1829.] and Liberty of the Press. 409 



in England^ whose solemn decision could suitably annul or confirm an 

 impeachment of his Grace, as prime ministei-, and that is the high court 

 of parliament. It is a maxim of our laws, that every man shall be tried 

 by his peers, or equals. The Duke of Wellington voluntarily puts him- 

 .self upon his trial ; but a jury in Westminster Hall are not his peers. 

 What can thci/ know about his designs to " overturn the throne, and 

 prostrate the laws and liberties of England ?" What can they know of 

 his " dishonesty," or want of " principle," in the policy he adopts ? 

 For it is to this the epithets apply ; it not being intended, we presume, 

 to establish by evidence on the part of his Grace, that he never picked a 

 pocket, or defrauded a creditor. We might go further, and ask, what 

 can they know of his pride, &c., but that it would look like mockery, to 

 suppose his Grace really means to contend no man in England shall dare 

 to say he is proud, whatever he may think. Lastly, (and this is not the 

 least important consideration for his Grace), does it value one straw, as 

 far as character is conceimed, whatever a jury may declare (supposing 

 they were every way qualified to decide upon the merits of his case), so 

 long as the law declares that truth itself is a libel ? In fact, and 

 ■with the observation we conclude, there is not a conceivable advantage 

 that can accrue to his Grace personally from this proceeding ; while 

 viewed in connexion with other proceedings, it must tend to create an 

 impression throughout the country, that the principles of his adminis- 

 tration are hostile to the liberty of the press. We avow this to be our 

 own impression ; we know it to be the general impression ; and there- 

 fore, while we can hold a pen, our firm but temperate and unqualified 

 opposition shall not be wanting to avert so signal a calamity. M. . 



MEMOEY, 



Spirit ! whate'er thou art that comest nightly. 

 Floating amid my dreams with looks of love. 

 And eyes that speak unutterable things. 

 And fair cheek tinted with a paly blush. 

 Fainter and softer than the blush of life — 

 Why dost thou mourn ? Can Sorrow find a home 

 In the immortal sphere which is thy dwelling ? 

 When the night comes, thou comest like the moon, 

 Pouring a still and melancholy light 

 Upon my troubled visions — like the ray 

 She pours upon the dark and stormy clouds 

 That rack along the solitary sky. 

 Why dost thou mourn ? On thy marmoreal brow 

 Sits the sad twilight of departed days. 

 And in thine eye a voiceless sorrow dwells, 

 The fixed, still glance of monumental grief. 

 Whose silence speaks for ever to the heart. — 

 Alas ! I know thee now. — Oh, Memory ! 

 Shadow of joys that never can return • 

 Leave me — and come no more ! 



M.M. Nm Series Vol. VIII. No. 46. 3G 



