I WAS a by-stander this day, when your Lord­ship and the House of Lords decided the very important cause of Philip Thickness, appel­lant, and Peter Leigh and others, respondents, and though unconnected with the parties, and con­sequently uninterested in the event, I must own I was forcibly struck by a scene so novel and un­expected. I stood, my Lord, with silent awe, at the bar of that tribunal which I had ever been ac­customed to consider, as the last refuge of injured justice, I expected to hear a question of law, of infinite nicety, discussed with wisdom, and decided with integrity. Judge then, my Lord, my asto­nishment, when instead of that decency in debate, which ought to be observed even in the lowest court of justice, and which I had ever thought in a peculiar manner characteristic of the House of Lords, I saw proceedings which would have dis­graced a Polish diet! Yes, my Lord, in all my experience of courts of justice, I never saw Judges so avowedly corrupt, so indecently profligate as your Lordship and Lord Denbigh! Lord Cam­den delivered his opinion on the question, in an argument that will carry, to the latest times, his fame, and your disgrace.

[Page 50] Your Lordship, in answer to him, delivered your sentiments; I cannot call them an argument, be­cause there was nothing that resembled a chain of reasoning; and indeed your Lordship seemed more to rely on the letter you had received from Sir William De Grey, and the conversation you said you had with Sir Eardley Wilmot and Sir Stafford Smythe, than on any reasons you could advance in support of your decree. When Lord Camden, with a decency becoming the occasion, and the place in which he spoke, reminded your Lord­ship how improper it was for a Judge, deciding so nice and difficult a question of property in the highest tribunal of the kingdom, to talk of opini­ons of men, not Judges in that court, who had given their sentiments in private, probably without much consideration of the subject, most certainly without hearing the facts stated, and the question discussed by counsel, what treatment did he meet with? Lord Denbigh's attack upon him was the attack of a ruffian, hired to carry through a profligate measure by assassinating every man who should attempt opposition? Your Lordship's language was somewhat more decent; it was the language of ignorance, delivered with that inso­lence which a week and a vain man feels, confi­dent in a corrupt majority. Has your Lordship still to learn, that the opinion of a Judge, though delivered in the course of a cause in open court, and handed down in print, yet if it is on a point, not before him as a Judge, is never allowed to be cited even by counsel in argument? And wisely so established, my Lord, for the law of this country gives credit to the opinions of the Judges only on those points which are necessarily brought before them in the course of judicial proceedings. On [Page 51]these points, when they have heard the arguments of counsel, they decide, if erroneously, the injured party has his remedy by appeal, if corruptly and iniquitously, the decision of the Judge appears on the record, and he is amenable to his country's justice. Lordship ignorant that this is the law, or can your Lordship say, or will any other man say for you, that in the course of his attendance on courts of law, he ever before knew a private let­ter, and private conversation, adduced by a Judge, not as arguments furnishing reasons for an opinion, but as authorities in law, to warrant his decision? My Lord, I will defy your Lordship, with all your long list of advisers, from the hollow hearted Lord, who made you Chancellor, down to the lowest driveller who feeds your vanity with flattery, to say that such a sight was ever before exhibited in a court of justice. From the existence of courts of law in this island, no man, ever before this day, saw a private letter produced, read, and relied on as authority by a Judge, pronouncing judgment. Are the arguments of council mockery? Or are they supposed to suggest matter, to be weighed by those who are to decide. The judgment of your Lordship and the House of Peers this day was avowedly founded on the authorities of men, who had never heard the question discussed by counsel. If this mode of deciding is to prevail in courts of justice, arguments by counsel are needless. Your Lordship can decide without hearing them. No­thing more is requisite than for your Lordship to write a letter to some friend, his answer read in court by your Lordship will stand in the place both of authority and argument. Is this the way in which justice is to be dispensed to the subject, in the supreme tribunals of the country, the Chan­cery, and House of Lords.

[Page 52] O, seats of Talbot and of Hardwicke, from whence those great and god-like men, with pure hearts, and wisdom more than human, shed on this happy land the fragrant dews of justice, from whence the vanquished suitor was wont to retire satisfied, by the arguments he had heard, that he had been mistaken in his claim, how is your glory faded! The wretched thing, who now fills the place of your late bright inhabitants, attempts not to give reasons for his decisions; but tells the suitor, in plain terms, that he decides the cause on the authority of a letter from one of his friends, who had never heard the facts openly stated, or an argument from counsel on the subject. My Lord, were I to tell a man, bred up in the courts of Talbot and of Hardwicke, that a Chancellor of this country had decided a question on an exe­cutory devise, on the authority of a letter from Sir William De Grey, who had never heard an argu­ment on the question, he would tell me it was a LYE; it would be impossible to be true, it would be as repugnant to all ideas of a Chan­cellor's proceedings, as if I was to tell him, that on the first day of the term, I had seen the Chancellor carried round Westminster-Hall in Bacchanalian triumph, the train, mace, and purse born by three drunken trulls, picked out of a brandy shop at Temple-Bar. My Lord, men's minds are formed by what they have been accus­tomed to. Those who remember the polished manners and elegant arguments of former Chan­cellor's, are shocked at your Lordship's brutal de­cision. Sic volo, sic jubeo. My Lord, I do not use these expressions as merely similar to your Lord­ship's, I do aver that since your Lordship has had the custody of the great seal, I have heard [Page 53]you decide a question at law, argued by an emi­nent council, in these very words,—I am of a different opinion. I heard your Lordship decide in these words, I heard that very decision reversed as erroneous. My Lord, your Lordship's conduct is become too glaringly despicable. When the great seal had been taken from Lord Camden, for dar­ing to speak his sentiments in parliament, and the ever to be lamented Yorke had, by a virtuous death, atoned too severely for the weakness of an unguard­ed moment (for who can withstand the persuasion of Kings. when they become suitors) the gap was to be stopped. It was necessary that the office of Chancellor should be filled. Your Lordship was pitched upon by Lord Mansfield, as a man who being too weak to form opinions of his own, would pay implicit obedience to his dictates; and, in cha­racter of the great law officer, avow legal opinions, his patron might be unwilling to risque. This was the ground on which your Lordship was made Chancellor. The nation saw it, and lamented that an office of such infinite importance should be disposed of from such motives, and to such a man. For my Lord, do you think the world ever considered you as a lawyer. Those, who had at­tended Westminster-Hall, knew that your abilities as a man, and your knowledge as a lawyer, were below contempt. They knew that in the character of an advocate you had never got £.200 a year, in all the courts of Westminster taken together. They were astonished when you were made a Judge, but they were exasperated when you were made Chancellor. In the discharge of the duty of that office, they saw that your decisions were ever unsup­ported by argument, from hence they were led to sus­pect that your decrees were made by others. This [Page 54]they suspected, but they did not know it, till your Lordship, in the debate of this day, put the mat­ter beyond a doubt. You will say, perhaps, a Chan­cellor may ask the assistance of those whose judg­ment he esteems. True, my Lord, but let him call on them in the character of assessors, that they may hear the arguments of council, that they may be answerable for the doctrines they lay down, and that the suitor may know by whose opinion his pro­perty is bound. My Lord, this is your character drawn with more truth than by those sycophants who tell you that you are a greater Chancellor than Hardwicke, Talbot, or Camden! No man ever doubted about your head; the conduct of this day has fixed men's opinion of your heart. My Lord, it was a foul proceeding.

It was a black day's work, justice seemed in eclipse.

The suitor had seen with grief in what weak hands the great seal was entrusted, but when he saw that if your ignorance led you to decide erro­neously, a packed House of Peers might be brought together to sacrifice his property to your vanity, he was struck with horror. My Lord, the nation will not bear it, and after the scene of this day, your Lordship cannot hold the Great Seal.

P. S. When the decree was affirmed, there was not above five or six Lords in the House, besides Lord Camden, and the present Chancellor. Lord Paulet (to his honor be it recorded) moved to have the Judges called in. This motion was over-ruled, and he retired. It was the Duke of Chandois, Lord Denbigh, Lord Cathcart, and Lord Gallo­way, who took upon themselves to decide a nice [Page 55]question of law, which ought to have been argued with wisdom and discretion, but which was debated with passion, and decided by party zeal. In short, what raised the Chancellor, ruined the suitor— THE TIMES.

Note. When the House of Lords were met to hear the cause, a message was sent to Lord Mans­field by the Chancellor, to know if he would attend. But the Chancellor very well knew he would not attend. He knew that Lord Mansfield could not resist the arguments of Lord Camden, and that he must concur with him in reversing the decree. Lord Mansfield therefore staid in West­minster-Hall, to decide the property of twenty­five pounds, and neglected his duty to attend, where ten thousand pounds were at stake as well as the honor of the nation. He well knew the honest zeal of Lords Catchcart and Galloway, the villany of Lord Denbigh, and the folly of the cajoled Duke of Chandois, he knew that they would attend constantly, to take notes in order to form a determination they went into the House prepared for; namely, to affirm the decree, and do for Lord Mansfield what he durst not do himself.

Lord Mansfield's personal dislike to the suitor has long been well known. When he appeared at the bar of the King's Bench, to receive judg­ment for libelling Lord Orwell, Lord Mansfield jumped from the seat of justice, and with fury in his eyes, and an agitation of body conso­nant thereto, exclaimed—Commit him! Commit him! An indecency of behaviour which astonished the whole court.

Since writing the above, I have seen a letter from Sir William De Grey, in answer to one from [Page 56]the appellant, requesting to know, whether the letter read by your Lordship in the House of Peers, was read with his privity. Sir William De Grey's answer is in these words:

On this letter I shall make but one comment. Either Sir William De Grey's answer to the appel­lant contains an untruth, or your Lordship has practised, on the House of Peers, an imposition of the blackest dye.