for a moment from your Lordships this universal voice
of Bengal, as an attestation in Mr. Hastings’s
favor, and we shall produce it as a part of our evidence.
Oh, my Lords, consider the situation of a people who
are forced to mix their praises with their groans,
who are forced to sign, with hands which have been
in torture, and with the thumb-screws but just taken
from them, an attestation in favor of the person from
whom all their sufferings have been derived!
When we prove to you the things that we shall prove,
this will, I hope, give your Lordships a full, conclusive,
and satisfactory proof of the misery to which these
people have been reduced. You will see before
you, what is so well expressed by one of our poets
as the homage of tyrants, “that homage with
the mouth which the heart would fain deny, but dares
not.” Mr. Hastings has received that homage,
and that homage we mean to present to your Lordships:
we mean to present it, because it will show your Lordships
clearly, that, after Mr. Hastings has ransacked Bengal
from one end to the other, and has used all the power
which he derives from having every friend and every
dependant of his in every office from one end of that
government to the other, he has not, in all those
panegyrics, those fine high-flown Eastern encomiums,
got one word of refutation or one word of evidence
against any charge whatever which we produce against
him. Every one knows, that, in the course of
criminal trials, when no evidence of alibi can
be brought, when all the arts of the Old Bailey are
exhausted, the last thing produced is evidence to
character. His cause, therefore, is gone, when,
having ransacked Bengal, he has nothing to say for
his conduct, and at length appeals to his character.
In those little papers which are given us of our proceedings
in our criminal courts, it is always an omen of what
is to follow: after the evidence of a murder,
a forgery, or robbery, it ends in his character:
“He has an admirable character; I have known
him from a boy; he is wonderfully good; he is the best
of men; I would trust him with untold gold”:
and immediately follows, “Guilty,—Death.”
This is the way in which, in our courts, character
is generally followed by sentence. The practice
is not modern. Undoubtedly Mr. Hastings has the
example of criminals of high antiquity; for Caius
Verres, Antonius, and every other man who has been
famous for the pillage and destruction of provinces,
never failed to bring before their judges the attestations
of the injured to their character. Voltaire says,
“Les bons mots sont toujours redits.”
A similar occasion has here produced a similar conduct.
He has got just the same character as Caius Verres
got in another cause; and the laudationes, which
your Lordships know always followed, to save trouble,
we mean ourselves to give your Lordships; we mean
to give them with this strong presumption of guilt,
that in all this panegyric there is not one word of
defence to a single article of charge; they are mere