 | The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq |  |
iv
1. VOLUME I.
228
“I've A THOUGHT—WHAT'S IT LIKE?”
'Twas winter—round the social hearthDevoted all to glee and mirth,
A social few, in humour gay,
Were sporting half the night away;
And still some quaint device was found,
As laughter, wit, and wine went round.
Attend, says Didius, if you will,
I'll make a trial of your skill;
A thought hath just popp'd in my mind,
Let every one a likeness find;
And he that can't a likeness fit
Shall take a glass to whet his wit.
For wine is known to be specific
In making barren brains prolific:
And 'tis past doubt, a bumper will him ease
Who is hard bound in making similies.
A thought doth now my fancy strike;
Pray tell me what my thought is like.
229
A waggon, lute, a barber's-block.
Quoth Didius, what a medley's here!
Things so dissimilar, I fear,
Cannot by any skill be shewn
Like to a single thing unknown.
But now the group's together brought,
I'll tell you what it was I thought.
A learned author, Adrian hight,
Did late in Bailey's journal write,
And plainly prov'd, by dint of law,
That jurymen are men of straw;
And for no other use design'd
But to confirm the judge's mind;
That they've no conscience of their own,
But from the bench must take their tone;
And have no eyes to see what's right,
Unless the court affords them light;
And tho' their doings may seem tragic,
They're phantoms rais'd by legal magic;
Whom conj'ring judges take to court,
To shew their skill in making sport;
To toss about like any jack-stone,
And for authority quote Blackstone;
Referring us to page three hundred;
As if judge Blackstone never blunder'd.
230
Pronounce against a late grand jury;
And prov'd that animal rationale
With jurymen will never tally:
Because 'tis plainly to be seen
A jury's but a mere machine.
My thoughts thus on grand juries ran;
Make out a likeness if you can.
Titius.
That juries are like brooms, I trow,
Is not so very hard to shew:—
Pray doth not Betty with her broom
Sweep dirt and dust from every room,
And tho' the floors are trod by many;
Will keep them clean as any penny:
But should the wench a slattern prove,
Not willing all the dirt to move,
She heaps it in a corner sly,
And hides it snug from ev'ry eye;
Where with the broom 'tis cover'd over,
No mortal can the fraud discover.
So a grand jury's but a bosom,
Which judges use as it may please 'em
To sweep poor rogues and felons great
From all the precincts of the state;
Or else to cover o'er a flaw
From the sharp notice of the law.
Further, should Dick, with saucy tongue,
Do madam Betty any wrong,
She lays the broom-stick o'er his back,
'Till one or t'other's sure to crack:
So should a base plebeian censure
The conduct of the learned bench, or
Laugh at their worships of the quorum,
The culprit soon is brought before 'em;
When by the means of broom-stick jury
Their honours vent their rage and fury;
And by instructive bonds and fetters
Teach him to reverence his betters.
But should this seem too round-about
To make a real likeness out,
With your good leave, I'll try again,
And make the matter still more plain.
Is not so very hard to shew:—
Pray doth not Betty with her broom
Sweep dirt and dust from every room,
And tho' the floors are trod by many;
Will keep them clean as any penny:
But should the wench a slattern prove,
Not willing all the dirt to move,
She heaps it in a corner sly,
And hides it snug from ev'ry eye;
Where with the broom 'tis cover'd over,
No mortal can the fraud discover.
So a grand jury's but a bosom,
Which judges use as it may please 'em
To sweep poor rogues and felons great
From all the precincts of the state;
Or else to cover o'er a flaw
From the sharp notice of the law.
Further, should Dick, with saucy tongue,
Do madam Betty any wrong,
231
'Till one or t'other's sure to crack:
So should a base plebeian censure
The conduct of the learned bench, or
Laugh at their worships of the quorum,
The culprit soon is brought before 'em;
When by the means of broom-stick jury
Their honours vent their rage and fury;
And by instructive bonds and fetters
Teach him to reverence his betters.
But should this seem too round-about
To make a real likeness out,
With your good leave, I'll try again,
And make the matter still more plain.
Doubtless you've often heard it told,
Or may have read in stories old—
A witch, when she would take an airing,
Hath neither coach, or chaise, or chair, in
Which she can with convenience ride,
But on a broom-stick sits astride:
Thus mounted, she thro' wind and weather
Will scud away, like any feather:
And so by means of blasts and breezes
Will any mischief do she pleases.
Now the broom-stick, it is well known,
Hath no such virtue of its own,
Nor can it do or harm or good
More than another stick of wood,
Until 'tis warm'd by magic breech
Of pow'rful super straddling witch.
So jurymen, plac'd side by side,
Are sticks whereon the judges ride;
But have no pow'r to speak or budge
Until inspir'd by tail of judge.
For when his honour's fairly seated,
The bench will thereby soon be heated,
Conveying sympathetic fury,
From tail of judge to head of jury:
Who, tho' they torpid stood before,
And dead as any nail in door,
Are animated to obey
Whate'er their honours please to say;
And ignoramus, or true bill, find
According to the judge's mind.
Or may have read in stories old—
A witch, when she would take an airing,
Hath neither coach, or chaise, or chair, in
Which she can with convenience ride,
But on a broom-stick sits astride:
Thus mounted, she thro' wind and weather
Will scud away, like any feather:
And so by means of blasts and breezes
Will any mischief do she pleases.
Now the broom-stick, it is well known,
Hath no such virtue of its own,
Nor can it do or harm or good
More than another stick of wood,
Until 'tis warm'd by magic breech
232
So jurymen, plac'd side by side,
Are sticks whereon the judges ride;
But have no pow'r to speak or budge
Until inspir'd by tail of judge.
For when his honour's fairly seated,
The bench will thereby soon be heated,
Conveying sympathetic fury,
From tail of judge to head of jury:
Who, tho' they torpid stood before,
And dead as any nail in door,
Are animated to obey
Whate'er their honours please to say;
And ignoramus, or true bill, find
According to the judge's mind.
So necromancers raise the devil
To answer questions good or evil.
To answer questions good or evil.
But should his honour raise bum-fiddle,
The charm would break off in the middle,
And jurymen be left of course
In former plight, if not much worse.
The charm would break off in the middle,
And jurymen be left of course
In former plight, if not much worse.
A feather thus, by learn'd instructor,
Fix'd nicely on the prime conductor,
Will swell its plumage in a minute,
And start as if the devil was in it:
But let the electric spark be drawn,
And all its animation's gone.
Fix'd nicely on the prime conductor,
Will swell its plumage in a minute,
And start as if the devil was in it:
But let the electric spark be drawn,
And all its animation's gone.
233
Of juries 'tis a known law canon,
The judge is causa sine qua non:
And this must be what Adrian means,
In saying they are MERE MACHINES.
The judge is causa sine qua non:
And this must be what Adrian means,
In saying they are MERE MACHINES.
Sempronius.
A jury's like a door, no doubt,
The hardship is to make it out;
Yet by the help of tongue and brain,
I hope to make the likeness plain.
The hardship is to make it out;
Yet by the help of tongue and brain,
I hope to make the likeness plain.
Juries, like doors, empannel'd are,
And both secur'd by a bar:
Exactly balanc'd doors should be,
On equal hinges, turning free:
So juries right from wrong divide,
Not leaning false to either side;
But on two hinges justly act,
The one call'd law, the other fact.
A door is made to turn about,
To let folks in, or shut them out;
And with a lock and key made certain,
To keep the door and post from parting.
So to the duties of his station,
A jury's bound by admin'stration
Of oath, or solemn affirmation;
Which like a lock should keep them tight
To posts of justice fix'd upright;
But then the judge still keeps in pocket
A key to lock or to unlock it;
Knows all the wards, and springs, and screws
That bolt it fast, or let it loose;
For by the law, expounding conscience,
He'll make an oath, or sense, or nonsense;
Extent of affirmation measure,
Most learnedly by will and pleasure:
And prove that words in sense may vary,
And two opposed meanings carry;
The one for those of common sort,
The other for the learned court:
And so warp juries to that side
Which most shall please his wrath or pride,
Surrounding them with legal fences,
Until they've almost lost their senses:
Then blind their eyes, that he may shew
The way in which they ought to go.
And this explains what Adrian means,
By calling juries mere machines.
And both secur'd by a bar:
Exactly balanc'd doors should be,
On equal hinges, turning free:
So juries right from wrong divide,
Not leaning false to either side;
But on two hinges justly act,
The one call'd law, the other fact.
A door is made to turn about,
To let folks in, or shut them out;
And with a lock and key made certain,
To keep the door and post from parting.
So to the duties of his station,
A jury's bound by admin'stration
Of oath, or solemn affirmation;
Which like a lock should keep them tight
To posts of justice fix'd upright;
But then the judge still keeps in pocket
A key to lock or to unlock it;
234
That bolt it fast, or let it loose;
For by the law, expounding conscience,
He'll make an oath, or sense, or nonsense;
Extent of affirmation measure,
Most learnedly by will and pleasure:
And prove that words in sense may vary,
And two opposed meanings carry;
The one for those of common sort,
The other for the learned court:
And so warp juries to that side
Which most shall please his wrath or pride,
Surrounding them with legal fences,
Until they've almost lost their senses:
Then blind their eyes, that he may shew
The way in which they ought to go.
And this explains what Adrian means,
By calling juries mere machines.
Eudocius.
'Tis well—if this is reasoning right,I'm not in such a woeful plight;
But in few words can make it clear
That jurymen like clocks appear.
A clock is form'd with curious art,
And wisdom shewn every part:
And weights, and wheels, and springs combine
To prove that motion's the design:
But whether it shall go or stop,
Depends upon the winding up:
235
To point the time, or strike the hour,
The master's over-ruling hand
Hath all its movements at command:
He turns a screw to make it go,
Just as he pleases, fast or slow:
To STRIKE, or SILENT, sets a pin
According to the humour he's in.
The poor machine, without dispute,
Or dins our ears, or stands quite mute.
The clock presumes to point at four,
The master says, 'tis false I'm sure;
And by his arbitrary power,
Soon makes it tell another hour.
And thus the clock the time shall measure,
Not by the sun, but his good pleasure.
And what's a jury but a sort
Of passive time-piece for a court;
A clock, the key of which in trust is
Of learned judge, or unlearn'd justice.
A jury's power exists or ceases,
According to the court's caprices,
Nor dare, or to release, or damn us,
By a true bill, or ignoramus;
Unless the judge first gives the cue,
T'inform them what they ought to do.
That this is law I do aver,
And for authority refer
To Bailey's journal, where you'll find
The doctrine clear, by Adrian sign'd.
236
Dion.
Who cannot make his likeness fit,
Must take a glass to help his wit;
Because, 'tis said, Madeira wine
Will sharpen wit, or make it shine,
Just like a shaving in a blaze, or
A hone or strap, will whet a razor,
But I'm in hopes to drive my waggon,
Without the help of glass or flaggon,
If you'll allow six horses strong
To drag my simile along.
Doth not a jury's foreman seem
Just like the fore-horse of a team?
Where e'er he leads, up hill, down hollow,
The rest can do no less than follow.
The judge the driver may resemble,
With whip in hand, to make them tremble,
To lash them well with points of law,
Should they presume to GEE or HAW;
Or stand stock still, or change their station,
Against his honour's inclination.
Must take a glass to help his wit;
Because, 'tis said, Madeira wine
Will sharpen wit, or make it shine,
Just like a shaving in a blaze, or
A hone or strap, will whet a razor,
But I'm in hopes to drive my waggon,
Without the help of glass or flaggon,
If you'll allow six horses strong
To drag my simile along.
Doth not a jury's foreman seem
Just like the fore-horse of a team?
Where e'er he leads, up hill, down hollow,
The rest can do no less than follow.
The judge the driver may resemble,
With whip in hand, to make them tremble,
To lash them well with points of law,
Should they presume to GEE or HAW;
Or stand stock still, or change their station,
Against his honour's inclination.
Quoth
Didius, stop!—you drive so fast,
You'll find yourself bemir'd at last.
Can things inanimate compare
With those that living creatures are?
A mere machine be found at all
Like a self-moving animal?
A horse hath each essential part
Like us—as brains, and lungs, and heart;
Hath tendons, sinews, muscles, nerves,
And each an equal purpose serves
In him and us—th' intent the same,
Nor varied ought in form or name.
Philosophers of nice discerning
Have search'd the very depths of learning,
And held the most profound disputes
About the mortal souls of brutes;
Yet cannot to this hour determine
What animates the meanest vermin.
You'll find yourself bemir'd at last.
Can things inanimate compare
With those that living creatures are?
A mere machine be found at all
Like a self-moving animal?
A horse hath each essential part
Like us—as brains, and lungs, and heart;
Hath tendons, sinews, muscles, nerves,
237
In him and us—th' intent the same,
Nor varied ought in form or name.
Philosophers of nice discerning
Have search'd the very depths of learning,
And held the most profound disputes
About the mortal souls of brutes;
Yet cannot to this hour determine
What animates the meanest vermin.
Some will insist, that each dumb creature
Is ruled by th' instinct of his nature;
That what they do is done of course,
Not by volition, but per force;
Nature impelling them to do
What looks like reason at first view:
But, what's this instinct, what their mind,
No metaphysics yet could find.
Whilst others boldly reason thus;
That brutes have souls as well as us;
That when a horse remembers where
He has been fed and nurs'd with care,
His memory is the same with ours,
The same in kind, tho' not in powers:
Aver a dog can form a project,
And argue shrewdly in dog logic,
And shew more wisdom in his plan,
Than an untutor'd stupid man;
Will say, the lowest of our race
Should to the best of their's give place:
Reason with instinct blending so,
That none their real bounds can know.
But I shall not presume to say,
In this dispute, which should give way.
Doubtless there many cases are,
Where men with brutes may well compare.
But mere machines cannot at all
Be liken'd to an animal;
Nor can a man, unless in drink,
Say clocks or juries ever think;
Their movement may deceive our eyes,
And look, indeed, like something wise,
But 'tis—and such is Adrian's notion,
A foreign force that gives them motion,
Deriving all their power to budge
From gravity of the earth or judge.
So that, altho' your simile's bold,
I find the likeness will not hold:
Besides, you first a waggon brought,
Alledging it was like my thought,
And now attempt to shew, which worse is,
A jury's like a team of horses;
You've chang'd your ground, artful indeed,
But tho' your labour can't succeed,
At least we thank you for your rhyme,
And wish you luck another time.
Is ruled by th' instinct of his nature;
That what they do is done of course,
Not by volition, but per force;
Nature impelling them to do
What looks like reason at first view:
But, what's this instinct, what their mind,
No metaphysics yet could find.
Whilst others boldly reason thus;
That brutes have souls as well as us;
That when a horse remembers where
He has been fed and nurs'd with care,
His memory is the same with ours,
The same in kind, tho' not in powers:
Aver a dog can form a project,
And argue shrewdly in dog logic,
And shew more wisdom in his plan,
Than an untutor'd stupid man;
Will say, the lowest of our race
Should to the best of their's give place:
Reason with instinct blending so,
238
But I shall not presume to say,
In this dispute, which should give way.
Doubtless there many cases are,
Where men with brutes may well compare.
But mere machines cannot at all
Be liken'd to an animal;
Nor can a man, unless in drink,
Say clocks or juries ever think;
Their movement may deceive our eyes,
And look, indeed, like something wise,
But 'tis—and such is Adrian's notion,
A foreign force that gives them motion,
Deriving all their power to budge
From gravity of the earth or judge.
So that, altho' your simile's bold,
I find the likeness will not hold:
Besides, you first a waggon brought,
Alledging it was like my thought,
And now attempt to shew, which worse is,
A jury's like a team of horses;
You've chang'd your ground, artful indeed,
But tho' your labour can't succeed,
At least we thank you for your rhyme,
And wish you luck another time.
Cetera desunt.
| The miscellaneous essays and occasional writings of Francis Hopkinson, Esq | |