short of stature, and remarkably shortnecked, he could not reach the hole made for the admission of the head, in the aukward and ugly instrument used in this mode of punishment; that the officers of justice, nevertheless, forced his head through the hole, and the poor wretch hung rather than walked as the pillory turned round; that previous to his being put in, he had deprecated the vengeance of the mob, and begged that mercy, which from their exasperation at his crime, and their want of considering the consequences of their cruelty, they seemed very little to bestow. That he soon grew black in the face, and the blood forced itself out of his nostrils, his eyes, and his ears. That the mob, nevertheless, attacked him and his fellow criminal with great fury. That the officers seeing his situation, opened the pillory, and the poor wretch fell down dead on the stand of the instrument. The other man, he understood, was likewise so maimed and hurt by what had been thrown at him, that he now lay without hope of

recovery.

Having stated this to the House, Mr. Burke proceeded to remark, that the Punishment of the Pillory had always struck him as a punishment of shame rather than of personal severity. In the present instance it had been rendered an instrument of death, and that of the worst kind, a death of torment. The crime for which the poor wretches had been condemned, was such as could scarcely be mentioned, much less defended or extenuated. The commission of sodomitical practices. A crime of all others the most detestable, because it tended to vitiate the morals of the whole community, and to defeat the first and chief end of society. The crime was however of all other crimes a crime of the most equivocal nature, and the most difficult to prove. When criminals convicted of sodomitical practices were sentenced to the pillory, they were adjudged that punishment with a view to expose them to public reproach and contempt, not to popular fury, assault and cruelty. To condemn to the pillory with any such ideas, would be to make it a capital punishment, and as much more severe than execution at Tyburn, as to die in torment, was more dreadful than momentary death, almost without sensation of pain. He submitted it, therefore, to the consideration of the House, whether, if the facts turned out as they were stated in the newspapers, and as he had reported them

to the House on newspaper authority, it would not be right to abolish the punishment of the pillory, since it was liable to such violent perversion, as to be rendered not the instrument of reproach and shame, but of death and murder. If no man would take the matter in hand, he would bring in a Bill for this purpose; he saw, however, a learned gentleman in the House, from whose high character and distinguished place, it was fair to infer that the matter would be much better lodged in his hands, and would be more properly conducted than it could be by him. He hoped that learned gentleman would take it up, and that the House, if the facts should turn out to be true, as he had mentioned, would direct the learned gentleman to proceed against those to whose neglect, or cruelty, the murder was ascribable.

The Attorney General complimented Mr. Burke on his having stated the matter to the House with those striking features of humanity which characterized his conduct on every occasion; he said, most certainly a tale of so extraordinary a nature merited the attention of that House in general, and his attention in particular. He should do the hon. gentleman the justice to pay immediate regard to what he had said, and though he had the utmost respect for the House, and should on every occasion most readily pay obedience to its commands, it did not strike his mind that their interference was necessary on the present occasion. If the facts were as the hon. gentleman had stated them to be, the matter immediately called for legal enquiry, in order to lead to a conviction and punishment of those who were guilty, and had been accessary to the murder. The judges who sentenced the men to the pillory, were clearly innocent of the guilt of their deaths, because, undoubtedly, they had done no more in condemning them to that punishment, than they were obliged to do by the laws now in being, and could have no idea that they were sentencing the criminals to a punishment that would affect their lives. There were two descriptions of persons who were the objects of punishment in the present case, those who by neglect of duty had suffered the criminal to be murdered, and such of the mob as were most immediately concerned in the murder, if they could be come at. It was unquestionably proper that offenders, guilty of such an atrocious crime, should be convinced that what they had done was within the reach of the laws

of the country, and that no men, however they might be misled by ill-judged indignation, would be suffered to commit such enormities with impunity. In doing this, however, proper care must be taken that in endeavouring to answer the ends of jus tice, injustice was not committed. It certainly was necessary for the officers appointed to put the sentence of the law in execution upon criminals, to do their duty with a certain degree of spirit. He should therefore first institute an enquiry in order to substantiate the facts, and then proceed regularly upon them. With regard to an alteration of the law as it stood, the hon. gentleman would give him leave to pause upon it a little, and before he took any step for that purpose to consult those more conversant with the nature of criminal punishments, than he was himself,

Sir Charles Bunbury, in confirmation of the perversion of the punishment of the pillory, stated the case of a man convicted of sodomitical practices at Bury, who had been recommended to mercy by the jury, and in whose favour application had been made to the judge who tried him. This man had been sentenced to the pillory, and having been a respectable housekeeper, had the greatest dread of that punishment, from a conviction that the populace would be so exasperated against him, that they would take his life. The man had stated his fears to him, and he had been the person who applied to the judge in the criminal's behalf." The judge was a very distinguished character, and a man of true benevolence, whose loss every man had lately had cause to lament, and whose name would always be remembered with respect. The judge had told him, that he thought the law required alteration, but as it stood, it was impossible for him to sentence the man to any other punishment. When this was reported to the prisoner, it threw him into despair, and so great was his dread of the pillory, that the night before the sentence was to be put in execution, he took poison. The next day, however, he was placed in the pillory, and as he had predicted, was so severely treated by the populace, that he died that night in gaol, and whether he died from the poison, or in consequence of his ill treatment from the mob, had never been ascertained.

Here the conversation dropped.

Debate in the Commons on the Malt Tax Bill-Private Breweries, &c.] April

12. Lord North presented the Tax Bill, enacting, that an additional duty be laid on malt, low wines and spirits, foreign wines, brandy, and rum, coals exported, advertisements, a duty on receipts for legacies, and a duty on licences to be taken out by persons dealing in coffee, tea, and chocolate. On the motion that it be read a second time,

Sir Charles Bunbury rose, and took a general review of the melancholy complexion of the public affairs. He compared the state, as situated at present, to a vessel at sea, tost to and fro in a violent storm. Those who had been appointed to pilot the ship, had, by a variety of instances, shewn their total incapacity to discharge the duties of their office. They had repeatedly avowed their own inability, and did not even pretend to be able to bring the ship safe into harbour. All they looked to was their own personal safety, and so far from attempting to direct the helm, they merely fastened to the handle of it, to prevent their being thrown overboard by the exasperated crew. So unwise, so dangerous, and so fatal in their consequences had been the measures pursued by these state pilots, that they had created universal dissatisfaction, disgust and despair. Their great measure, the American war, had reduced this country from a state of unexampled glory, to a state of wretchedness, of weakness, of adversity, and of contempt, almost beyond the idea of the most melancholy visionary. The consequences that stared us in the face had in the progress of the war escaped the notice of many gentlemen, who were now forced to witness the gloomy scene; there were, in that House, those who were jovial spirits, good companions, and friends of the bottle, who had carried a face of cheerfulness throughout the business, and if ever a qualm came across their minds, on a morning after a debauch, a dinner had silenced its impression, and the jolly evening had totally distanced all remembrance of it; there were others who were men of a melancholy turn, men who thought o' nights, and reviewed the business of each day, who had all along seen and dreaded the issue of that work, which appeared to them big with ruin. Of those possessed of this irritable frame of mind, he was one, and he had not only stood long since convinced of the errors of the past conduct of ministers, but he had more than once endeavoured to induce others to feel in the same manner.

A lively French writer had said, that the most melancholy quarter of an hour in the whole twenty-four, was that in which the reckoning was to be paid. This was the time in which the public were called on to discharge the tremendous reckoning incurred by the American war, and in order to do it, gentlemen were desired to impose burthens of the most galling kind on their constituents. It was now a moment when men naturally examined the items of the bill, and were led to ask themselves, whether in ordering the dishes which had composed their entertainment, they had not thoughtlessly given way to their capricious appetites, rather than consulted their sober reason, and ordered such matters only as their bodily health required. He would venture to say, that now men had risen from the feast, extravagant beyond all example as it had been, it had not proved salutary or satisfactory to any one that partook of it. The time of remedy had unfortunately been suffered to escape unused. He had objected to the bill of fare originally, and had stated his reasons for disapproving of the most expensive dishes. That very costly one, an army large beyond all examples, had been a particular object of his dislike. A large army to an Englishman was always disagreeable: a large army for no use was still more disgustful. What proof had they that the army, which had been voted, existed, but that most disagreeable of all proofs, the being called upon to pay them? What had that army done for the immense sums they had cost the public? What were they now doing? A short paragraph would comprehend the history of all their most memorable transactions. In 1778, the army evacuated Philadelphia; in 1779, they evacuated Rhode Island; in 1780, the army was-no man knew where, and doing, no man knew what. So that the idea of Mr. Bayes, which had hitherto been considered as a ludicrous one, was attempted to be seriously realized, namely, to keep a large army incog.

So disgusted and so exasperated at the rapid decline of the empire were some men, that in the hour of their displeasure they suffered themselves to be misled, and were inclined to ascribe the cause of the mortifying change of our condition to certain defects in the government itself, which only proceeded from a weak and unwise administration of that government. These men were, in the blindness of their zeal to recover their former prosperity, at

tempting to new model the constitution, that constitution, which from the days of his earliest infancy he had been taught to admire for the beauty of its structure, the fitness of its parts, and the uniformity and wisdom with which it was constructed and put together. That grand and noble edifice, the British constitution, was thought by some men to have lost a share of its ornaments, to have grown rotten with age, and to stand in need of repair. Let such zealots be cautious, that in their attempts to give it additional decoration, they did not deface its beauty, and destroy its splendid appearance. In supporting those beams which they thought were ready to give way, let them take care that they did not bring the old mansion over their heads. The edifice was, in his idea, not the less durable and strong, for the length of years that it had stood; it was of itself sufficiently noble; he wished, therefore, for one, that modern reformers would not rashly proceed in a business which might be fatal to themselves, and fatal to all who by birth-right were entitled to lodge in the mansion.

Sir Charles paid many ironical compliments to lord North for having, by the weight of his arguments, brought the whole nation to their senses, and to a thorough conviction of their sick and calamitous condition. His worthy friends on the other side of the House must, he said, excuse him, if much as he in general admired their eloquence, he thought that the opening speech of the noble lord, in proposing the taxes specified in the Bill then under consideration, had weighed down all their arguments, able and admirable as those arguments had frequently been during the course of the last five years. What they said, had undoubtedly been well said, but it served chiefly to amuse; what the noble lord had lately uttered, tended immediately to convince. He could not but consider their oratory respecting the American war, as pleasant and agreeable wine which passed through the body without leaving any proof of its having been swallowed. The noble lord's arguments, on the contrary, appeared to him to resemble medicinal draughts extracted from salutary drugs, which by rising in the stomach after they were taken, effectually reminded the patient of his disorder. That physician who declared the existence of the complaint, and made the declaration in such language as served to convince the sick of their malady, acted in the manner which

was most likely to open a way to recovery. The noble lord had told them, that the nation was in great exigency, that he must raise large sums to pay the interest of the loan, and that those sums must be raised by new taxes to be imposed on the people, and which, as the exigency was such as to demand an immediate supply of money, must be laid on the necessaries of life. This argument was of weight, it was an unanswerable proof of our distress, it carried conviction in it, it brought the jovial fellow to his recollection, and it made the melancholy, thinking man perfectly sure that he had all along been right in his gloomy reflections on the consequences that must ultimately attend the measures that had been adopted.

Sir Charles said further, that he had been born to the title of a gentleman, a title which he had hitherto thought a high honour, but which he began now to fear, he should have reason to lament had ever belonged to him, from the appearance that there was, that he should not much longer be able to live in that ránk in life which his birth had induced him to think he was intitled to hold. The forefathers of those whom the world called gentlemen, he was sure could have no idea, that this country in so short a time could possibly have been converted from a rich and flourishing, to a miserable, distressed, and despicable country; they could never have imagined that so much of the property they left their families, would have been taken away in taxes, or they would have all followed the maxim of Mr. Locke, and had their sons taught a trade, by which, in case of loss of fortune, they might be enabled to get their living. There was not now a single article or enjoyment of life which did not bring to the mind of every man in almost every hour of the day, a recollection of the distresses of the country, and the enormous burthen of the public taxes. Was he for an hour to forget the state we were reduced to, to feel a temporary cheerfulness, and sit at his case in his chair in his chamber, he was disturbed with the knock of the collector to demand the house tax. Was he to go into his stable, the sight of the jockey boys reminded him of the tax on servants. Was he to travel in a post-chaise, and look through the front window, the horses brought to his recollection the tax on travelling post. Even sleep would not drown the remembrance, for should he fall into a dose as the carriage passed along, he was awakened to a

full sense of the tax by the turnpike-man's demanding the check ticket. The turnpike-man was, in his idea, like the beadle, who stood with his staff at the church door, and said, as the people came in and went out of the church, "Pray remem ber the building of the church!" The turnpike-man, in like manner, by demanding the check ticket, seemed to say, "Pray remember the American war!" By the Bill which had just been read, still farther occasions to remind him of the misery of his country were suggested. If he drank any of the wholesome beverage of England, he could not swallow the salutary draught without thinking of the additional tax on malt. Wine, which had hitherto been said to drive away care, would now produce an opposite effect, and bring care with every glass which was lifted to the lip. In short, there was no end to the mementos of public distress, and the only way of stopping the recollection of them that he knew of, would be by a toast. As the ministers, he was aware, disliked long speeches, he would not make his much longer, but would end this part of it by suggesting a toast to his new friends, for so he must call them. The toast he meant to suggest, he begged most seriously to recommend to their attention, because it contained a maxim, which if fulfilled, would, he flattered himself, do them and their country more honour and more service than any other theoretical maxim which they could possibly reduce to practice; his toast was, "Peace with America," and to this he begged to add another; "A less army and a stronger fleet." These two toasts would not only inspire universal hilarity, but would, in fact, conduce more effectually to restore the national health of body and happiness of mind, than any recipe that could at present be prescribed.

Having gone through a general review of the state of affairs, and traced them to the present moment, sir Charles declared he had an objection to all taxes, and that from the manner in which the money arising from taxes had of late been employed, that natural objection had been considerably increased. Ministers employed the money taken out of the pockets of the people in that most horrid of all purposes, the spreading war and desolation, and the destruction of our fellow creatures; this, to any man possessing the proper feelings of humanity, and a due sense of religion, was a sufficient reason