THE ENGLISH PRESS.

IV.

It was in January, 1785, that there appeared, for the first time, a journal with the title of The Daily Universal Register, the proprietor and printer of which was John Walter, of Printing House Square, a quiet, little, out-of-the-way nook, nestling under the shadow of St. Paul's, not known to one man in a thousand of the daily wayfarers at the base of Wren's mighty monument, but destined to become as famous and as well known as any spot of ground in historic London. This newspaper boasted but four pages, and was composed by a new process, with types consisting of words and syllables instead of single letters. On New Year's day, 1788, its denomination was changed to The Times, a name which is potent all the world over, whithersoever Englishmen convey themselves and their belongings, and wherever the mighty utterances of the sturdy Anglo-Saxon tongue are heard. It was long before the infant 'Jupiter' began to exhibit any foreshadowing of his future greatness, and he had a very difficult and up-hill struggle to wage. The Morning Post, The Morning Herald, The Morning Chronicle, and The General Advertiser amply supplied or seemed to supply the wants of the reading public, and the new competitor for public favor did not exhibit such superior ability as to attract any great attention or to diminish the subscription lists of its rivals. The Morning Herald had been started in 1780 by Parson Bate, who quarrelled with his colleagues of The Post. This journal, which is now the organ of mild and antiquated conservatism, was originally started upon liberal principles. Bate immediately ranged himself upon the side of the Prince of Wales and his party, and thus his fortunes were secured. In 1781 his paper sustained a prosecution, and the printer was sentenced to pay a fine of £100, and to undergo one year's imprisonment, for a libel upon the Russian ambassador. For this same libel the printers and publishers of The London Courant, The Noon Gazette, The Gazetteer, The Whitehall Evening Journal, The St. James's Chronicle, and The Middlesex Journal received various sentences of fine and imprisonment, together with, in some cases, the indignity of the pillory. Prosecutions for libel abounded in those days. Horace Walpole says that, dating from Wilkes's famous No. 45, no less than two hundred informations had been laid, a much larger number than during the whole thirty-three years of the previous reign. But the great majority of these must have fallen to the ground, for, in 1791, the then attorney-general stated that, in the last thirty-one years, there had been seventy prosecutions for libel, and about fifty convictions, in twelve of which the sentences had been severe—including even, in five instances, the pillory. The law of libel was extremely harsh, to say the least of it. One of its dogmas was that a publisher could be held criminally liable for the acts of his servants, unless proved to be neither privy nor assenting to such acts. The monstrous part of this was that, after a time, the judges refused to receive any exculpatory evidence, and ruled that the publication of a libel by a publisher's servant was proof sufficient of that publisher's criminality. This rule actually obtained until 1843, when it was swept away by an act of Parliament, under the auspices of Lord Campbell. The second was even worse; for it placed the judge above the jury, and superseded the action of that dearly prized safeguard of an Englishman's liberties, it asserting that it was for the judge alone, and not for the jury, to decide as to the criminality of a libel. Such startling and outrageous doctrines as these roused the whole country, and the matter was taken up in Parliament. Fierce debates followed from time to time, and the assailants of this monstrous overriding of the Constitution—for it was nothing less—were unremitting in their efforts. Among the most distinguished of these were Burke, Sheridan, and Erskine, the last of whom was constantly engaged as counsel for the defence in the most celebrated libel trials of the day. In 1791, Fox brought in a bill for amending the law of libel, and so great had the change become in public opinion, through the agitation that had been carried on, that it passed unanimously in the House of Commons. Erskine took a very prominent part in this measure, and, after demonstrating that the judges had arrogated to themselves the rights and functions of the jury, said that if, upon a motion in arrest of judgment, the innocence of the defendant's intention was argued before the court, the answer would be, and was, given uniformly, that the verdict of guilty had concluded the criminality of the intention, though the consideration of that question had been by the judge's authority wholly withdrawn from the jury at the trial. The bill met with opposition in the House of Lords, especially from Lord Thurlow, who procured the postponement of the second reading until the opinion of the judges should have been ascertained. They, on being appealed to, declared that the criminality or innocence of any act was the result of the judgment which the law pronounces upon that act, and must therefore be in all cases and under all circumstances matter of law, and not matter of fact, and that the criminality or innocence of letters or papers set forth as overt acts of treason, was matter of law, and not of fact. These startling assertions had not much weight with the House of Lords, thanks to the able arguments of Lord Camden, and the bill passed, with a protest attached from Lord Thurlow and five others, in which they predicted 'the confusion and destruction of the law of England.' Of this bill, Macaulay says: 'Fox and Pitt are fairly entitled to divide the high honor of having added to our statute book the inestimable law which places the liberty of the press under the protection of juries.' Intimately connected with this struggle for the liberty of public opinion was another mighty engine, which was brought to bear, and that was the Public Association, with its legitimate offspring, the Public Meeting. The power and influence which this organization exerted were enormous, and, though it was often employed in a bad or unworthy cause—such, for instance, as the Protestant agitation, culminating in Lord George Gordon's riots in 1780—yet it has been of incalculable advantage to the progress of the state, the enlightenment of the nation, and the advancement of civilization, freedom, and truth. Take, for instance, the Slave-Trade Association, the object and scope of which are thus admirably described by Erskine May, in his 'Constitutional History of England':

'It was almost beyond the range of politics. It had no constitutional change to seek, no interest to promote, no prejudice to gratify, not even the national welfare to advance. Its clients were a despised race in a distant clime—an inferior type of the human family—for whom natures of a higher mould felt repugnance rather than sympathy. Benevolence and Christian charity were its only incentives. On the other hand, the slave-trade was supported by some of the most powerful classes in the country—merchants, shipowners, planters. Before it could be proscribed, vested interests must be overborne—ignorance enlightened—prejudices and indifference overcome—public opinion converted. And to this great work did Granville Sharpe, Wilberforce, Clarkson, and other noble spirits devote their lives. Never was cause supported by greater earnestness and activity. The organization of the society comprehended all classes and religious denominations. Evidence was collected from every source to lay bare the cruelties and iniquities of the traffic. Illustration and argument were inexhaustible. Men of feeling and sensibility appealed with deep emotion to the religious feelings and benevolence of the people. If extravagance and bad taste sometimes courted ridicule, the high purpose, just sentiments, and eloquence of the leaders of the movement won respect and admiration. Tracts found their way into every house, pulpits and platforms resounded with the wrongs of the negro; petitions were multiplied, ministers and Parliament moved to inquiry and action.... Parliament was soon prevailed upon to attempt the mitigation of the worst evils which had been brought to light, and in little more than twenty years the slave trade was utterly condemned and prohibited.'

And this magnificent result sprang from a Public Association. In this, the most noble crusade that has ever been undertaken by man, the newspapers bore a conspicuous part, and though, as might be expected, they did not all take the same views, yet they rendered good service to the glorious cause. But this tempting subject has carried us away into a rather lengthy digression from our immediate topic. To return, therefore:

In 1786 there was a memorable action for libel brought by Pitt against The Morning Herald and The Morning Advertiser, for accusing him of having gambled in the public funds. He laid his damages at £10,000, but only obtained a verdict for £250 in the first case, and £150 in the second. In 1789 John Walter was sentenced to pay a fine of £50, to be exposed in the pillory for an hour, and to be imprisoned for one year, at the expiration of which he was ordered to find substantial bail for his good behavior for seven years, for a libel upon the Duke of York. In the following year he was again prosecuted and convicted for libels upon the Prince of Wales, the Duke of York, and the Duke of Clarence, but, after undergoing four months of his second term of one year's imprisonment, he was set free, at the instance of the Prince of Wales. The last trial for libel, previous to the passing of Fox's libel bill, was that of one Stockdale, for publishing a defence of Warren Hastings, a pamphlet that was considered as libellously reflecting upon the House of Commons. However, through the great exertions of Erskine, his counsel, he was acquitted.

In 1788 appeared the first daily evening paper, The Star, which continued until 1831, when it was amalgamated with The Albion. The year 1789 is memorable for the assumption of the editorship of The Morning Chronicle by James Perry, under whose management it reached a greater pitch of prosperity and success than it ever enjoyed either before or since—greater, in fact, than any journal had hitherto attained. One of the chief reasons of this success was that he printed the night's debates in his next morning's issue, a thing which had never before been accomplished or even attempted. Another secret of Perry's success was the wonderful tact with which, while continuing to be thoroughly outspoken and independent, he yet contrived—with one exception, hereafter to be noticed—to steer clear of giving offence to the Government. He is thus spoken of by a writer in The Edinburgh Review: 'He held the office of editor for nearly forty years, and he held firm to his party and his principles all that time—a long time for political honesty and consistency to last! He was a man of strong natural sense, some acquired knowledge, a quick tact, prudent, plausible, and with great heartiness and warmth of feeling.' His want of education, however, now and then betrayed him into errors, and a curious instance of this is, that on one occasion, when he meant to say 'epithalamia,' he wrote and printed 'epicedia,' a mistake which he corrected with the greatest coolness on the following day thus: 'For 'epicedia' read 'epithalamia.'

The next event of importance is the appearance of Bell's Weekly Messenger, in 1796, a newspaper that met with immediate success, and is the only one of the weeklies of that period which have survived to the present time. The year '96 is also remarkable for an action brought by The Telegraph against The Morning Post, for damages suffered by publishing an extract from a French paper, which purported to give the intelligence of peace between the Emperor of Germany and France, but which was forged and surreptitiously sent to The Telegraph by the proprietors of The Morning Post. The result was that The Telegraph obtained a verdict for £100 damages. In 1794, The Morning Advertiser had been established by the Licensed Victuallers of London, with the intention of benefiting by its sale the funds of the asylum which that body had recently established. It at once obtained a large circulation, inasmuch as every publican became a subscriber. It exists to the present day, and is known by the slang sobriquet of the 'Tub,' an appellation suggested by its clientèle. Its opinions are radical, and it is conducted not without a fair share of ability, but, occasionally venturing out of its depth, it has more than once been most successfully and amusingly hoaxed. One of these cases was when a correspondent contributed an extraordinary Greek inscription, which he asserted had been recently discovered. This so-called inscription was in reality nothing but some English doggerel of anything but a refined character turned into Greek.

In 1797, Canning brought out The Anti-Jacobin as a Government organ, and Gifford—who began life as a cobbler's apprentice at an out-of-the-way little town in Devonshire, and afterward became editor of The Quarterly Review in its palmiest days—was intrusted with its management. The Anti-Jacobin lasted barely eight months, but was probably the most potent satirical production that has ever emanated from the English press. The first talent of the day was engaged upon it; and among its contributors we find Pitt, Lord Mornington, afterward Marquis of Wellesley, Lord Morpeth, afterward Earl of Carlisle, Jenkinson, afterward Earl of Liverpool, Canning, George Ellis, Southey, Lord Bathurst, Addington, John Hookham Frere, and a host of other prominent names at the time. The poetry of The Anti-Jacobin—its strongest feature—has been collected into a volume, which has passed through several editions. This journal was the first to inaugurate 'sensation' headings; for the three columns which were respectively entitled 'Mistakes,' 'Misrepresentations,' 'Lies,' and which most truculently slashed away at the opponents of the political opinions of The Anti-Jacobin, decidedly come under that category.