself. But if nothing more was meant, than that men turned their eyes unwillingly to facts, the existence of which would give them pain, that they were slow to admit unwelcome truths, there was nothing more easily understood or more familiar to every man's observation and practice; not in cases only where no criminality existed, but where from the nature of the thing none could possibly be suspected. What cases were more familiar than those of persons resisting to the last moment the belief of misconduct in those near and dear to them? not because they wished well to that misconduct, not because they were desirous of its continuance, but on the contrary, because the existence and continuance of it was a subject of the greatest dread, was the greatest affliction that could befall them. Would any one say of such persons that this slowness of belief, this unwillingness to be convinced of the misconduct of their wives or sons, was criminal connivance, and that they were parties to these acts which they deprecated? Were people criminal parties to the dreadful maladies that threaten their own existence, because they shun inquiry into them, because they long disguise them to themselves and conceal them from others, because they dread to take opinions, for fear of what those opinions may discover to them?—a species of connivance, it was to be feared, to which numbers were daily falling victims, to whom, whatever else might be imputed to them, it would never certainly be imputed, that they were friends to the evils, which they thus avoided to acknowledge. A blindness of this description is very likely to have existed in the instance in question, and may account for much of that with which gentlemen seem to have been so much embarrassed, between the unwillingness of imputing to the royal person any thing so shocking as a wilful tolerance of such abuses, and the difficulty of believing that no suspicion of their existence ever entered his mind. A suspicion might very possibly have entered it, and have passed away, as such suspicions often do, without leaving any trace behind, or have been dismissed, as men do subjects that they are afraid to contemplate. We might surely allow to the Duke of York us much incredulity about Mrs. Clarke's infidelities in respect to bribes as about her infidelities of another sort. If he could be so blind as not to suspect her with Dowler, where suspicion might be expected to be pretty much awake, we surely have no right to presume that he must have been so vigilant and clear-sighted with respect to her transactions with Donovan and Sandon.

An observation of a contrary tendency had just occurred to him, which though not very important, nor occurring in its proper place, he did not care to omit.—Tn the endeavours to discredit Mrs. Clarke's testimony through the medium of instances in which she had evidently not spoken the truth, sufficient stress bad not been laid upon the circumstance of her evidence not being upon oath: nor, except by his learned friend, (Sir Samuel Hostility) had the effect of that circumstance being properly argued. It was not sufficient to say that if the parts of her evidence in which she departed from truth, (as where she denied having seen Dowler, &c.) were given not upon oath, so likewise were all the other; that the proportion of the credit due to her in the different parts of her testimony was in consequence the same, so that she, who in an evidence, not delivered on oath, spoke what was false in one part, was as little to be credited in another, as she, who forswore in one part, was to be believed oh her oath in another. This proportion did not hold good. It was obvious that it did not, by the common practice of life, without entering into the argument upon the subject. There were a thousand licensed deviations from truth by persons not speaking on oath, which did not in the smallest degree impeach the veracity of these persons, when speaking, though still not upon oath, on any grave or important occasion. The principle plainly was, that men when speaking not upon an oath, thought themselves authorized to exercise a discretion, founded on a consideration of the subject and of the circumstances, or of the degree in which a strict conformity to truth was exacted from them. A deviation in one part therefore implied no failure of that sense of duty, which should ensure veracity in another. 'On oath' on the contrary was understood, and meant, to have the effect of excluding all discretion. In evidence upon oath all deviations from truth were alike; omnia peccata erant paria. The common expression 'enough to swear by,' might be traced to that root—the consequence was, that he who swore false in any part of a testimony might justly be suspected of swearing false in every other. He who offended against the law in any part was guilty of the breach of the whole law. Mrs. Clarke's credit therefore in his opinion was not to be impeached, at least not materially so, in consequence of the deviations alluded to, as it would have been had she been speaking on oath—the grounds of his distrust (it was not necessary for him to say disbelief,) of his refusal to consider her evidence as conclusive, was, that she was not entitled to be believed on her own mere assertion, in circumstances where she had the strongest temptations to falsehood, and where she knew, that, say what she would, she was secure from all possibility of detection.

It did not occur to him, though many smaller points had, he was aware, been omitted, that there was any thing important with which it was necessary for him further to trouble the house, on this great division of the cause, viz. what was the opinion, which the house ought to form, of the guilt or innocence of the Duke of York in respect to participation or connivance. When he gave a decided negative to each of these charges, it still remained to be considered, agreeably to the principle for which he had strongly contended in the beginning, what it was fit for the house to do, in respect to the continuance of his royal highness in the high and confidential situation which he had held. Nothing was more clear than that the degree of proof necessary to convict a person of a crime, was far different from that which was sufficient for the re- moval of him from a situation of trust and confidence. The removal of persons from such situations, however painful to the persons removed, and so far partaking of the character of punishment, was often a matter merely optional, and which required no reason to be assigned; and even where reasons were necessary, or ought to be assigned, as in great public concerns, they were of a sort wholly different from those, which were required in cases of criminal judgment, that is to say, where, for alleged offences, pain or loss was inflicted on an individual, in violation of rights which he would otherwise have possessed. Who ever thought that a judicial process was necessary to induce this house to concur in an address, entreating his majesty, that he would remove ins ministers? It might be fit that ministers should he removed, not only without a crime proved, but without a crime alleged. Though he should dislike the case, it was impossible to deny, that ministers, with all the merit that men could possess, might become unfit for their offices, might be rendered incapable of serving the country, merely because the country, on grounds the most erroneous, had chosen to consider them so. He deprecated (no body more) the sacrificing any one to public opinion, nor should any thing induce him to do so, in a matter properly judicial. It was for this reason that he beheld with indignation the attempts made out of doors, raid countenanced, he was sorry to say, within doors likewise, to awe this house in the decision, which they were to give, by the threat of popular displeasure; that is to say, to set them, as judges, to try a question, and then tell them what verdict they were to give. If it was possible for any attempt to be more insulting and audacious; for any submission to be more degrading than another, it was the attempt thus made, and the submission thus expected, and which many gentlemen seemed to think was expected justly. He would not suppose that any instance of such a degrading and criminal acquiescence could exist, but if there did, it was certainly not to be looked for among those, who acquitted the Duke of York, but must be found, if at all, on the contrary side, and among those who were most inclined to vapour about their independence, and to talk of votes being given under an influence foreign from that of the merits of the question. This he said as applicable particularly to the judicial part of the question, by which he meant the judg- ment to be pronounced on the question of guilty or not guilty of connivance or participation; but a compliance with popular opinion merely as such, that is to say, as affecting the situation and interests of the person so complying, was hardly less base, to whatever part of the question it applied. When he talked of public opinion as deserving of any consideration, it was upon the grounds which he had staled, not as affecting the individual giving his judgment, but as applying to the subject on which the judgment was to be given. A great distinction must likewise be made, as to the nature and character of the public opinion supposed. Was it the mere cry of ignorance or malevolence; of wantonness or of faction; the clamour of persons having their own ends to answer, and not believing what they said; and of others, believing only because they wished the facts to be true, and were delighted with any thing which tended to lower the great to a level with themselves? Or did the opinion, in question, include in it much of the sound sense and sober discretion of the country, and proceed from persons not ill qualified to judge, nor likely to have their judgment warped by undue feelings and motives? If the public opinion was in any considerable degree of the latter description; as could not, he feared, be denied; attention was due to it, both on account of the persons themselves, and because, as the very statement implied, an opinion of that sort could not well exist, without some plausible grounds, that it was founded on truth. But, here again, a material question arose. Were the grounds, thus supposed, the mere combination of extraneous circumstances, or were they produced by the conduct of the party himself, acting improperly, though possibly not in a way really to merit the suspicious which he had excited? However hard it was that any one should fall a sacrifice to unjust suspicions, the hardship was less, and the danger to society less, when the suspicion was grounded on acts of the party, and those acts such as were in their own nature culpable. No one could claim from society the same protection against the consequences of his own misconduct, as was due to a person, who if not wholly guilty, was wholly innocent. This was the distinction which he had taken and acted upon in the case of a noble lord which had formerly fallen under the cognizance of that house. He declared at the time his persuasion, that the noble lord had not been guilty of the gross part of the charge: but he could not deny that ground was laid for the suspicion, by conduct of the noble lord which it was impossible to justify, namely, by the continued departure which he had permitted from the rule laid down in his own Act. Whatever therefore his own conviction might be, he could deny the justness of the suspicion on the part of those, who might have less opportunity of knowing the noble lord than he had: and to that suspicion so formed, so much deference was due, as in combination with the misconduct, which was admitted, warranted the judgment which the house pronounced, even in the view of those, who, like himself, might acquit the noble lord of the grosser part of that which the suspicion imputed to him. The suspicion was just, in respect to those who entertained it, though, it might not be just, in point of fact, in respect to the noble lord. The same reasoning was applicable to the present case. The royal personage must abide the consequences of such a connection as he had formed, and the opportunities which he had afforded to such a testimony as had been given against him. It was not fit that a person of his description and situation should be allowed with impunity to place himself in a slate in which suspicions of the most injurious nature could be entertained against him, by persons of good intentions and of reasonably sound and good judgment. 'Cæsar's wife ought not to be suspected.' While he was anxious, therefore, that the house should declare emphatically its disbelief of the accusations brought against his royal highness, he should hear, he must confess, with great delight, that no necessity-existed for any further opinion, but that the royal personage had of himself decided to quit a situation, which he could not hold, with satisfaction to himself, longer than while he could hold it to the general satisfaction of the country. Such a decision could not be construed as admitting in the smallest degree the truth of any thing that had been charged against him. Did it contain such an admission, he should find it impossible to recommend the adoption of it. If it was a submission to public opinion, it was not a submission of an unworthy sort, nor to those parts of public opinion, which were undeserving of consideration. Nothing could do more credit to the feelings of the country, nor at the same time show more strongly the general purity of the administration of its affairs, than the commotion excited by any thing that had the appearance even of a departure from that purity. It was a feeling, which one could not wish less, however the effects of it might be at times irregular, and productive of injustice in particular instances. A homage paid to such a feeling was no admission of the truth of its application in the particular case.—This was all with which he wished to trouble the house on the question itself.—A very few observations only, he was desirous to offer, in answer to some reflections which had been cast on the part taken in this business, by those with whom he had in general the pleasure to act. They were accused of having been slow to come forward, or to give to the hon. mover that support at the time, which they were now, it was said, eager to proffer when he no longer stood in need of their assistance. This accusation did not touch him personally, who had been absent at the time alluded to, having been detained, by circumstances, in the country till long after the charges had been fully adopted. He had nothing therefore to restrain him, so far as related to any former conduct or language of his, from declaring in favour of any course of proceeding, that he should now see fit: nor had he been backward certainly on other occasions to support unprotected accusers against powerful culprits, as in the case of the late unfriended and hardly-treated Mr. Paull, when accusing a Governor General of India. But with these dispositions, and exempt as he was from any necessity of declaring his opinion at all, he could not be easy not to say, that had he been present, his conduct would have been precisely the same as that of his hon. friends. What else could he have done than keep aloof from a charge, with the grounds and with the author of which he was equally unacquainted, and which certainly did not exhibit at the outset any thing so attractive, either as to the spirit in which it was conceived, the manner in which it was conducted, the success to which it was likely to lead, or the objects which it might be suspected to have ultimately in view, as that all to whom it was proposed must instantly fall in love with it, and rush impetuously to its support. In fact the cause, as known to the honourable mover at the time, was not such as many men would have chosen to engage in, whether their own credit or the interests of the public had been the principle to guide them. For it must never be forgotten, that the cause was now in a very different state from that in which it was originally contemplated by the hon. mover; and that the principal part of the evidence, by which it was now supported, was as little known to him, and could be as little anticipated by him, as it could be by the house. But the matter did not end here: If much was wanting, that was necessary to invite support; there was much on the other hand that must have the effect of repelling it. It did not tell greatly in favour of a cause, that it began by a breach of confidence, and that it owed the possession of the main part of its evidence, to an act of violence committed in a house, to which admission had been procured upon terms of apparent friendship. This Was the statement admitted, or not contradicted, by the party. Mrs. Clarke says, that the papers were taken from the table in her presence, but both without her consent and against her consent. If this protest of hers, made at the time, was mere pretence; if her resistance was merely feigned; if the whole was a sort of permitted rape; or a little love struggle pignusdereptum lacertis, aut digito male pertinaci, he should only observe, that it was not treating the house very respectfully, in a matter pretty important, if upon such grounds, they were to be made to believe, that Mrs. Clarke was an unwilling witness, and entitled to all the additional credit on one side, which such a character would give her. But if the facts really were as she stated, and as the honourable mover did not seem to deny, if the papers were in truth taken by him from her table, he entering the house as he did, and she protesting bonâ fide against the proceeding,—other gentlemen must think as they liked, but he must declare for his own part, that there was no one article of the charges, proved or unproved, which he would Hot rather confess to, than be guilty of the act so described. It was, at least, a pretty good reason why he should have been shy, as his hon. friends were accused of being, of mixing in a cause of which such an act stood in the front.

The right hon. gentleman concluded with observing, that if the motion of the Chancellor of the Exchequer was pressed, and that no other alternative was offered, he must perforce, though by no means satisfactorily to himself, vote for the Address proposed by the honourable gentleman on the floor (Mr. Bankes).

Lord Castlereagh

rose amidst a loud cry of "question! Question!" He said he should not, at that hour, intrude himself upon the attention of the house, but that he felt it his paramount duty to deliver his sentiments on a question of such magnitude, before the house should come to a decision upon it. The right hon. gentleman who had just sat down, to his surprise, had expressed his intention of voting, as he conceived, contrary to what his opinions would have led the house to suppose, and which would almost induce a belief that he did so to mislead the judgment of others. For his part he intended to oppose both Addresses; he dill not conceive it the proper mode to be adopted; he thought they should vote distinct resolutions, and then act upon those resolutions; and not adopt an Address in the first instance, which would imply that the Duke of York was guilty of criminal connivance at Mrs. Clarke's fraud. If, however, he were to give an opinion between the two Addresses, he should prefer the Address of the hon. mover, as conveying a more direct Resolution of the house. But, what was the case stated? It was said the Duke of York knew of Mrs. Clarke's practices, and if he knew of them he must be personally corrupt. Could any one suppose that he knew of her taking money for his patronage, and converting it to the purposes of housekeeping, and be content simply with his removal, without a desire to bring him to further trial s If the house really believed the Duke of York guilty of either knowing or suspecting that Mrs. Clarke received money for those Commissions, which he was charged with having granted at her interference, he could not see how it was possible to avoid pronouncing him corrupt. If he had known that such sums of money went to the support of the establishment in Gloucester-place, it would have been as corrupt as if he had put the money in his own pocket. The house was certainly competent to address his majesty as they should deem fit, but where the crime was so infamous, he could not reconcile it with fitness to the Constitution to find any person guilty during his absence. He could not conceive any thing which could bring so delicate a subject under his majesty's consideration in a more poignant shape than the course proposed by address, which must be rendered additionally poignant if the house were not inclined to act upon the recommendation of a constitutional trial upon this serious and very important question. His hon. friend (Mr. Bankes) had conceived that delicacy to the crown required rather that the Address should be worded in the manner he had proposed, than in the manner which had been originally proposed by the hon. mover (Mr. Wardle). He viewed, however, this point of delicacy in a very different light. What must be the feelings of his majesty if he should be informed that his son was still charged with corruption of the foulest kind, and that that son had not been beard in his defence? The noble lord then stated that he wished to take a view of the whole subject, which he would do in a brief manner. In considering the evidence upon which the question rested it was not immaterial to consider under what impule Mrs. Clarke came forward to give her evidence against the Duke of York. She came forward, evidently actuated by the most decided resentment and the most vindictive feelings: but at the same time represented herself as unwillingly coming forward to submit to the orders of the house. Mrs. Clarke's letters to Mr. Adam and colonel M'Mahon must prevent any one doubting the existence of malice. He did not mean to speak disrespectfully of the hon. member who had brought forward the present question, yet thought he had deviated much from the line of conduct which could be considered as desirable to be pursued, or congenial to the feelings of any hon. member. According to the evidence they found him, with more or less violence, possessing himself of certain documents; they found him at supper with Mrs. Clarke, with M'Callum, the professed libeller of the Duke of York, and with Mr. Corri; they found him thus devoting his time to fulfil his duty. Mrs. Clarke shewed herself a very reluctant witness indeed when, instead of waiting for Mr. Dowler paying her a visit, upon his arrival, she went to him to an hotel, for the purpose of (a laugh) arranging her future proceedings: this proved her a very reluctant witness. Two very different opinions appeared to be entertained on the other side, as to the credibility of Mrs. Clarke's testimony. One hon. member thought her evidence unworthy of credit, while a noble lord behind him considered it very credible; he was rather inclined to the opinion of the noble lord. It had been asked whether no part of her testimony was worthy of belief? He was ready to admit that he believed Mrs. Clarke bad spoken a great deal of truth (Hear, hear!) and yet he would not believe her in that which rested almost entirely on her assertion, the knowledge and privity of the Duke to her transactions. She had narrated her own transactions with considerably accuracy; and in that narration, which was also confirmed by documents, and other evidence, he thought she was worthy of belief, because she had no interest in speaking falsely. But when she came to assert that the Duke knew of her corrupt transactions, he would not believe her, because that was a thing easy of invention, which was incapable of direct contradiction, and to which she might well be supposed to be stimulated by her resentment. If she could have established the corruption of his royal highness in any one instance, he should then have believed she spoke the truth when she mentioned other instances. She had, however, proved no such thing, and no man's life or character would be safe if it depended on such testimony. When he believed her testimony, it was because a great part of it was a fair account of her illicit purpose, intended, as he firmly believed, to bring home her designs against the Duke. He begged the house to bear in mind how she to do it with respect to colonels Brooke, where her falsehood was completely discovered. It might be said to be more so, when she described a list of persons which was affixed two days to the bed-head; this was too extravagant for any one to believe. Then another part of her statement, was alike incredible, where she told them that the whole system was suggested by the Duke of York, to relieve her necessities, and that he told her she had more patronage than the queen. Then she endeavoured to establish her story by other sources, as in the case of major Tonyn, where she proved mistaken, and since the first day of her evidence, when she saw the likelihood of her being detected about dates, she had never recollected another date. He contended that she had been actuated through the whole of this system of fraudulent intrigue, by deliberate malice, and if such testimony as hers could be believed, the life and character of no person would be safe. He said it was not difficult to conceive that a deliberate conspiracy existed between three or four persons, at least between three, Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. Favery her half-sister, and Miss Taylor, whose evidence he conceived to have been well delineated by the last speaker. He asked, whether it was to be conceived for a moment, unless they considered the Duke of York destitute of common sense, that he would submit his character to the mercy of Miss Taylor. It was impossible to believe this, even from an unimpeached witness, which she was not. She recollected a something which happened three years ago, and, retaining that, forgot all others, as if she had been asleep ever since. Hence, he contended, that the whole of their testimony went for nothing; that it was to extort money, and originated in systematic deception. It appeared to him the most incredible thing on earth, if the Duke had really been conscious of any corrupt practices, such as had been imputed to him, that he should part from this woman in the manner he did, without making arrangements to induce her not to mention those transactions. It was incredible that he should have preferred an investigation like the present, attended with so many painful exposures, to a compromise with this woman, if he had not been perfectly conscious of innocence. The noble lord then proceeded to make some further observations on the evidence of Mrs. Clarke and Miss Taylor; and stated that he was decidedly of opinion, that the latter, in giving her evidence, was influenced by Mrs. Clarke, and ought not to be believed.—He then took a circumstantial and comprehensive view of the Duke of York's conduct, as to the dismissal of Mrs. Clarke, and contended, he would not have applied to the hon. and learned member (Mr. Adam) to employ Mr. Low ten and Mr. Wilkinson to investigate into her conduct, if he had not known himself to be perfectly innocent; he never had shrunk from any coercive menace she had threatened him with. He regretted that the letters from his royal highness to Mrs. Clarke had ever been written, but it shewed the purity of his motives, when writing them, that he did not afterwards wish to purchase them. As to the feeling of the army with respect to the Duke of York, he was convinced that no man ever enjoyed so completely their affections, and no man had ever done so much good to the British army. Under his administration every attention had been paid to the comforts of the soldier, and the character of the army had made rapid strides to perfection, and he should implore the house to consider rather the military charges against him, than the accusation of immorality. If even under the corrupt influence of Mrs. Clarke, he had never given any appointments that were not justified on strict military grounds, it must be supposed his future administration would be still more free from blame, now he had extricated himself from that influence and connection, and received a very severe lesson, from the evils it had occasioned, and the painful exposures which had been made. There was another point of view in which the subject was of the highest importance. His royal highness stood very near in the succession to the throne. If he should now be branded as a man unfit to be trusted in the service of his country, the same reason should go to induce Parliament to exercise their power in cutting off his succession; for how could a man, stained with infamy and corruption, command, or deserve the respect and affections of the people of this country? On that account he deprecated any condemnation by the House of Commons, but demanded, as he had undoubtedly the right to do, a trial by his Peers, in case the house should think there was a sufficient case to put him on his trial. Alluding to the Letter of his royal highness, presented to the house, he said it was that of an innocent man claiming that which is the birthright of every Englishman. It did not go farther than declaring his innocence, and protesting against being tried in his absence, and that on evidence not given on oath. Upon all these grounds he objected to both the Addresses, as going to brand the Duke of York with infamy, without allowing him the benefit of a trial by his Peers, under the usual sanction of the witnesses being sworn. It appeared to him that no case had been made out, which would justify such a proceeding in the house, and therefore life should vote for the Resolutions as moved by the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Lord Castlereagh

rose amidst aloud cry of "question! question!" He said he should not, at that hour, intrude himself upon the attention of the house, but that he felt it his paramount duty to deliver his sentiments on a question of such magnitude, before the house should come to a decision upon it. The right hon. gentleman who had just sat down, to his surprise, had expressed his intention of voting, as he conceived, contrary to what his opinions would have led the house to suppose, and which would almost induce a belief that he did so to mislead the judgment of others. For his part he intended to oppose both Addresses; he did not conceive it the proper mode to be adopted; he thought they should vote distinct resolutions, and then act upon those resolutions; and not adopt an Address in the first instance, which would imply that the Duke of York was guilty of criminal connivance at Mrs. Clarke's fraud. If, however, he wore to give an opinion between the two Addresses, he should prefer the Address of the hon. mover, as convening a more direct Resolution of the house. But, what was the case stated? It was said the Duke of York knew of Mrs. Clarke's practices, and if he knew of them be must be personally corrupt. Could any one suppose that he knew of her taking money for his patronage, and converting it to the purposes of housekeeping, and be content simply with his removal, without a desire to bring him to further trial? If the house really believed the Duke of York guilty of either knowing or suspecting that Mrs. Clarke received money for those Commissions, which he was charged with having granted at her interference, he could not see how it was possible to avoid pronouncing him corrupt. If he had known that such sums of money went to the support of the establishment in Gloucester-place, it would have been as corrupt as if he had put the money in his own pocket. The house was certainly competent to address his majesty as they should deem fit, but where the crime was so infamous, he could not reconcile it with fitness to the Constitution to find any person guilty during his absence. He could not conceive any thing which could bring so delicate a subject under his majesty's consideration in a more poignant shape than the course proposed by address, which must be rendered additionally poignant if the house were not inclined to act upon the recommendation of a constitutional trial upon this serious and very important question. His hon. friend (Mr. Bankes) had conceived that delicacy to the crown required rather that the Address should be worded in the manner he had proposed, than in the manner which had been originally proposed by the hon. mover (Mr. Wardle). He viewed, however, this point of delicacy in a very different light. What must be the feelings of his majesty if he should be informed that his son was still charged with corruption of the foulest kind, and that that son had not been heard in his defence? The noble lord then stated that he wished to take a view of the whole subject, which he would do in a brief manner. In considering the evidence upon which the question rested it was not imma- terial to consider under what impulse Mrs. Clarke came forward to give her evidence against the Duke of York. She came forward evidently actuated by the most decided resentment and the most vindictive feelings: but at the same time represented herself as unwillingly coming forward to submit to the orders of the house. Mrs. Clarke's letters to Mr. Adam and colonel M'Mahon must prevent any one doubting the existence of malice. He did not mean to speak disrespectfully of the hon. member who had brought forward the present question, yet thought he had deviated much from the line of conduct which could be considered as desirable to be pursued or congenial to the feelings of any hon. member. According to the evidence they found him, with more or less violence, possessing himself of certain documents; they found him at supper with Mrs. Clarke, with M'Callum, the professed libeller of the Duke of York, and with Mr. Corri; they found him thus devoting his time to fulfil his duty. Mrs. Clarke shewed herself a very reluctant witness indeed when, instead of waiting for Mr. Dowler paying her a visit, upon his arrival, she went to him to an hotel, for the purpose of (a laugh) arranging her future proceedings: this proved her a very reluctant witness. Two very different opinions appeared to be entertained on the other side, as to the credibility of Mrs. Clarke's testimony. One hon. member thought her evidence unworthy of credit, while a noble lord behind him considered it very credible: he was rather inclined to the opinion of the noble lord. It had been asked whether no part of her testimony was worthy of belief? He was ready to admit that he believed Mrs. Clarke had spoken a great deal of truth (Hear, hear!) and yet he would not believe her in that which rested almost entirely on her assertion, the knowledge and privity of the Duke to her transactions. She had narrated her own transactions with considerable accuracy; and in that narration, which was also confirmed by documents, and other evidence, bethought she was worthy of belief, because she had no interest in speaking falsely. But when she came to assert that the Duke knew of her corrupt transactions, he would not believe her, because that was a thing easy of invention, which was incapable of direct contradiction, and to which she might well be supposed to be stimulated by her resentment. If she could have established the corruption of his royal high- ness in any one instance, he should then have believed she spoke the truth when she mentioned other instances. She had, however, proved no such thing, and no man's life or character would be safe if it depended on such testimony. When he believed her testimony, it was because a great part of it was a fair account of her illicit purpose, intended, as he firmly, believed, to bring home her designs against the Duke. He begged the house to bear in mind how she wished to do it with respect to colonels Knight and Brooke, where her falsehood was completely discovered. It might be said to be more so, when she described a list of persons which was affixed two days to the bed-head; this was too extravagant for any one to believe. Then another part of her statement, was alike incredible, where she told them that the whole system was suggested by the Duke of York, to relieve her necessities, and that he told her she had more patronage than the queen. Then she endeavoured to establish her story by other sources, as in the case of major Tonyn, where she proved mistaken, and since the first day of her evidence, when she saw the likelihood of her being detected about dates, she had never recollected another dale. He contended that she had been actuated through the whole of this system of fraudulent intrigue, by deliberate malice, and if such testimony as hers could be believed, the life and character of no person would be safe. He said it was not difficult to conceive that a deliberate conspiracy existed between three or four per sons, at least between three, Mrs. Clarke, Mrs. Favery her half-sister, and Miss Taylor, whose evidence he conceived to have been well delineated by the last speaker. He asked, whether it was to be conceived for a moment, unless they considered the Duke of York destitute of common sense, that he would submit his character to the mercy of Miss Taylor. It was impossible to believe this, even from an unimpeached witness, which she was not. She recollected a something which happened three years ago, and, retaining that, forgot all others, as if she had been asleep ever since. Hence, he contended, that the whole of their testimony went for nothing; that it was to extort money, and originated in systematic deception. It appeared to him the most incredible thing on earth, if the Duke had really been conscious of any corrupt practices, such as had been imputed to him, that he should part from this wo- man in the manner he did, without making arrangements to induce her not to mention those transactions. It was incredible that he should have preferred an investigation like the present, attended with so many painful exposures, to a compromise with this woman, if he had not been perfectly conscious of innocence. The noble lord then proceeded to make some further observations on the evidence of Mrs. Clarke and Miss Taylor; and stated that he was decidedly of opinion, that the latter, in giving her evidence, was influenced by Mrs. Clarke, and ought not to be believed. He then took a circumstantial and comprehensive view of the Duke of York's conduct, as to the dismissal of Mrs. Clarke, and contended, he would not have applied to the hon. and learned member (Mr. Adam) to employ Mr. Low ten and Mr. Wilkinson to investigate into her conduct, if he had not known himself to be perfectly innocent; he never had shrunk from any coercive menace she had threatened him with. He regretted that the letters from his royal highness to Mrs. Clarke had ever been written, but it shewed the purity of his motives, when writing them, that he did not afterwards wish to purchase them. As to the feeling of the army with respect to the Duke of York, he was convinced that no man ever enjoyed so completely their affections, and no man had ever done so much good to the British army. Under his administration every attention had been paid to the comforts of the soldier, and the character of the army had made rapid strides to perfection, and he should implore the house to consider rather the military charges against him, than the accusation of immorality. If even under the corrupt influence of Mrs. Clarke, he had never given any appointments that were not justified on strict military grounds, it must be supposed his future administration would he still more free from blame, now he had extricated himself from that influence and connection, and received a very severe lesson, from the evils it had occasioned, and the painful exposures which had been made. There was another point of view in which the subject was of the highest importance. His royal highness stood very near in the succession to the throne. If he should now be branded as a man unfit to be trusted in the service of his country, the same reason should go to induce Parliament to exercise their power in cutting off his succession; for how could a man, stained with infamy and corruption, command, or deserve the respect and affections of the people of this country? On that account he deprecated any condemnation by the House of Commons, but demanded, as he had undoubtedly the right to do, a trial by his Peers, in case the house should think there was a sufficient case to put him on his trial. Alluding to the Letter of his royal highness, presented to the house, he said it was that of an innocent man claiming that which is the birthright of every Englishman. It did not go farther than declaring his innocence, and protesting against being tried in his absence, and that on evidence not given on oath. The clamour out of doors he hoped would never influence the House of Commons. The noble lord then drew a line of distinction between a representative and his constituents, and contended that it was not the duty of a member of that Legislative Body to attend to a popular outcry, but to judge from the facts and evidence before them. He concluded by observing, that the Amendment of the hon. gent., Mr. Bankes, went to send the Commander in Chief into the presence of his royal Father, and to tell him his son had been condemned by the House of Commons without a trial. He would ask them what must be the feelings of the parent not only as to his legitimate offspring in such a case, but also his feelings as the lawful parent and guardian of the constitution of this country, which denied not any person, however menial and depraved, a trial? He entreated them distinctly to say what were the charges against the Duke of York, not to say there was a little immorality there, or a little connivance here, if they could not come to a vote, that the noble personage had committed a crime. He begged of them to pause before they sent forward to the world, that the Commander in Chief should be dismissed from his high situation, without the concurrence of any other tribunal than their own authority. Upon all these grounds he objected to both the Addresses, as going to brand the Duke of York with infamy, without allowing him the benefit of a trial by his Peers, under the usual sanction of the witnesses being sworn. It appeared to him that no case had been made out, which would justify such a proceeding in the house, and therefore he should vote for the Resolutions as moved by his right hon. friend the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Mr. Calcraft

said, he knew the dreadful abyss into which his royal highness the Duke of York must fall, if he met with the condemnation of that house. He certainly felt for him very much; he felt also the highest respect and duty towards the family of this illustrious personage; but he could not forget that he had a paramount duty to fulfil to the house and the country; and he would, however disagreeable it might be to him, endeavour to discharge that duty so as to acquit himself to his conscience and country. The house were now on the point of coming to a decision, on a subject of the greatest magnitude and importance that had ever been submitted to their consideration, and they ought to decide in this case, as they would in another, on a fair, cool, and dispassionate view of the evidence, and give their verdict accordingly. The royal person who was the subject of the inquiry then before them, had unquestionably the advantage of all the most eminent legal abilities which that house contained, aided by his majesty's ministers, who, whatever he might in other respects think of them, had certainly defended the cause of the Duke of York in a zealous and able manner, and shewed what he must consider a biassed attention to the honour and character of the Commander in Chief. The Commander in Chief had all the advantage of party, for on his side was the ministers and their friends, the lawyers with one brilliant exception, the army, the advantages of his high rank, of his being the son of our king, and within two of the throne, the gratitude for fourteen years of favour, the friends that fourteen years of such extensive patronage had attached. Those the Commander in Chief had served were in his ranks; those who expected favours had no alternative but to support him, or sacrifice their expectations. On the other side, was his hon. friend, Mr. Wardle, with his case. What then had a member of Parliament to do, with a view to the discharge of his duty, but to look to the evidence? He had done so; and the result was, he believed the Duke guilty to the full extent. He believed Mrs. Clarke, Miss Taylor, Mr. Dowler, and above all, the documents that proved Kennett's case, and which gave a colour and key to the whole cause. There you saw into the Commander in Chiefs mind; there you saw under what circumstances, and what persons he recommended to official stations. There you saw, that for a corrupt purpose, he went out of his own office to recommend in another; and what then should have restrained him in his own? He laid great stress on the unrestrained communications the Duke made Mrs. Clarke of his own pecuniary distresses; indeed no less than three persons are employed by her to raise money for him, Comrie, French, and Town. How then, can his royal highness plead there was any disguise of her distresses, or the means she took to relieve them? particularly when in Kennett's case, you see by what motives the Duke is induced to ask official stations, and for what persons. But, above all, we have his Letters; if he could write thus, what restraint could have been expected in conversation? It is in vain to look for it. Their communications were unrestrained, and the Commander in Chief forgot his dignity and his duly. This house cannot save his character, but let them recollect they may lose their own. He fell himself induced to Speak on this subject to night, in consequence of what had fallen from the noble lord who had just sat down, as to the evidence of Mr. Dowler in particular. The noble lord had said, it was on his part, a conspiracy to aid and assist Mrs. Clarke in supporting the Charges brought forward against his royal highness. He (Mr. Calcraft) confessed he was astonished to hear the noble lord make such a charge.—A conspiracy! it was impossible. Mr. Dowler was abroad in the service of his country when the Charges were first introduced, and did not of his own accord come back to England, but was actually sent home with dispatches. It was therefore impossible he could conspire to aid charges, of the existence of which he was ignorant, till his arrival in England.

The hon. member then adverted to the Note on Tonyn's business, which he deemed to be a damning proof against the Commander in Chief. He was also of opinion that Miss Taylor's Evidence was clear and decisive against the Duke of York in the affair of French's Levy. At that late hour he would not waste the time of the house by entering into any detail, of the Evidence, which had been so fully dilated on by several of his hon. and learned friends. There were, nevertheless, one or two points be would beg leave, as briefly as possible, to touch upon. The noble lord had said that the Duke of York had never participated with Mrs. Clarke in any pecuniary transactions. He (Mr. Calcraft) was decidedly of opinion, that such parti- cipation had been proved. His royal highness had employed Mr. Connie, who was Mrs. Clarke's solicitor, to negociate, and raise a Loan for him; and for that purpose, referred him to his own man of business.—He had, without reserve, intrusted Mrs. Clarke with the disclosure of his distresses, and there was in his (Mr. Calcraft's) mind no doubt but she had as unreservedly informed him of her own.—He next took notice of the Duke of York's Letter to the house, through the medium of the Speaker, in which his royal highness had shewn, that he was very willing to accept their acquittance; but strongly deprecated their condemnation. They might forsooth hear, but not decide; they might acquit, but not condemn. He thought that Letter went, in a great degree, to question and deny the authority of the house, and as such, entrench on their privileges.—He felt the strongest objections in his own mind to it, when he first heard it read; and he was sorry he had not then expressed the sentiments of his mind; but seeing so many others, of far greater parliamentary knowledge and experience than he possessed, pass it by without notice, he had been awed into silence, and so had assented to its being permitted to lie on the table. But he hoped the offence of this Letter would not rest with the Commander in Chief; upon the heads of the ministers let this offence lie, for they were the authors of it; and let not any man in the house suffer a prejudice to rest upon his mind, against the accused, on account of this Letter.—A learned and esteemed friend of his, (Sir S. Romilly) had ably commented upon it; the noble lord had in vain endeavoured to shake the impression, as well he might. But, not daunted by this failure, the noble lord proceeded to attack Miss Taylor's Evidence, in the face of the support given last night to it by his own friend, the learned judge (Sir W. Grant), and had thus set himself up as the champion, against two of the greatest lawyers of our time. I leave the noble lord and his friend to settle their differences, and in the mean time, shall be satisfied, with the authority of the Master of the Rolls versus the noble lord. Much had been said about equal justice; he hoped it would be realised; but sure he was that in no other case but this, where the rank, of the accused was thus exalted, could such a struggle, such a protracted debate, have been made. Had it been the case of any of the hon. gentlemen op- posite, or any of their colleagues, what would have been their lot, long since? Dismissal!—However, he was glad an accused person was thus defended; and the victory over such a combination, which he anticipated, would greatly add to the triumph of truth. He would not wish to trespass on the time of the house; and should therefore conclude by saying, that he had endeavoured to make up his mind to vote in favour of the Address of the hon. gent. on the floor, (Mr. Bankes,) but he thought the circumstances against the Duke of York so strong, that he rather chose to adopt some Resolution that might be better and more closely adapted to meet the subject on which the house was to come to a decision. If no such Resolution should be hereafter proposed, he should prefer the original Address proposed by his honourable friend behind him (Mr. Wardle). He thought the house owed it to an accused person to speak plain: the country required it; and he did not like such words, as "could not have existed without exciting "suspicion." He liked plain, intelligible expressions, and had he been consulted, or had been to have brought forward the business, would have preferred two Resolutions. One, expressive of the corruption, the other of the necessity of immediate dismissal.—Had it not been so late, [three o'clock in the morning,] he should have gone more at large into the question, but contented himself with what he had said, and adopted most of what had been said by his hon. and noble friends who had preceded him on the same subject.—He blamed the ministers for not inquiring into the truth of major Hogan's assertions, and other reports which had circulated long since with the public, to the prejudice of the Commander in Chief, and for not giving such advice to the crown as was becoming their station; which might have saved the scandal and disgrace of these transactions.

Earl Temple

said, that on a question of such high importance, he could not think of giving a silent vote. He should therefore wish to give his reasons as concisely as possible for differing in opinion with his hon. friend who had just sat down; but at that late hour he would not trespass on the patience of the house, but would then move, That the house do adjourn. In doing this he hoped, nevertheless, the house would not be inclined to protract the debate, but would come to a speedy decision.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer

coincided in opinion with the noble lord as to the adjournment, and also in the hope that the house might be able to come to a decision of the first question at the close of the next day's debate, which had already been protracted to a very great length; but he must confess with a temperance in the discussion, and a patience in the attention, which no subject had ever before received.

Mr. Herbert

thought that when so many gentlemen had patiently been listened to while they gave their opinions at such length as to average two hours each, the country gentlemen, who would not perhaps take up quarters, where the others had consumed whole hours, should not be curtailed of an opportunity of speaking their sentiments.

Mr. Ponsonby

said, he should for one put in his claim to being heard on the subject; he hoped, however, that the house would be able to come to a decision of a parliamentary question at the close of the next day's debate, though there would certainly follow another on the order in which the ultimate decision of the house should take place.

The Chancellor of the Exchequer

concurred in this opinion.—Adjourned at half past three o'clock on Wednesday morning.