Mr. Cobbett's former calumnies respecting the English settlements in the Illinois were amply refuted by Mr. Birkbeck and my brother, in two pamphlets, published in 1819, and to neither of which, although he has alluded to a private letter, since written by the former, and inserted in a provincial paper, has he dared to reply. He has however, had the effrontery in a late Register, (July, 7th, 1821,) not only to repeat those calumnies, but to invent others still more atrocious; and as the parties concerned are five thousand miles distant, I deem it my duty on the present occasion, to add a few observations to those of my brother, that the character of the calumniator may appear in its true colours, and that my countrymen may no longer be the dupes of a man who has so frequently deceived them.
This writer has in his rage against the settlements at the Illinois, not only shewn his usual disregard of truth and decency, but thrown off the common feelings of humanity. Yes!—This marble-hearted reprobate has impiously dared to reproach an affectionate,—a peculiarly warm-hearted father with the death of a favourite son. Addressing himself to Mr. Birkbeck, he states as follows:—"As to English farmers, yours, or any like yours, is the very worst spot they can go to." Of the falsehood of this assertion, the reader has before him demonstrative evidence. Then, alluding to Mr. William Hunt and his qualifications for farming, the writer adds:—"With great sorrow I heard of his untimely end, from one of those terrible fevers that never fail to haunt new settlements for years. One of Mr. Flower's sons is dead also, in the bloom of life. Now, had Mr. F. followed my advice given him at New York; if he had purchased a farm or two on the Atlantic side, this son would in all probability have been alive!" {69} To this atrocious paragraph I reply:—It is false that "terrible fevers haunt the English settlements" more than is common in either England or America. I am well acquainted with some who were born, and had previous to their emigration, lived in one of the finest counties in England, Devonshire, who were not unfrequently subject to fevers in general, but to such "terrible fevers," as had nearly terminated their earthly existence. These very persons have lately written me, that during a twelvemonth's residence near Albion, succeeding a long and fatiguing voyage and journey, they had been less subject to fevers, and have enjoyed better health than when breathing their native air. As to the climate in general, its healthy state has, after four years experience, been proved, by the evidence of persons, whose characters for veracity more particularly, are as superior to that of their calumniator, as light is to darkness.—It is false that Mr. W. Hunt was brought to an untimely end by "a terrible fever." At the moment I am writing I have a gentleman at my elbow, who during his late residence at the Illinois was well acquainted with Mr. H. and with the circumstances attending his death; and he has authorized me to state:—That Mr. Hunt's disorder was a common pleurisy, attended with but a slight degree of fever; that he was fast recovering; but as is not uncommon in other countries, not taking proper care of himself, and negligent in following medical advice, he had a relapse which terminated fatally.
It is false, that my amiable and excellent nephew died also in consequence of one of those "terrible fevers." Being intimately acquainted with the circumstances of his case, from the very best authority I assure the reader, that his death was occasioned by a common complaint {70} in all countries, and to which young people are more peculiarly subject: a cold, caught on a journey, (it is not necessary to detail the particulars) which, without any alarming symptoms of fever, terminated in a decline, and as is frequently the case in such disorders, suddenly, when his parents and family were flattering themselves he had nearly recovered. Thus has Mr. Cobbett impiously represented an affecting visitation of Providence;—a visitation common to every spot on the habitable globe,—as a judgment inflicted on my brother for not following his advice, although he forgot to add, that this advice was enforced with a denunciation, clothed in his favourite phraseology, "I'll be d——d if I do not write down Birkbeck and his settlement."[72]—Thus has he strove to transpierce the heart of a father, and to tear open a wound, which time, a flourishing situation, with those ample means of enjoyment with which the favour of providence has surrounded him, together with those "strong consolations," which a true christian only can feel the force of, was healing; and I trust, that the same supports will enable him to triumph over the fiend whose deadly aim has been to send him a mourner to the grave.
Mr. C. warns my brother and his family "to retreat in time," which if they do not, he dooms them for their lives "to pass their days principally amongst the fellers of trees, and the swallowers of whiskey." After the reader has attended to the evidence respecting the state of society at the English settlements, in the pamphlet before him, (I might refer him to additional respectable evidence) it is only necessary to warn Mr. C. in return, should he again cross the Atlantic, and take it into his head to reside at the Illinois, to be careful to leave his vicious habits of {71} swearing and lying behind him, as he will otherwise find not only English society, but even the society of "fellers of trees, and swallowers of whiskey" too humane, too civilized, too virtuous to be very fond of his company.
The hypocrisy of Mr. Cobbett, in his professions of respect for Mr. B. and my brother can only be equalled by his falsehood. His inhuman attack on the latter I have already noticed; and his eagerness in the same Register, to expose and misrepresent private matters with which the public have no concern, for the sole purpose of making mischief, must be too obvious to its readers to require farther notice. I might quote from a subsequent Register, the manner in which he has endeavoured to ridicule both my brother and Mr. B. but it is too contemptible for a reply.
Mr. Birkbeck, in the letter quoted by Cobbett observes, "I suppose you have seen Cobbett's attack on me, and laughed at the ridiculous posture in which he has contrived to place me." On this Mr. C. indignantly demands—"Pray Sir, by what rule known amongst men, are you justified in imputing to me an attack on you. I addressed to you two letters while I was in Long Island, dated in the latter part of the year 1818:—now throughout the whole of those letters there is not to be found one single expression to warrant this charge of having made an attack on you; from one end to the other I speak of you with the greatest respect." Of the sincerity of these professions the reader will judge, by a short extract or two from the letters referred to. "It is of little consequence," observes Mr. C. "what wild schemes are formed by men who have property enough to carry them back; but to invite men to go to the Illinois, with a few score of pounds in their pockets, and to tell them that they can become farmers with those pounds, appears to me to admit of no other apology {72} than an unequivocal acknowledgment that the author is MAD! Yet your fifteenth letter from the Illinois really contains such an invitation. This letter is manifestly addressed to an imaginary person, it is clear that the correspondent is a feigned or supposed being. It is, I am sorry to say, a mere trap to catch poor creatures with a few pounds in their pockets." Mr. Birkbeck in reply, after stating that his letter was not addressed to an "imaginary person," but to one with whose circumstances he was intimately acquainted, a relation by marriage, adds:—"You have posted me over England and America as mad, as a simpleton, and a boaster, and in one or two instances as something worse. So great a liberty with truth, you say, never was taken by any mortal being; and having made the discovery, you are in great haste to conclude your letter to me, that your son William might take it to England with him, and publish it there six months before I could hear of it!"—So much for Mr. Cobbett's sincerity in his high professions of respect for Mr. B. his veracity in declaring he made "no attack on him," and that his letter, "was not written to be circulated in Europe!" It is a pity that he did not adduce his ever-memorable denunciation against Mr. B. and his settlement uttered a short time before he wrote his letters, as an additional proof of his sincerity and veracity![73]
The conceit of this writer is as intolerable as his other vicious qualities. Speaking of the House of Commons, he thus expresses himself:—"I am well aware of all the feelings that are at work in that assembly with regard to me and my writings. I have not mock modesty enough, to pretend not to perceive the power that I have in the {73} country; and it is out of the power of that assembly to disguise from me that they are well aware of the extent of that power. Neither am I ignorant of the power that I have with regard to their actions, and of the great reluctance that they have to suffer the public to perceive that they feel the effects of any such power. I manage my matters adroitly: but the power I have, and the power I will have; and this I repeat it, the public know full as well as I do; and I only state the facts here in order to let those who grudge me the power know, that the possession of it gives me great satisfaction." How adroitly this bankrupt in fortunes and character has "managed his matters," the London Gazette and our courts of justice have recently afforded ample evidence; and should he profess modesty, that it will be "mock modesty," no man will dispute: as to the rest of the paragraph, surely the ravings of the poor bedlamite, with his crown of straw, brandishing his straw scepter, and fancying himself a king, appears rationality itself compared with this display of bloated pride and intoxicated vanity! What particular power this writer possesses over the country, or over parliament, I know not: that he may impose upon some people by his acknowledged talents as a writer, whose style is so well calculated for the lower classes more particularly, and by his confident assertions, I do not deny; but in justice to Mr. C. I must observe, that I do not believe his powers for wickedness are so gigantic as he has laboured to persuade us they are. How often has he boasted of his power at any time totally to ruin the Bank of England by his favourite project of a general forgery of bank notes; and which he could easily put in execution at any time; but notwithstanding he proves his good wishes on the subject, he has not had that {74} confidence in his own marvellous powers, as to risk his neck in the acquisition of that exaltation, which the attempt to put such a project in execution would most assuredly be his reward!
Mr. Birkbeck has drawn a most correct miniature likeness of his grand enemy, in describing him as a man,—I copy the sentence as printed by Mr. C.—"KNOWN to be wholly indifferent to truth." This description is so terribly galling as to provoke him to give additional proof of its justice. How numerous are the proofs,—how vast the evidence which might be collected from his writings! How many of the most useful and ornamental characters, and of the greatest and best men in the political, social, and literary world has he not libelled! It is not only Birkbeck, and Flower, but Waithman, Burdett,[74] {75} and Fox, Priestley, Franklin, Locke, and Addison, with many others whom this general libeller has calumniated. But to wade through his innumerable pages, and to collect the numberless proofs of the truth of this statement would be a more Herculean task than that of cleansing the Augean stable. To the number of his Register already quoted I must confine myself: and indeed that may be produced as a fair specimen of many others. Many years since, and early in his political career, he poured forth his abuse on Dr. Franklin; the fit has lately revisited him; and it has happened to him, to use the language of St. Peter, when describing similar characters of his time, according to the true proverb, the dog is turned to his own vomit again. Speaking of this friend of his country, and of the world, Mr. C. observes:—"Dr. Franklin's maxims are childish, if not trivial; a still greater number of them are false, the whole tenor of them tends to evil, for it constantly aims at strengthening selfishness, and at enfeebling generosity."—Yes reader! such is the description of the luminous pages of this illustrious American philosopher, statesman, and patriot, and which abound equally with lessons of philanthropy and prudence, enforced by his own example, and which have instructed, improved, and adorned, not only his own country, but almost every civilized spot on the habitable globe.
But although there is much more offensive matter in the Register I have quoted, I must draw to a close. Mr. C. on some subjects shews considerable talents and industry, and he might have been useful to society, had he confined himself to his peculiar forte,—ferretting out {76} public abuses, and making every class understand their nature. It is indeed to be lamented how little he feels himself, what he has made others feel. But, as there is no system, men nor measures, but he has equally panegyrised and reviled, as it has suited his caprice, or weathercock opinions; his own conduct has, in a great degree, destroyed the effects of the best parts of his writings.—But as he has lately turned his attention to that best of books,—the bible,—which he has frequently sneered at, and reviled the successful exertions of those who have extended its circulation;—as his prolific pen has lately produced SERMONS, in which he has displayed his usual energies, I will not despair of him; and I hope he will take in good part my friendly and concluding hints. I will help him to one or two subjects for his succeeding sermons. The first shall be—THE SIN AND DANGER OF PROFANE SWEARING, from Exodus xx. 7. Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain. The other,—GOD'S ABHORRENCE OF FALSEHOOD, from Prov. xii. 22. Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord. No man is capable of doing these subjects more ample justice; and I will promise him that, as I have distributed some of his writings, I will so exert myself respecting these proposed sermons, as that he may add to his recent boastings of their extensive sale. It is impossible that in reading and studying the Bible, he can prevent it from flying in his face, and I most sincerely hope his reflections will terminate in his repentance and reformation: that he may no longer remain in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity; but that it may be his fervent prayer to God,—That the thoughts of his heart may be forgiven him.