It was therefore not possible for the minister to consult personally with this great man.  What, then, was he to do?  Through a sagacity that never failed him in these pursuits, he found out, in Mr. Benfield’s representative, his exact resemblance.  A specific attraction, by which he gravitates towards all such characters, soon brought our minister into a close connection with Mr. Benfield’s agent and attorney, that is, with the grand contractor, (whom I name to honor,) Mr. Richard Atkinson,—­a name that will be well remembered as long as the records of this House, as long as the records of the British Treasury, as long as the monumental debt of England, shall endure.

This gentleman, Sir, acts as attorney for Mr. Paul Benfield.  Every one who hears me is well acquainted with the sacred friendship and the steady mutual attachment that subsists between him and the present minister.  As many members as chose to attend in the first session of this Parliament can best tell their own feelings at the scenes which were then acted.  How much that honorable gentleman was consulted in the original frame and fabric of the bill, commonly called Mr. Pitt’s India Bill, is matter only of conjecture, though by no means difficult to divine.  But the public was an indignant witness of the ostentation with which the measure was made his own, and the authority with which he brought up clause after clause, to stuff and fatten the rankness of that corrupt act.  As fast as the clauses were brought up to the table, they were accepted.  No hesitation, no discussion.  They were received by the new minister, not with approbation, but with implicit submission.  The reformation may be estimated by seeing who was the reformer.  Paul Benfield’s associate and agent was held up to the world as legislator of Hindostan.  But it was necessary to authenticate the coalition between the men of intrigue in India and the minister of intrigue in England by a studied display of the power of this their connecting link.  Every trust, every honor, every distinction, was to be heaped upon him.  He was at once made a Director of the India Company, made an alderman of London, and to be made, if ministry could prevail, (and I am sorry to say how near, how very near, they were prevailing,) representative of the capital of this kingdom.  But to secure his services against all risk, he was brought in for a ministerial borough.  On his part, he was not wanting in zeal for the common cause.  His advertisements show his motives, and the merits upon which he stood.  For your minister, this worn-out veteran submitted to enter into the dusty field of the London contest; and you all remember that in the same virtuous cause he submitted to keep a sort of public office or counting-house, where the whole business of the last general election was managed.  It was openly managed by the direct agent and attorney of Benfield.  It was managed upon Indian principles and for an Indian interest.  This was the golden cup of abominations,—­this