She depones, that she has bought, at two different times, for my uncle Alexander Muir, at my desire, a copy of the first part, and a copy of the second part of the Rights of Man. Can you suppose, that if my intentions had been felonious, I would have introduced such writings into my own family? Can you imagine that I could have wished to involve, in the conflagration of my country, my nearest relations to whose property I may eventually succeed? Why is not Alexander Muir brought forward as a witness? Certain it is, that he was closely interrogated, before the inquisition held by Mr. Sheriff Honeyman. But the lord advocate says, that his feelings would not permit him to examine the uncle against the nephew. Wonderful humanity! Goodness ever to be remembered and extolled! But did not you, Sir, advise and direct the whole proceedings against me; and will you have the effrontery to maintain that Alexander Muir was not dragged like a felon from his own home, by the myrmidons of power, carried before your friend Honeyman, and that every art was employed to wring from him every domestic secret?

Speak then to us of your humanity-continue to speak to us of your feelings!

Fisher next depones, that I much pressed John Muir to purchase Paine's Works, that he was prevailed upon, and that she was sent accordingly to purchase them. Now you will hear the evidence of this man immediately, in express contradiction to this witness. She next tells you, that I advised another domestic, Wilson, my hair dresser, to purchase Paine's Works, and keep them in his shop, in order to enlighten the people, and you will hear Wilson immediately express himself far otherwise. She speaks of carrying some paper, which she thinks was a Declaration of Rights, to a printing office to be corrected. Every thing in her evidence is made to tally with the indictment; I am accused of circulating a paper, intituled a Declaration of Rights by the Friends of Reform in Paisley. And this respectable personage! so highly complimented by the Court, must likewise swear something concerning this. Yet her tenacious memory utterly fails her. She thinks she can only remember what the title was, but nothing more. She knows nothing of the substance of the writing; but her evidence is to give a colour to the allegation of my having circulated that paper from Paisley, and to furnish ground for insinuating, that-I myself was the author of it.

Gentlemen, the witness next swears to a fact which must rouse, as having domestics yourselves, your keenest indignation. Vigilant has this family spy been in the course of her duty. She tells you what books she has seen lying upon my table. Not contented with describing the title of the books, she must go more deeply; and she informs you, that she saw, in my house, a copy of Paine's writings upon fine paper, and one or two

copies upon coarse! Gentlemen, from this moment, lock up your libraries. If they are extensive, as you have heard mine is, there is no crime in the whole catalogue, of which, by the testimony of your own servants, you may not be found guilty. The possession of Plato, of Harrington, or of Hume, will mark you down for republicans. The misfortune of having the Alcoran of Mahomet will cause the shipwreck of your faith, and stigmatize you as the disciples of the conqueror of Mecca. Well do I congratulate the lord advocate of Scotland.-He has discovered a new region in the sphere of criminality.-He will not merely confine himself to a voyage of discovery; but, along with his associates, he will make many voyages to this fertile land, and return home loaded with many valuable cargoes. But seriousness becomes this place. Can it be believed, that in the close of the eighteenth century, that this night the servants of a man should be examined concerning what particular books he may have had in his house; and that the proof of the possession of particular books may ruin his reputation; sweep away his property; and deprive him of his life?

Let us proceed with this witness. If you possess the common feelings of men, every sentiment of indignation must be excited, not against her-she is to be pitied-her task has been a dreadful one ;-but against the manner in which this crime of sedition has been attempted to be proved.

The libel charges me with feloniously circulating a Dialogue betwixt the Governors and the Governed, extracted from the Ruins of Volney. This dialogue is narrated in the indictment, and it is charged to be felonious and seditious. There is not a word in this dialogue which is not true. Alas! in colours but too faithful, it delineates the mournful history of 6,000 years;-the crimes of despots, and the artifices of impostors, to subjugate, and to blind the people. It is purely abstracted. It is entirely speculative. To no particular nation, much less to England, does it allude; if to any, it must be to France, under the ancient system. Yet, this dialogue is libelled as seditious and inflammatory. The truth is, the crime of sedition must be brought home against me; and the possession of any book, as well as that of Volney, must be employed to substantiate it. Let us hear what the witness says concerning the felonious circulation. She heard me read it in the presence of my mother, sister, and some other people; that I said it was very clever, and done by Velnew, one of the first wits in France. Who were those other people who were in company with my mother and sister when I read it? Her accuracy, so much extolled by the Court, totally fails her. But the propagation of sedition must not be confined to a mother and a sister; it must have a wider range; other people present! and founding upon his beloved generality, the prosecutor

has reason to argue, there might have been a full company, a numerous meeting,-nay, an immense congregation.

You have heard the testimony of Fisher, and these are the arts, and of this class are the witnesses, by which I am to fall. By receiving such testimony, you for ever destroy domestic society, and you blast the blossoms of family confidence; you render all suspicious of all; each relation, to behold in each, a deadly foe. And is it not sufficient to weep over public calamities, that widespreading desolation, which, at present, passes over the nations; but when we retire to our own homes, we must be obliged to confine ourselves in a dismal solitude, guarded by suspicion and by danger, where no kindred affections can enter, and where no reciprocal consolation can be admitted?

I hasten over the evidence of the remaining witnesses against me. I am overcome by the exertions of this day; and you must be greatly exhausted.

The next is the evidence of Thomas Wilson, my hair-dresser, and he is brought to bring up the rear of Fisher's testimony. He depones, that I asked him if he had bought Paine's Works, and that I advised him to get a copy of them, as a barber's shop was a good place to read in. Does this confirm the testimony of Fisher, who says, I desired him to buy that work, and to keep it in his shop, in order to enlighten the people? Mark the art of Fisher. How strongly she paints what might seem to strike against me-to enlighten the people! But does Wilson concur in this? No. Wilson-the person who should have best remembered-the person to whom the words were addressed,—Wilson tells you, that he bought a copy of the Address to the Addressers; but that was not by my advice. He even recollects the levity of conversation. An old man, from the country, came in while he was dressing me; he remembers me saying, that this old man was a great reformer. If I ever said so, I wish it may not have been in jest, but in earnest; and that the fact, with regard to the man, was true. For I know of none who should be greater reformers of themselves and of others, than those who are standing on the brink of the grave, and panting upon eternity. But I am afraid that this witness remembers only a piece of unmeaning gaiety. For he adds, the old man said I was only taunting him.

The conclusion of the evidence of Wilson affords me high consolation. It is a proof of the innocency of my private life, in moments when I could not possibly think of the affectation of integrity. He swears, that he has always heard me say, that I would maintain the constitution, and that I wished for peace, and good order, and good morals among the people; and that he never heard me speak against the king.

The next testimony is that of John Muir. He tells you, that he had a conversation with

me in September last, about Paine's book, in my father's house; that he asked the loan of it from me; that I told him I had it not. Does this resemble the conduct of a man accused of distributing these books to all and sundry, and scattering them over every portion of the land? He says, I mentioned that I would send a servant who would get it for him; that a servant girl accordingly went and got it. Does not this completely confute the testimony of Fisher, who affirms, that I much pressed this man to purchase that book? and he tells you, that he himself asked the loan

of it.

Is not this a complete contradiction of her testimony?

The next witness is John Barclay, that old and venerable person, whom you saw adduced as a witness by the prosecutor; and what does he say in his testimony? That we were elders in the same parish-the parish of Calder, in which the lands of my father are situated. He informs you, that at the last election of a minister for that parish, a dispute had arisen concerning the right of election, and that he voted upon the same side of the question with myself. This introduced acquaintance, and acquaintance produced friendship. The lord advocate, in speaking of this virtuous and venerable old man, exclaimed with insolent contempt, Such men as these are the companions, and such men as these are the friends of Mr. Muir! Yes, I tell the lord advocate, I tell the aristocracy of Scotland, I glory more in the friendship of such an old, poor, and virtuous man, than in the friendship of the highest-titled peer, who derives the source of his guilty grandeur from the calamities of the people; who wrings out a splendid, but a miserable revenue from their sorrow and distress, from their tears and from their blood, which he squanders in dissipation, to the ruin of private virtue, and to the contamination of public morals.

Let us see then what Mr. Barclay says against me. That he asked my opinion concerning Paine's books, and that I told him he might purchase them if he chose, as they were printed; but that I afterwards said, it was not a book for us. Does Mr. Barclay's evidence support the criminal charge in the libel, of my advising people to read seditious books, and of my circulating them over the country? Does not Mr. Barclay's evidence corroborate the testimony of every other witness? That for the reasons which I fully explained, I never recommended Mr. Paine's Works; but that even when that work excited the greatest attention of the country; when mention of it was introduced into every company, and into every conversation, I uniformly expressed myself that it was not a book for our purpose; for our purpose, who were engaged in the cause of a parliamentary and constitutional reform! Is there a single witness brought forward by the prosecutor, who has, in the smallest degree, stated any

conversation of mine which was unconstitutional? Hear what Mr. Barclay says;--that he was frequently with Mr. Muir, and in his library, from which he borrowed some books; that he had many conversations with him, and heard him say, that the constitution of this country was an excellent one; that he praised the king; and that he always spoke of order, regularity, and obedience to the ruling powers. In short, gentlemen, all and each of the witnesses for the prosecutor use the same uniform language, attest that, neither in public nor in private, ever a single expression dropped from me, which the most violent associator could construe into guilt.

The last witness of whom I shall take notice, is William Muir; the person whose religious principles at first induced him rather to suffer, according to the elegant expression of the lord advocate, eternal imprisonment than to take the oath, until his scruples were removed by the rev. Mr. Dunn. He swears, that in my father's house, at Huntershill, I gave him eleven numbers of the Patriot, and a copy of the Political Progress. From these numbers of the Patriot, several passages are quoted in the indictment. Of the Political Progress, there is no mention made; and I maintain, that every passage in the Patriot, quoted in the libel, is highly constitutional. The sentiments advanced in them, may not sound musically sweet to the ears of corruption. They call upon you to arise and vindicate the purity of your constitution; to vindicate your long-lost rights; and, if my feeble voice could extend to the remotest corners of Scotland, I should resound the same sentiment, in the same language. These numbers of the Patriot, speak to you concerning septennial parliaments. And I say to you, that the act which converted triennial parliaments into septennial, violated our holy constitution, tore the charter of our national liberties, and paved the way for the inroads of a frightful despotism.

But this witness concurs with all the preceding witnesses, with regard to my conduct and to my principles. He swears, That he does not remember to have heard me speak against government; that I did not advise unconstitutional measures; and that he heard me tell how Old Sarum was represented. Old Sarum represented! And, do not the friends of the constitution weep, and do not the enemies of the constitution smile, when they hear of such representation?

Before I speak to the third article of accusation, the reading in the convention the address of the society of United Irishmen in Dublin, permit me to make one observation, on the manner in which the prosecutor spoke of the papers found in my custody. Do they correspond with the view which he presented of them? Are they the documents of correspondence with foreign or internal foes? And supposing I had involved myself in a correspondence of that nature, do you believe I

could be so infatuated as to retain in my possession, that which must have been attended with, to me, certain destruction? Among my papers, there is not one which can be construed into guilt. They consist of pamphlets unconnected with the politics of the day; and of the various publications of a society, pure and untainted in its principles, of which I have the honour to be a member. But every thing must be ransacked to heap crimination upon my head. One of the letters which I had undertaken to deliver in Scotland, is addressed to the reverend Fyshe Palmer. Mark! cries the lord advocate, the company which this man keeps.-Who is Mr. Palmer?-A person whom I have indicted for sedition, and who is to be tried in a few days at Perth!-Unheard-of cruelty!-Unexampled insolence!-What! Before this Court, this jury, this audience, do you attempt to prejudicate and condemn Mr. Palmer, in his absence, undefended, and without any possibility of defending himself? But, exclaims the lord advocate,-The seal upon the letter is a proof of the most atrocious guilt. What is it?-Horrible to tell! It is the Cap of Liberty, supported upon a spear, with the words ça ira above. All is consistent. When you attempt to banish the substance of freedom--the shadow must follow! When a new coinage takes place, you have given a most excellent hint. The officers of the mint will profit by the lesson, and they will no more scatter sedition through the land, by impressing upon our halfpennies the figure of Britannia with a spear in her hand, mounted with the Cap of Liberty. But I am ashamed to enter into such trifles. If that letter had contained proofs of sedition, or of treason against me, Mr. Palmer, or the writer of it-the seal-and the spear-and the Cap of Liberty, would have been its feeblest protection.

Gentlemen, I now come to the last charge: That of having read, in the convention of delegates, the Address from the society of United Irishmen in Dublin.

I admit the fact, and I glory in the admission. The prosecutor has represented that society, as a gang of mean and nefarious conspirators; and their diploma of my admission into their number, as an aggravation of my crime. Let me tell the lord advocate of Scotland, that society stands too high to be affected by his invective, or to require the aid of my defence. I am a member of that society; and, in the last moments of my life, to have been so shall be my honour and my pride. The lord advocate has represented to you, in general terms, that this address amounts almost to treason; but he durst not attempt to point out, in his speech, a single passage which could support the aspersion. I maintain that every line of that address is strictly constitutional. You must carry the whole of it along with you into your chamber, and not judge of passages scandalously mu

manity, he will display himself upon that occasion, the firm, the intrepid, and I hope, the successful champion of the liberties of his native country.*

I hasten to a conclusion. Much yet remains to say. But after, upon my part, the unremitted exertions of sixteen hours, I feel myself nearly exhausted.

Look once more, I entreat you, to the indictment, and compare it with the evidence.

The first charge against me is, that in public speeches, I vilified the king and constitution. All the witnesses adduced attest, that, both in public and in private, even in my most unguarded moments, my language was always respectful to the king, and that I always recommended the constitution.

The second charge against me is, that of advising the people to read seditious books, and of distributing inflammatory publications among them and you hear it proved, by the unanimous voice of all the witnesses for the Crown, that I refused to recommend any books, and that the only one which I recommended, was Dr. Henry's History of England. You will not forget the circumstances in which I lent Freeland a copy of Mr. Paine's Works; nor will you forget the manner in which the writings of that man were introduced in conversation with Wilson, Muir, and with Barclay. With regard to other books and pamphlets mentioned in the libel, there is not any proof. William Muir has deponed, that I gave him one or two numbers of the Patriot, and some other pamphlets, whose titles I cannot remember. William Muir is but a single witness to this fact; and you know that, by the laws of Scotland, the testimony of a single witness cannot claim any weight; but I frankly admit and acknowledge, that I gave him those numbers of the Patriot, and, if I were not now entirely overcome by fatigue, I could demonstrate to you, that, in those numbers, there is not a single sentiment unconstitutional or seditious.

I am accused of reading the Irish Address in the Convention, and of moving a solemn answer in return. That address is neither seditious, wicked, nor inflammatory. There is not a sentence in it, which I have not defended in your presence.

You neither can do justice to me, nor to the country, if you condemn these different publications, upon account of the scandalously mutilated extracts from them in the libel. You must carry the whole of them along with you from this place. It is not upon detached passages you are to judge, but you must decide upon the whole.

Gentlemen of the Jury;-This is now perhaps the last time that I shall address my country. I have explored the tenor of my past life. Nothing shall tear from me the re

* With respect to the imputation on Mr. Rowan here alluded to, see Margarot's defence on his trial, in this volume-post.

cord of my departed days. The enemies of reform have scrutinized, in a manner hitherto unexampled in Scotland, every action I may have performed, every word I may have uttered.-Of crimes, most foul and horrible, have I been accused. Of attempting to rear the standard of civil war, and to plunge this land in blood, and to cover this land with desolation. At every step, as the evidence of the Crown advanced, my innocency has brightened. So far from inflaming the minds of men to sedition and outrage-all the witnesses have concurred, that my only anxiety was, to impress upon them the necessity of peace, of good order, and of good morals. What then has been my crime? Not the lending to a relation a copy of Mr. Paine's Works; not the giving away to another a few numbers of an innocent and constitutional publication; but, for having dared to be, according to the measure of my feeble abilities, a strenuous and active advocate for an equal representation of the people in the House of the people;-for having dared to attempt to accomplish a measure, by legal means, which was to diminish the weight of their taxes, and to put an end to the profusion of their blood. From my infancy to this moment, I have devoted myself to the cause of the people. It is a good cause.-It shall ultimately prevail.-It shall finally triumph, Say, then, openly, in your verdict, if you do condemn me, which I presume you will not,-That it is for my attachment to this cause alone, and not for those vain and wretched pretexts, stated in the indictment, intended only to colour and disguise the real motives of my accusation. The time will come, when men must stand or fall by their actions; when all human pageantry shall cease; when the hearts of all shall be laid open. If you regard your most important interests-if you wish that your conscience should whisper to you words of consolation, or speak to you in the terrible language of remorse-weigh well the verdict you are to pronounce. As for me, I am careless and indifferent to my fate. Í can look danger, and I can look death in the face, for I am shielded by the consciousness of my own rectitude. I may be condemned to languish in the recesses of a dungeon-I may be doomed to ascend the scaffold-Nothing can deprive me of the recollection of the past-Nothing can destroy my inward peace of mind, arising from the remembrance of having discharged my duty.

[When Mr. Muir sat down, an unanimous

burst of applause was expressed by the audience.

When the acclamations had ceased, he arose and said;]

I have omitted to take notice of the evidence adduced upon my part. I am not going to detain you a moment longer.-To you I leave the import of the whole of that evidence,