LETTER I. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE submission of a free people to the executive authori­ty of government, is no more than a compliance with laws which they themselves have enacted. While the national honour is firmly maintained abroad, and while justice is im­partially administered at home, the obedience of the sub­ject will be voluntary, cheerful, and I might almost say un­limited. A generous nation is grateful even for the pre­servation of its rights, and willingly extends the respect due to the Office of a good prince into an affection for his Person. Loyalty, in the heart and understanding of an Englishman, is a rational attachment to the guardian of the laws. Preju­dices and passion have sometimes carried it to a criminal length; and, whatever foreigners may imagine, we know that Englishmen have erred as much in a mistaken zeal for particular persons and families, as they ever did in defence of what they thought most dear and interesting to themselves.

It naturally fills us with resentment, to see such a temper insulted and abused. In reading the history of a free people, whose rights have been invaded, we are interested in their cause. Our own feelings tell us how they ought to have sub­mitted, and at what moment it would have been treachery to themselves not to have resisted. How much warmer will [Page 14]be our resentment, if experience should bring the fatal exam­ple home to ourselves!

The situation of this country is alarming enough to rouse the attention of every man who pretends to a concern for the public welfare. Appearances justify suspicion; and when the safety of a nation is at stake, suspicion is a just ground of inquiry. Let us enter into it with candour and decency. Respect is due to the station of ministers; and, if a resolution must at last be taken, there is none so likely to be supported with firmness as that which has been adopted with mode­ration.

The ruin or prosperity of a state depends so much upon the administration of its government, that, to be acquainted with the merit of a ministry, we need only observe the con­dition of the people. If we see them obedient to the laws, prosperous in their industry, united at home, and respected abroad, we may reasonably presume that their affairs are con­ducted by men of experience, abilities, and virtue. If, on the contrary, we see an universal spirit of distrust and dissatisfacti­on, a rapid decay of trade, dissensions in all parts of the em­pire, and a total loss of respect in the eyes of foreign powers, we may pronounce without hesitation, that the government of that country is weak, distracted, and corrupt. The mul­titude, in all countries, are patient to a certain point. Ill-usage may rouse their indignation, and hurry them into ex­cesses; but the original fault is in government. Parhaps there never was an instance of a change, in the circumstances and temper of a whole nation, so sudden and extraordinary as that which the misconduct of ministers has, within these few years, produced in Great Britain. When our gracious Sove­reign ascended the throne, we were a flourshing and a content­ed people. If the personal virtues of a king could have insured the happiness of his subjects, the scene could not have alter­ed so entirely as it has done. The idea of uniting all par­ties, of trying all characters, and distributing the offices of state by rotation, was gracious and benevolent to an ex­treme, though it has not yet produced the many salutary ef­fects which were intended by it. To say nothing of the wisdom of such a plan, it undoubtedly arose from an un­bounded goodness of heart, in which folly had no share. It was not a capricious partiality to new faces;—it was not a natural turn for low intrigue;—nor was it the treacherous [Page 15]amusement of double and triple negociations. No, Sir; it arose from a continued anxiety, in the purest of all possible hearts, for the general welfare. Unfortunately for us, the event has not been answerable to the design. After a rapid succession of changes, we are reduced to that state, which hardly any change can mend. Yet there is no extremity of distress, which of itself ought to reduce a great nation to despair. It is not the disorder but the physician;—it is not a casual cencurrence of calamitous circumstances;—it is the pernicious hand of government, which alone can make a whole people desperate.

Without much political sagacity, or any extraordinary depth of observation, we need only mark how the principal departments of the state are bestowed, and look no farther for the true cause of every mischief that befals us.

^*The finances of a nation, sinking under its debts and ex­pences, are committed to a young nobleman already ruined by play. Introduced to act under the auspices of Lord Cha­tham, and left at the head of affairs by that nobleman's re­treat, he became minister by accident; but deserting the principles and professions which gave him a moment's popu­larity, we see him, from every honourable engagement to the public, an apostate by design. As for business, the world yet knows nothing of his talents or resolution: unless a way­ward, wavering inconsistency be a mark of genius, and caprice a demonstration of spirit. It may be said, perhaps, that it is his Grace's province, as surely it is his passion, rather to distribute than to save the public money; and the while Lord North is Chancellor of the Exchequer, the First Lord of the Treasury may be as thoughtless and extravagant as he pleases. I hope, however, he will not rely too much on the fertility of Lord North's genius for finance. His Lordship is yet to give us the first proof of his abilities: it may be candid to suppose that he has hitherto voluntarily concealed his talents; intending perhaps to astonish the world, when we least expect it, with a know­ledge [Page 16]of trade, a choice of expedients, and a depth of re­sources, equal to the necessities, and far beyond the hopes, of his country. He must now exert the whole power of his capacity, if he would wish us to forget, that, since he has been in office, no plan has been for [...]ed, no system adhered to, nor any one [...] measure adopted for the relief of public credit. If his plan for the service of the current year be not irrevocably fixed in, let me warn him to think seri­ously of consequences before he ventures to increase the pub­lic debt. [...] and oppressed as we are, this nation will not bear, after a six years peace, to see new mil [...]ions borrow­ed, without an e [...]estual diminution of debt or reduction of interest. The attempt might rouse a spirit of resentment, which might reach [...] and the sacrifice of a minister. As to the debt upon the civil list, the people of [...]ngland expect that it will not be paid without a strict inquiry how it [...] in­curred. If it [...] be paid by parliament, let me advise the Chancellor of the Exchequer to think of some better expe­dient than a lottery. To support at expensive wa [...], or in circumstances of absolute necessity, a lottery may perhaps be allowable; but, besides that it is at all times the very worst way of raising money upon the people. I think it ill becomes the Royal dignity to have the debts of a king provided for, like the repairs of a country bridge, or a decayed hospital. The management of the King's affairs in the House of Com­mons cannot be more disgraced than it has been. ^* A leading minister repeatedly called down for absolute ignorance;—ri­diculous motions ridiculously withdrawn;—deliberate plans disconcerted, and a week's preparation of graceful oratory lost in a moment, gives us some, though not adequate, idea of Lord North's parliamentary abilities and influence. Yet before he had the misfortune of being Chancellor of the Exchequer, he was neither an object of derision to his ene­mies, nor of melancholic pity to his friends.

A series of inconsistent measures has alienated the colonies from their duty as subjects, and from their natural affection to their common country. When Mr. Grenville was placed at the head of the Treasury, [...]e felt the impossibility of Great Britain supporting such an establishment as her former succes­ses had made indispensable, and at the same time of giving [Page 17]any sensible relief to foreign trade, and to the weight of the public debt. He thought it equitable that those parts of the empire which had bene [...]ted most by the expences of the war, should contribute something to the expences of the peace, and he had no doubt of the constitutional right vested [...] parliament to raise the contribution. But, unfortunately for this country. Mr. Grenville was at any rate to be [...] because he was minister, and Mr. [...] ^* and Lord Cam­d [...] were to be the patrons of America because they were in opposition. Their declaration gave spirit and argument to the colonies; and while perhaps they meant no more than the rain of a minister, they in [...] di [...]ided one half of the em­pire from the other.

Under one administration the stamp-act is made; under the second it is repealed; under the third, in spite of all ex­perience, a new mode of taxing the colonies is invented, and a question revi [...]ed which ought to have been buried in ob­li [...]i [...]. In these circumstances a new office is established for the [...] of the plantations, and the Earl of Hi [...]sb [...]ough called forth, at a most critical season, to govern America. The choice at least announced to us a man of superior ca­pacity and knowledge. Whether he be so or not, let his [...] as far as they have a [...]ared, let his measures as far as they have operated, determine for him. In the former, we have seen strong assertions without proof, declaration without argument, and violent [...] without dignity or modernation; but neither correctness in the composition, not judgment in the design. As for his measures, let it be [...], that he was called upon to con [...]late and untie; and that when he entered into office, the most refractory of the colonies were [...] to proceed by the constituti­onal method of petition and [...]. Since that peri­od they have been driven into excesses little these of rebelli­on. Petitions have been [...] from reaching the throne; and the [...] of one of the principal assemblies rested upon [...] ^‡ which, considering the tem­per they were in, it was impossible they should comply with, and which would have availed nothing as to the general ques­tion [Page 18]if it h [...]d been complied with. So violent, and I believe I may call it so unconstitutional, an exertion of the preroga­tive, to say nothing of the weak injudicious terms in which it was con [...]e [...], gives us as humble an opinion of his lord­ship's capacity as it does of his temper and moderation. While we are at peace with other nations, our military force may perhaps be spared to support the Earl of Hilsborough's measures in America. Whenever that force shall be necesarily withdrawn or diminished, the dismission of such a mi­nister will neither console us for his imprudence, nor remove the settled resentment of a people, who complaining of an act of the legislature, are outraged by an unwarrantable stretch of prerogative. and, supporting their claims by argu­ment, are insuited with declamation.

Drawing l [...]ts would be a prudent and reasonable method of appointing the officers of state, compared to a late dispo­sition of the secretary's office. Lord Rochford was acquaint­ed with the affairs and temper of the southern courts: Lord Weymouth was equally qualified for either department. ^* By what unaccountable caprice has it happened. that the latter, who pretends to no experience whatsoever, is removed to the most important of the two departments, and the former by preference laced in an office where his experience can be of no use to him? Lord Weymouth had distinguished himself in his first employment by a spirited if not judicious conduct. He had animated the civil magistrate beyond the tone of civil authority, and had directed the operations of the army to more than military execution. Recovered from the errors of is youth, from the distraction of play, and the b [...]itching smiles of Burgundy, behold him exerting the whole strength of his clear unclouded faculties, in the service of the crown. It was not the heat of midnight ex­cesses, nor ignorance of the laws, nor the furious spirit of the house of Bedford: No, Sir, when this respectable minis­ter interposed his authority between the magistrate and the people, and signed the mandate, on which for aught he knew, the lives of thousands depended, he did it from the [Page 19]deliberate motion of his heart supported by the best of his judgment.

It has lately been a fashion to pay a compliment to the bravery and generosity of the commander in chief ^* at the expence of his understanding. They who love him least make no question of his courage, while his friends dwell chiefly on the facility of his disposition. Admitting him to be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make him, let us se what fort of merit he derives from the remainder of his character. If it be generosity to accu­mulate in his own person and family a number of lucrative employments; to provide, at the public expence, for every creature that bears the name of Manners; and, neglecting the merit and services of the rest of the army, to heap pro­motions upon his favourites and dependants; the present commander in chief is the most generous man alive. Nature has been sparing of her gifts to this noble Lord; but where birth and fortune are united, we expect the noble pride and independence of a man of spirit, not the servile humiliating complaisance of a courtier. As to the goodness of his heart, if a proof of it be taken from the facility of never refusing, what conclusion shall we dray from the indecency of never performing? And if the discipline of the army be in any degree preserved, what thanks are due to a man, whose cares, notoriously confined to filing up vacancies, have degraded the office of commander in chief into a broker of commissions?

With respect to the navy. I shall only say, that this coun­try is so highly indebted to Sir Edward Hawke, that no expence should be spared to secure to him an honourable and affluent retreat.

The pure and impartial administration of justice is per­haps the firmest bond to secure a cheerful submission of the people, and to engage their affections to government. It is not sufficient that questions of private right and wrong are justly decided, nor that judges are superior to the vileness of pecuniary corruption. Jefferies himself, when the court had no interest, was an upright judge. A court of justice may be subject to another sort of bias more important and pernicious, as it reaches beyond the interest of individuals, and affects the whole community. A judge, under the in­fluence [Page 20]of government, nor may be honest enough in the decisi­on of private causes, yet a traitor to the public. When a victim is marked out by the ministry, this judge will off [...] himself to perform the sacrifice. He will not scruple to prostitute his dignity, and betray the sanctity of his officer, whenever an arbitrary point is to be carried for government, or the resentment of a court to be gratified.

These principles, and proceedings, odious and contemp­tible as they are, in effect are no less injudicious. A wise as generous people are roused by every appearance of op­pressive, unconstitutional measures, whether th [...]se measures are supported only by the power of government, or [...] ­ed under the forms of a court of justice. Prudence and self-preservation will oblige the most moderate dispositions to make common cause, even with a man whose conduct they censure, if they see him persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify. The facts, on which these remarks are founded, are too notorious to require an application.

This, Sir, is the detail. In one view, behold a ration overwhelmed with debt; her revenues waited; her trade de­clining; the affections of her col [...]nies alienated; the duty of the magistrate transferred to the soldiery:? gallant army, which [...] fought unwillingly but a [...]ainst their [...]li [...] sub­jects, mouldering away for want of the direction of a man of common abilities and spirit; and, in the last instance, the administration of justice become odious and suspected to the whole body of the people. This deplorable scene admits of but one addition—that we are governed by counsels, from which a reasonable man can expect no remedy but poison, no relief but death.

If, by the immediate interposition of Providence, it were possible for us to escape a crisis so f [...]ll of terror and despair, posterity will no believe the history of the present times, They will either conclude that our distresses were imaginary, or that we had the good fortune to be governed by men of acknowledged integrity and wisdom: they will not believe it possible that their ancestors could have survived or reco­vered from so desperate a condition, while a Duke of C [...] ­ton was Prime Minister, a Lord North Chancellor of the [Page 21]Exchequer, a Weymouth and a Hilsborough Secretaries of State, a Gra [...]by Commander in Chief, and Mansfield Chief Criminal Judge of the Kingdom.

LETTER II. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE kingdom swarms with such numbers of felonious robbers of public character and virtue, that no hone [...]t good man is safe; especially as these cowardly base aff [...]s­sous [...] in the dark, without having the courage to sign their real naves so their malevolent any wicked productions. A writer who signs himself Junius, in the Public Advertiser of the [...] indant, opens the deplorable [...]ation of his coun­try in a very affecting manner: With a pompous parade of his candour and decency, he tells us, that we see dissensions in all parts of the empire, an universal spirit of distrust and dissatisfaction, and a total loss of respect towards us in the eyes of foreign powers. But this writer, with all his heast­ed candour, has not told us the real cause of the evils be so pathetically [...] I shall take the liberty to explain the cause for him. Junius and such writers as himself occa­sion all the mischief complained of, by falsely and malici­ously [...]ducing the best [...]haracter in the kingdom. For wh [...] our delu [...]d people at home, and foreigners al [...]ed, read the poisonous and inflammatory libels that are daily publi [...]d with impunity, to vilify those who are any way distinguished by their good qualities and eminent virtues; when they find no notice taken of, or reply given to, these slanderous, tongues and [...], their conlusions is, that both the ministers and the nation have been fairly described; and they act accordingly. I think it therefore the duty of every good citizen to stan [...] forth, and endeavour to undeceive the public, when the vilest arts are made use of to defame and blacken the brightest characters among us. An eminent au­thor affirms it to be almost as criminal to bear a worthy man [Page 22]traduced, without attempting his justification, as to be the author of the calumny against him. For my own part, I think it a sort of misprision of treason against society. No man, therefore, who knows Lord Granby, can possible hear so good and great a character most vilely abused, without a warm and just indignation against this Junius, this high-priest of envy, malice, and all uncharitableness, who has en­deavoured to sacrifice our beloved commander in chief at the altars of his horrid deities. Nor is the injury may too soon feel the contempt, and consequently the attacks of our late enemies, if they can be induced to believe that the per­son, on whom the safety of these kingdoms so much de­pends, is unequal to his high station, and destitute of those qualities which form a good general. One would have thought that his Lordship's services in the cause of his coun­try, from the battle of Culloden to his most glorious con­clusion of the late war, might have entitled him to common respect and decency at least: but this uncandid indecent writer has gone so far as to turn one of the most amiable men of the age into a stupid, unfeeling, and senseless being; possessed indeed of a personal courage, but void of those es­sential qualities which distinguish the commander from the common soldier.

A very long, uninterrupted, impartial, I will add, a most disinterested, friendship with Lord Granby, gives me the right to affirms that all Junius's assertions are false and scan­dalous. Lord Granby's courage, though of the brightest and most ardent kind, is among the lowest of his numerous good qualities; he was formed to excel in war by nature's liberality to his mind s well as person. Educated and in­structed by his most noble father, and a most spirited as well as excellent scholar, the present Bishop of Bangor, he was trained to the nicest sense of honour, and to the truest and noblest sort of pride, that of never doing or suffering a mean action. A sincere love and attachment to his king and coun­try, and to their glory, first impelled him to the field, where he never gained aught but honour. He impaired, through his bounty, his own fortune: for his bounty, which this wri­ter would in vain depreciate, is founded upon the noblest of the human affections; it flows from a heart melting to good­ness from the most refined humanity. Can a man, who is [Page 23]described as unfeeling and void of reflection, be constantly employed in seeking proper objects on whom to exercise those glorious virtues of compassion and generosity? The distres­sed officer, the soldier, the [...], the orphan, and a long list besides, know that vanity has no share in his frequent donations; he gives, because he feels their distresses. Nor has he ever been rapacious with one hand, to be bountiful with the other. Yet this uncandid Junius would insinuate, that the dignity of commander in chief is depraved in­to the base office of commission-broker; that is, Lord Gran­by bargains for the sale of commissions: for it must have this meaning, if it has any at all. But where is the man living who can justly charge his Lordship with such mean practices? Why does not Junius produce him: junius knows that he has no other means of wounding this hero, than from some missile weapon, shot from an obscure corner: He seeks, as all defamatory writers do,

to raise a suspicion in the minds of the people. But I hope that my countrymen will be no longer imposed upon by art­ful and designing men, or by wretches, who, bankrupts in business, in fame, and in fortune, mean nothing more than to involve this country in the same common ruin with them­selves. Hence it is, that they are constantly aiming their dark and too often fatal weapons against those who stand forth as the bulwark of our national safety. Lord Granby was too conspicuous a mark not to be their object. He is next attacked for being unfaithful to his promises and en­gagements: Where are Junius's proofs? Although I could give some instances, where a breach of promise would be a virtue, especially in the case of those who would pervert the open, unsuspecting moments of convivial mirth, into sly, in­sidious applications for preferment or party-systems, and would endeavour to surprise a good man, who cannot bear to see any one leave him dissatisfied, into unguarded promi­ses. Lord Granby's attention to his own family and rela­tions is called selfish. Had he not attended to them, when fair and just opportunities presented themselves, I should have thought him unfeeling, and void of reflection indeed. [Page 24]How are any man's friends and relations to be provided for, bat from the influence and protection of the patron? It is unfair to supposed that Lord Granby's friends have art as much merit as the friends of any other great man: If he is generous at the public expence, as Junius insidiously calls it, the public is at no more expence for his Lordship's friends, than it would be if any other set of men possessed those of­fices. The charge is ridiculous!

The last charge against Lord Granby is of a most serious and alarming nature indeed. Junius assorts, that the army is mouldering away for want of the direction of a man of common abilities and spirit. The present condition of the army gives the directest lie to his assertions. It was never up­on a more respectable footing with regard to discipline, and all the essentials that can form good soldiers. Lord Ligonier delivered a firm and noble palladium of our safeties into Lord Granby's hands, who has kept it in the same good order in which he received it. The strictest care has been taken to fill up the vacant commissions, with such gentlemen as have the glory of their ancestors to support, as well as their own, and are doubly bound to the cause of their king and country. from motives of private property, as well as public spirit. The adjutant-general. who has the immediate care of the troops after Lord Granby, is an officer that would do great honour to any service in Europe, for his correct arrange­ments, good sense and discernment upon all occasions, and for a punctuality and precision which give the most entire satisfaction to all who are obliged to consult him. The re­viewing generals. who inspect the army twice a [...]ear, have been selected with the greatest care, and have answered the important trust reposed in them in the most laudable manner. Their reports of the condition of the army are much more to be credited than those of Junius, whom I do advise to atone, for his shameful aspersions, by asking pardon of Lord Gran­by and the whole kingdom, whom he has offended by his abominable scandals. In short, to turn Junius's own battery against him, I must assert, in his own words, "that he has given strong assertions without proof, declamation without argument, and violent censures without dignity or modera­tion."

LETTER III. TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OR THE BATH.

YOUR defence of Lord Granby does honour to the good­ness of your heart. You feel, as you ought to do, for the reputation of your friend, and you express yourself in the warmest language of your passions. In any other cause. I doubt not, you would have cautiously weighed the conse­quences of committing your name to the licentious discour­ses and malignant opinions of the world. But here, I pre­sume, you thought it would be a breach of friendship to lose one moment in consulting your understanding; as if and ap­peal to the public were has no rules to follow but the dictates of his courage. Touched with your generosity, I freely for­give the excesses into which it ha [...]led you: and, far from resenting those terms of reproach, which, considering that you are an advocate for decorum, you have heaped upon me rather too liberally, I place them to the account of an honest unreflecting indignation, in which your cooler judgment and natural politeness had no concern. I approve of the spirit with which you l [...] give your name to the public; and, if it were a proof of any thing but spirit, I should have hoped, that even my name might have [...]ied some authority with it, if I had seen how very little weight or consideration a printed paper receives even from the respectable signature of Sir William Draper.

You begin with a general ass [...]n, that writers, such as I am, are the real cause of all the public evils we complain of. And do you really think. Sir William, that the licentious pen of a political writer is able to produce such important effects? A little calm reflection might have shown you, that national calamities do not arise from the description, but from the real character and conduct, of ministers. To have supported your assertion, you should have proved that the present ministry are unquestionably the best and brightest cha­racters of the kingdom; and that, if the affections of the co­lonies have been alienated, if Corsica has been shamefully [Page 26]abandoned, if commerce languishes, if public cro [...]it is threat­ened with a new debt, and your own Manilla ransom m [...]t dishonourably given up, it has all been owing to the malice of political writers, who will not suffer the be [...] and brigh [...] characters (meaning still the present ministry) to take a single right step for the honour or interest of the nation. But it seems you were a little tender of coming to particulars. Your conscience insinuated to you. that it would be prudent to leave the characters of Grafton, North, Hilsborough, Wey­mouth, and Mansfield to shift for themselves; and truly, Sir William, the part you have undertaken is at least as much is you are equal to.

Without disputing Lord Granby's courage, we are yet to learn in [...]hat articles of military knowledge nature has [...] so very liberal to his mind. If you have served with him, you ought to have pointed out some instances of able [...] and well-concerted enterprise, which might fairly be at­tributed to his capacity as a general. It is you, Sir Willi­am, who make your friend appear a [...]kward and ridiculous, by giving him a l [...]ed suit of tawdry qualifications, which nature never intended him to wear.

You say, he has acquired nothing but honour in the field. Is the Ordnance nothing? Are the Blues nothing? Is the command of the army, with all the patronage an [...]xed to it, nothing? Where he got these [...], I know not; but you at least ought to have told us where he deserted them.

As to his bounty, compassion, &c. it would have been but little to the purpose, though you had proved all that you have asserted. I m [...]ddle with nothing but his character as commander in chief: and, though I acquit him of the baseness of selling commissions, I still assert that his military cares have never extended beyong the disposal of vacancies; and I am justified by the complaints of the whole army, when I say, that in this distribution he consults nothing but parliamentary interest, or the gratification of his immediate dependants. As to his servile submission to the reigning ministry, let me ask, whether he did not desert the cause of the whole army when he suffered Sir Jeffery Amherst to be sacrificed, and what share he had in recalling that officer to the service? Did he not betray the just interest of the army, in permitting Lord Percy to have a regiment? And does he not at this moment give up all character and dignity as a [Page 27]gentleman, in receding from his own repeated declarations in favour of Mr. Wilkes?

In the two next articles I think we are agreed. You can­didly admit, that he often makes such promises as it is a vir­tue in him to violate, and that no man is more assiduous to provide for his relations at the public expence. I did not urge the last as an absolute vice in his dispositios, but to pro [...]e that a careless disinterested spirit is no part of his charac­ter; and as to the other, I [...] it may be remember­ed, that I never descended to he indecency of inquiring in­to his [...]. It is you, Sir William Draper, who have taken care to represent your friend in the character of a drunken landlord, who deals out his promises as liberally as his liquor. and will suffer no man to leave his table either sorrowful or sober. None but an intimate friend, who must frequently have seen him in these unhappy, disgraceful mo­ments, could have described him so well.

The last charge, of the neglect of the army, is indeed the most material of all. I am forty to tell you, Sir William, that, in this article, your first fact is false; and as there is nothing more painful to me than to give a direct contra­diction to a gentleman of your appearance, I could wish that, in your future publications, you would pay a greater atten­tion to the truth of your premises, before you suffer your genius to hurry you to a conclusion. Lord Ligonier did [...] deliver the army (which you, in classical language, are plea­sed to call a palladium) into Lord Granby's hands. It was taken from him much against his inclination, some two or three year before Lord Granby was commander is chief. As to the state of the army, I should be glad to know where you have received your intelligence, Was it in the rooms at Bath, or at your retreat at Clifton? The reports of re­viewing generals comprehend only a few regiments in Eng­land, which, as they are immediately under the royal in­spection. are perhaps in some tolerable order. But do you know any thing of the troop [...] in the West Indies, the Mediterranean, and North America, to say nothing of a whole army absolutely ruined in Ireland? In quire a little in­to facts, Sir William, before you publish your next panegy­ric upon Lord Granby; and believe me, you will [...] is a fault at bead-quarters, which even the acknowledged care and abilities of the adjutant-general cannot correct.

Permit me now, Sir William, to address myself personally to you, by way of thanks for the honour of your corre­spondence. You are by no means undeserving of notice; and it may be of consequence even to Lord Granby to have it de­termined, whether or no the man, who has praised him so lavishly, be himself deserving of praise. When you returned to Europe, you zealously undertook the cause of that gallant army, by whose bravery at Manilla your own fortune had been established. You complained, you threatened, you even appealed to the public in print. By what accident did it happen, that in the midst of all this bustle, and all these cla­mours for justice to your injured troops, the name of the Manilla ransom was suddenly buried in a profound, and, since that time, an uninterrupted silence. Did the ministry sug­gest any motives to you, strong enough to tempt a man of honour to desert and betray the cause of his fellow-soldiers? Was it that blushing riband, which is now the perpetual or­nament of your person? Or was it that regiment, which you afterwards (a thing unprecedented among soldiers) sold to Colonel Gisborne? Or was it that government, the full pay of which you are contented to hold, with the half-pay of an Irish colonel? And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude yourself, unthought-of, uncalled-for, upon the patience of the public? Are your flatteries of the commander in chief directed to another regi­ment, which you may again dispose of on the same honour­able terms? We know your prudence, Sir William, and I should be sorry to stop your preferment.

LETTER IV. TO JUNIUS.

I RECEIVED Junius's favour last night: he is determined to keep his advantage by the help of his mask; it is an ex­cellent protection, it has saved many a man from an untime­ly [Page 29]end. But whenever he will be honest enough to lay it aside, avow himself, and produce the face which has so long lurked behind it, the world will be able to judge of his mo­tives for writing such infamous invectives. His real name will discover his freedom and independency, or his servility to a faction. Disappointed ambition, resentment for de­feated hopes, and desire of revenge, assume but too often the appearance of public spirit; but be his designs wicked or charitable, Junius should learn, that it is possible to con­demn measures, without a barbarous and criminal outrage against men. Junius delights to mangle carcases with a hatchet; his language and instrument have a great connection with Clare-Market, and to do him justice, he handles his weapon most admirably. One would imagine be had been taught to throw it by the savages of America. It is there­fore high time for me to step in once more to shield my friend from this merciless weapon, although I may be wounded in the attempt. But I must first ask Junius, by what forced analogy and construction the moments of convivial mirth are made to signify indecency, a violation of engagements, a drunken landlord, and a desire that every one in company should be drunk likewise? He must have culled all the flow­ers of St. Giles's and Billingsgate to have produced such a piece of oratory. Here the hatchet descends with tenfold vengeance; but, alas! it hurts no one but its master! For Junius must not think to put words into my mouth, that seem too foul even for his own.

My friend's political engagements I know not; so cannot pretend to explain them, or assert their consistency. I know not whether Junius be considerable enough to belong to any party; if he should be so, can he affirm that he has always adhered to one set of men and measures? Is be sure that he has never sided with those whom he was first hired to abuse? Has he never abused those he was hired to praise? To say the truth, most men's politics sit much too loosely about them. But as my friend's military character was the chief object that engaged me in this controversy, to that I shall return.

Junius asks, What instances my friend has given of his military skill and capacity as a general? When and where he gained his honour? When he deserved his emoluments? The united voice of the army which served under him, the glorious testimony of Prince Ferdinand, and of vanquished [Page 30]enemies, all Germany will tell him. Junius repeats the com­plaints of the army against parliamentary influence. I love the army too well, not to wish that such influence were less. Let Junius point out the time when it has not [...]. It was of the least force in the time of that great man, the [...] Duke of Cumberland, who, as a prince of the blood, was able as well as willing to stem a torrent which would have over­borne any private subject. In time of war this influence is small. In peace, when discontent and faction have the sure means to operate, especially in this country, and when, from a scarcity of public spirit the wheels of government are rare­ly moved but by the power and force of obligations, its weight is always too great. Yet if this influence at preseat has done no greater harm than the placing Earl Percy at the head of a regiment, I do not think that either the rights or best interests of the army are sacrificed and [...] or the nation undone. Let me ask Junius, if he [...] any one nobleman in the army, who has had a regiment by seniority? I feel myself happy in seeing young noblemen of illustrate name and great property come among us. They are [...] [...]itional security to the kingdom from foreign or domestic slavery. Junius needs not be told, that should the time ever come, when this nation is to be defended only by those who have nothing more to lose than their arms and their pay, its danger will be great indeed. A happy mixture of men of quality with soldiers of fortune is always to be wished for. But the main point is still to be contended for. I mean the discipline and condition of the army; and I must still maintain, though contradicted by Junius, that it was never upon a more respectable footing, as to all the essentials that can form good soldiers, than it is at present. Junius is forced to allow, that our army at home may be in some tolerable order; yet how kindly does he invite our late enemies to the invasion of Ireland, by assuring them, that the army in that kingdom is totally ruined! (The colonels of that army are much obliged to him.) I have too great an opinion of the military talents of the Lord Lieutenant and of ail their di­ligence and capacity to believe it. If from some strange, unaccountable fatality, the people of that kingdom cannot be induced to consult their own security by such an effectual augmentation as may enable the troops there to act with pow­er and energy, is the commander in chief here to blame? Or [Page 31]is be to blame, because the troops in the Mediterranean, in the West Indies, in America, labour ander great difficulties for the scarcity of men, which is but too visible all over these kingdoms? Many [...] forces are in climates [...] to British constitutions their loss is in proportion. Britain must [...] these regiments from her own emaciated be­som, or, more precariously, by Catholies from Ireland. We are likewise subject to the faral drains to the East Indies, to Senegal, and the alarming emigrations of our people to other countries: Such depopulation can only be repaired by along peace, or by some sensible bill of naturalization.

I must now take the liberty to talk to Junius on my own account. He is pleased to tell me that he addresses himself to me perfectly: I shall be glad to see him. It is his [...] that I complain of and his invisible attacks [...] dagger in the air is only to be reg [...]rd [...] because one cannot see the hand which hadds it; but had it are wounded other people more deeply then myself, I should not have obtruded myself at all on the patience of the [...].

M [...]k how a plain tale shall pot him down, and transfuse the Hush of my riband into his own cheeks. Junius tells me, that at my return. I [...] undertook the cause of the gallant army by whose bravery at Manilla my can fortunes were established: that I complained, that I even appealed to the public. I did so; I glory in having done so, as I had an undoubted right to vindicate my own character attacked by a Spanish memorial, and to assert the rights of my brave [...]. I glory likewise, that I have never taken up my open, but to vindicate the injured. Junius asks by what accident did it happen, therein the midst of all this bustle, and all the clamours for justice to the injured troops, the Manilla ransom was suddenly [...] in a profound, and, since that time, in uninterrupted silence? I will explain the cause to the [...]. The several ministers who have been employed since that [...] have been very desirous to do jus­tice, from two most [...] motives; a strong inclination to assist injured bravery, and to acquire a well deserved po­pularity to themselves. Their efforts have been in vain. Some were ingenuous enough to own, that they could not think of involving this distressed nation into another [...] for our private concerns. In short, our rights for the present are sacrificed to national convenience; and I must confess, [Page 32]that although I may lose five-and-twenty thousand pounds by their acquiescence to this breach of faith in the Spaniards, I think they are in the right to temporize, considering the critical situation of this country, convulsed in every part by poison infused by anonymous, wicked, and incendiary wri­ters. Lord Shelburne will do me the justice to own, that, in September last, I waited upon him with a joint memori­al from the admiral Sir S. Cornish and myself, in behalf of our injured companions. His lordship was as frank upon the occasion as other secretaries had been before him. He did not deceive us by giving any immediate hopes of relief.

Junius would basely insinnate, that my silence may have been purchased by my government, by my blushing riband, by my regiment, by the sale of that regiment, and by half-pay as an Irish colonel.

His majesty was pleased to give me my government for my service at Madras. I had my first regiment in 175 [...]. Upon my return from Manilla, his Majesty, by Lord Egremont, informed me that I should have the first vacant red riband, as a reward for many services in an enterprize which I had planned as well as executed. The Duke of Bedford and Mr. Grenville confirmed those assurances many months before the Spaniards had protested the ransom bills. To accommodate Lord Clive, then going upon a most important service to Bengal, I waved my claim to the vacancy which then hap­pened. As there was no other vacancy until the Duke of Graf [...]on and Lord Rockingham were joint ministers, I was then honoured with the order: and it is surely no small ho­nour to me, that in such a succession of ministers, they were all pleased to think that I had deserved it: in my favour they were all united. Upon the reduction of the 79th regiment, which had served so gloriously in the East Indies, his Ma­jesty, unsolicited by me, gave me the 16th of foot as an equivalent. My motives so retiring afterwards are foreign to the purpose: Het it suffice, that his Majesty was pleased to approve of them; they are such as no man can think inde­cent, who knows the shocks that repeated vicissitudes of heat and cold, of dangerous and sickly climates, will give to the best constitutions in a pretty long course of service. I re­signe [...]d my regiment to Colonel Gisborne, a very good officer, for his half-pay, 200 l. Irish annuity; so that, according to Junius, I have been bribed to say nothing more of the Ma­nilla [Page 33]ransom, and sacrifice those brave men, by the strange avarice of accepting three hundred and eighty pounds per an­num, and giving up eight hundred! If this be bribery, it is not the bribery of these times. As to my flattery, those who know me will judge of it. By the asperity of Junius's style, I cannot indeed call him a flatterer, unless be be as a cynick, or a mastiff; if he wags his tail, he will still growl and long to bite. The public will now judge of the credit that ought to be given to Junius's writings, from the falsities that he has infinuated with respect to myself.

LETTER V. TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATE.

I SHOULD justly be suspected of acting upon motives of more than common enmity to Lord Granby, if I continued to give you fresh materials or occasion for writing in his de­fence. Individuals who hate, and the public who despise, have read your letters, Sir William, with infinitely more satis­faction than mine. Unfortunately for him, his reputation, like that unhappy country to which you refer me for his last military atchievements, has suffered more by his friends than his enemies. In mercy to him, let us drop the subject. For my own part, I willingly leave it to the public to determine whether your vindication of your friend has been as able and judicious, as it was certainly well intended; and you, I think, may be satissied with the warm acknowledgments he already owes you for making him the principal figure in a piece, in which, but for your amicable assistance, he might have passed without particular notice or distinction.

In justice to your friends, let your future labours be con­fined to the care of your own reputation. Your declaration, that you are happy in seeing young noblemen come among us, is liable to two objections. With respect to Lord Percy, it means nothing, for he was already in the army. He was aid-de-camp to the King, and had the rank of colonel. A [Page 34]regiment therefore could not make him a more military are though it made him richer, and probably at the expence of some brave, deserving, friendless officer.—The other con­cerns yourself.—After selling the companions of your victo­ry in one instance, and after selling your profession in the other, by what authority do you presume to call yourself a soldier? The plain evidence of facts is superior to all decla­rations. Before you were appointed to the 16th regiment, your complaints were a distress to government;—from that moment you were silent. The conclusion is inevitable. You insinuate to us that your ill state of health obliged you to quit the service. The retirement necessary to repair a broken constitution would have been as good a reason for not accepting, as for resigning, the command of a regiment. There is certainly an error of the press, or an affected ob­scurity in that paragraph, where you speak of your bargain with Colonel Gisborne. Instead of artempting to answer what I do not really understand, permit me to explain to the public what I really know. In exchange for your regi­ment, you accepted of a colonel's half-pay (at least 220 l. a year) and an annuity of 200 l. for your own and Lady Dra­per's life jointly.—And is this the losing bargain, which you would represent to us, as if you had given up an in­come of 800 l. a year for 380 l.? Was it decent, was it ho­nourable, in a man who pretends to love the army, and calls himself a soldier, to make a traffic of the royal favour, and turn the highest honour of an active profession into a sordid prori [...]ion for himself and his family? It were unworthy of me to press you farther. The contempt with which the whole army heard of the manner of your retreat, assures me, that as your conduct was not justified by precedent, it will never be thought an example for imitation.

The last and most important question remains. When you receive your half-pay, do you, or do you not, take a solemn oath, or sign a declaration, upon your honour, to the following effect? That you do not actually hold any place of profit, civil or military, under his Majesty. The charge which the question plainly conveys against you, is of so shocking a complexion, that I sincerely wish you may be able to an­swer it well, not merely for the colour of your reputation, but for your own peace of mind.

LETTER VI. TO JUNIUS.

I HAVE a very short answer for Junius's important ques­tion: I do not either take an oath, or decla [...] upon ho­nour, that I have no place of profit, [...], when I receive the half-pay as an Irish colonel. My [...] Sovereign gives it me as a pension: he was pleased to think I deserved it. The annuity of 200 l. Irish, and the equiva­lent for the half-pay together, preduce no more than 380 l. per annum, clear of sees and perquisites of office I receive 167 l. from my government of Yarmouth. Total 547 l. per annum. My conscience is much at case in these parti­culars: my friends need not blush for me.

Junius moles much and frequent use of interrogations: they are [...] that may be easily turned against himself. I could, by malicious interrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtnous man in the kingdom. I could take the decalogue, and say to one man, Did you never steal? To the next, Did you never commit murder? And to Junius himself, who is putting my life and conduct to the rack, Did you never bear false witness against thy neighbour? Junius most easi­ly see, that unless he affirms to the contrary in his real name, some people who may be as ignorant of him as I am, will be apt to suspect him of having deviated a little from the truth: therefore let Junius ask no more questions. You bite against a file: cease, viper.

LETTER VII. TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATH.

AN academical education has given you an unlimited com­mand over the most beautiful figures of speech. Masks, hatchets, racks, and vipers, dance through your letters in all [Page 36]the mazes of metaphorical confusion. These are the gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination; the melancholy mad­ness of poetry without the inspiration. I will not contend with you in point of composition. You are a scholar, Sir William; and, if I am rightly informed, you write Latin with almost as much purity as English. Suffer me, then, for I am a plain unlettered man, to continue that style of inter­rogation, which suits my capacity, and to which, consider­ing the readiness of your answers, you ought to have no ob­jection. Even Mr. Bingly ^* promises to answer, if pat to the torture.

Do you then really think, that, if I were to ask a most [...] man whether he ever committed theft, or murder, it would disturb his peace of mind? Such a question might per­haps discompose the gravity of his muscles, but I believe it would little affect the tranquility of his conscience. Exa­mine your own breast, Sir William, and you will discover, that reproaches and inquiries have no power to afflict either the man of unblemished intregrity, or the abandoned profligate. It is the middle compound character which alone is vulnerable; the man, who without firmness enough to avoid a dishonour­able action, has feeling enough to be ashamed of it.

I thank you for the hint of the decalogue, and shall take an opportunity of applying it to some of your most virtuous friends in both houses of Parliament.

You seem to have dropped the affair of your regiment; so let it rest. When you are appointed to another, I dare say you will not sell it either for a gross sum, or for an annuity upon lives.

I am truly glad (for really, Sir William, I am not your enemy, not did I begin this contest with your that you have been able to clear yourself of a crime, though at the expence of the highest indiscretion. You say that your half-pay was given you by way of pension. I will not dwell upon the singularity of uniting in your own person two forts of provi­sion, which in their own nature, and in all military and par­liamentary views, are incompatible: but I call upon you to justify that declaration, wherein you charge your Sovereign with having done an act in your favour notoriously against [Page 37]the law. The half-pay, both in Ireland and England, is ap­propriated by Parliament; and if it be given to persons who, like you, are legally incapable of holding it, it is a breach of law. It would have been more decent in you to have called this dishonourable transaction by its true name, a job to ac­commodate two persons, by particular interest and manage­ment at the castle. What sense must government have had of your services, when the rewards they have given you are on­ly a disgrace to you!

And now, Sir William, I shall take my leave of you for ever. Motives very different from any apprehension of your resentment, make it impossible you should ever know me. In truth, you have some reason to hold yourself indebted to me. From the lessons I have given you, you may collect a profitable instruction for your future life. They will either teach you so to regulate your conduct, as to be able to set the most malicious inquiries at defiance; or, if that be a lost hope, they will teach you prudence enough not to attract the public attention to a character, which will only pass without censure, when it passes without observation.

LETTER VIII. TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

BEFORE you were placed at the head of affairs, it had been a maxim of the English government, not unwil­lingly admitted by the people, that every ungracious or se­vere exertion of the prerogative should be placed to the ac­count of the Minister; but that, whenever an act of grace or benevolence was to be performed, the whole merit of it should be attributed to the Sovereign himself ^*. It was a wise doctrine, my Lord, and equally advantageous to the King and his subject; for while it preserved that suspicious attention, with which the people ought always to examine the conduct of ministers, it tended at the same time rather to increase than diminish their attachment to the person of their Sovereign. If there be not a fatality attending every measure you are concerned in, by what treachery, or by what excess of folly, has it happened, that those ungracious acts which have distinguished your administration, and which I doubt not were entirely your own, should carry with then a strong appearance of personal interest, and even of perso­nal enmity, in a quarter where no such interest or enmity can be supposed to exist without the highest injustice and the highest dishonour? On the other hand, by what injudicious management have you contrived it, that the only act of mer­cy, to which you have ever advised your Sovereign, far from adding to the lustre of a character truly gracious and bene­volent, should be received with universal disapprobation and disgust? I shall consider it as a ministerial measure, because it is an odious one; and as your measure, my Lord Duke, because you are the minister.

As long as the trial of this chairman was depending, it was natural enough that government should give him every possible encouragement and support. The honourable service for which he was hired, and the spirit with which he per­formed it, made a common cause between your Grace and [Page 39]him. The minister, who by secret corruption invades the freedom of elections, and the ruffian, who by open violence destroys that freedom, are embarked in the same bottom. They have the same interests, and mutually feel for each other. To do justice to your Grace's humanity, you felt for M'Quirk as you ought to do; and if you had been con­tented to assist him indirectly, without a notorious denial of justice, or openly insulting the sense of the nation, you might have satisfied every duty of political friendship, without com­muting the honour of your Sovereign, or hazarding the re­putation of his government. But when this unhappy man had been solemnly tried, convicted, and condemned;—when it appeared that he had been frequently employed in the same services, and that no excuse for him could be drawn either from the innocence of his former life, or the simplicity of his character; was it not hazarding too much to interpose the strength of the prerogative between this felon and the justice of his country ^*? You ought to have known that an [Page 40]example of this sort was never so necessary as at present; and certainly you must have known that the lot could not have fallen upon a more guilty object. What system of govern­ment is this? You are perpetually complaining of the riot­ous disposition of the lower class of people; yet when the laws have given you the means of making an example in every sense unexceptionable, and by far the most likely to awe the multitude, you pardon the offence, and are not ashamed to give the sanction of government to the riots you complain of, and even to future murders. You are partial perhaps to the military mode of execution; and had rather see a score of these wretches butchered by the guards, than one of them suffer death by regular course of law. How does it happen, my Lord, that, in your hands, even the mer­cy of the prerogative is cruelty and oppression to the subject?

The measure, it seems, was so extraordinary, that you thought it necessary to give some reasons for it to the public. Let them be fairly examined.

1. You say that Messrs Bromfield and Starling were not ex­amined at M'Quirk's trial, I will tell your Grace why they were not. They must have been examined upon oath; and it was foreseen, that their evidence would either not benefit, or might be prejudicial to the prisoner. Otherwise is it conceivable that his counsel should neglect to call in such material evidence?

You say that Mr. Fact did not see the deceased until after his death. A surgeon, my Lord, must know very little of his profession, if upon examining a wound or a con [...]usion, he cannot determine whether it was mortal or not.—While the party is alive, a surgeon will be cautions of pronouncing; whereas by the death of the patient, he is enabled to consi­der both cause and effect in one view, and to speak with a certainty confirmed by experience.

Yet we are to thank your Grace for the establishment of a new tribunal. Your inquis [...] post [...] is unknown to the laws of England, and does honour to your invention. The only material objection to it is, that if Mr. Foot's evi­dence was insufficient, because he did not examine the wound till after the death of the party, much less can a negative opinion, given by gentlemen who never saw the body of Mr. Clarke, either before or after his decease, authorise you to supercede the verdict of a jury, and the sentence of the law.

Now, my Lord, let me ask you, Has it never occurred to your Grace, while you were withdrawing this desperate wretch from that justice which the laws had awarded, and which the whole people of England demanded against him, that there is another man, who is the favourite of his coun­try, whose pardon would have been accepted with gratitude, whose pardon would have healed all our divisions? Have you quite forgotten that this man was once your Grace's friend; Or is it to murderers only that you will extend the mercy of the crown?

These are questions you will not answer, nor is it necessa­ry. The character of your private life, and the tenor of your public conduct, is an answer to them all.

LETTER IX. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

I HAVE so good an opinion of your Grace's discernment, that when the author of the vindication of your conduct assures us, that he writes from his own mere motion, with­out [Page 42]the least authority from your Grace, I should be ready enough to believe him but for one fatal mark, which seems to be [...]ixed upon every measure in which either your personal or your political character is concerned.—Your first attempt to support Sir William Proctor ended in the election of Mr. Wilkes; the second insured success to Mr. G [...]y [...]an. The ex­traordinary step you took to make Sir James Lowther lord paramount of Cumberland, has ruined his interest in that county for ever. The House List of Directors was cursed with the concurrence of government; and even the miserable ^* Dingley could not escape the misfortune of your Grace's protection. With this uniform experience before us, we are authorised to suspect, that when a pretended vindication of your principles and conduct in reality contains the bitterest reflections upon both, it could not have been written without your immediate direction and assistance. The author indeed calls God to witness for him, with all the sincerity and in the very terms of an Irish evidence, to the best of his knowledge and belief. My Lord, you should not encourage these appeals to Heaven. The pious Prince from whom you are supposed to descend, made such frequent use of them in his public de­clarations, that at last the people also found it necessary to appeal to Heaven in their turn. Your administration has driven us into circumstances of equal distress; beware at least how you remind us of the remedy.

You have already much to answer for. You have pro­voked this unhappy gentleman to play the fool once more in public life, in spite of his years and infirmities; and to show us, that, as you yourself are a singular instance of youth without spirit, the man who defends you is a no less remarkable example of age without the benefits of experi­ence. To follow such a writer minutely would, like his own periods, be a labour without end. The subject too has been already discussed, and is sufficiently understood. I can­not help observing, however, that, when the pardon of M'Quirk was the principal charge against you, it would have been but a decent compliment to your Grace's under­standing, to have defended you upon your own principles. [Page 43]What credit does a man deserve, who tells us plainly, that the facts set forth in the King's proclamation were not the true motives on which the pardon was granted; and that he wish­es that those chirurgical reports, which first gave occasion to certain doubts in the royal breast, had not been laid before his Majesty. You see, my Lord, that even your friends cannot defend your actions, without changing your princi­ples; nor justify a deliberate measure of government, with­out contradicting the main assertion on which it was founded.

The conviction of M'Quirk had reduced you to a dilem­ma, in which it was hardly possible for you to reconcile your political interest with your duty. You were obliged either to abandon an active useful partizan, or to protect a felon from public justice. With your usual spirit, you preferred your interest to every other consideration; and with your usual judgment, you founded your determination upon the only motives which should not have been given to the public.

I have frequently censured Mr. Wilkes's conduct; yet your advocate reproaches me with having devoted myself to the service of sedition. Your Grace can best inform us, for which of Mr. Wilkes's good qualities you first honoured him with your friendship, or how long it was before you disco­vered those bad ones in him at which, it seems, your deli­cacy was offended. Remember, my Lord, that you conti­nued your connection with Mr. Wilkes long after he had been convicted of those crimes which you have since taken pains to represent in the blackest colours of blasphemy and treason. How unlucky is it that the first instance you have given us of a scrupulous regard to decorum, is united with the breach of a moral obligation! For my own part, my Lord, I am proud to affirm, that if I had been weak enough to form such a friendship, I would never have been base enough to betray it. But let Mr. Wilkes's character be what it may, this at least is certain, that, circumstanced as he is with regard to the public, even his vices plead for him. The people of England have too much discernment to suffer your Grace to take advantage of the failings of a private character, to establish a precedent by which the public liberty is af­fected, and which you may hereafter, with equal ease and satisfaction, employ to the ruin of the best men in the king­dom.—Context yourself, my Lord, with the many advan­tages [Page 44]which the unsullied purity of your own character has given you over your unhappy deserted friend. Avail yourself of all the unforgiving piety of the court you live in, and bless God that you ‘are not as other men are; extortioners, un­just, “ ”adulterers, or even as this publican.’ In a heart void of feeling, the laws of honour and good faith may be violated with impunity, and there you may safely indulge your genius. But the laws of England shall not be violated, even by your holy zeal to oppress a sinner; and though you have succeeded in making him a [...]ool, you shall not make him the victim of your ambition.

LETTER X, TO MR. EDWARD WESTON.

I SAID you were an old man without the benefit of expe­rience. It seems you are also a volunteer with the stipend of twenty commissions; and, at a period when all prospects are at an end, you are still looking fo [...]ward to rewards which you cannot enjoy. No man is better acquainted with the bounty of government than you are.

But I will not descend to an altercation either with the impotence of your age, or the peevishness of your diseases. Your pamphlet, ingenious as it is, has been so little read, that the public cannot know how far you have a right to give me the lie, without the following citation of your own words.

Page 6— ‘1. That he is persuaded that the motives, which “he (Mr. Weston) has alledged, must appear fully sufficient, ”with or without the opinions of the surgeons.’

‘“2. That those very motives MUST HAVE BEEN the foun­dation ”on which the Earl of Rochford though proper, &c.’

‘“That he CANNOT BUT REGRET that the Earl of Roch­ford seems to have thought proper to lay the chirurgi [...]al re­ports before the King, in preference to all the other suffici­ent ”motives,’ &c.

Let the public determine, whether this be defending go­vernment on their principles or your own.

The style and language you have adopted are, I confess, not ill suited to the elegance of your own manners, or to the dig­nity of the cause you have undertaken. Every common daub­er writes rascal and villain under his pictures, because the pic­tures themselves have neither character not resemblance. But the works of a master require no index. His features and co­louring are taken from nature. The impression they make is immediate and uniform; nor is it possible to mistake his characters, whether they represent the treachery of a minister, at the abused simplicity of a king.

LETTER XI. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

THE system you seemed to have adopted, when Lord Chatham unexpectedly left you at the head of affairs, gave us no promise of that uncommon exertion of vigour, which has since illustrated your character, and distinguished your administration. Far from discovering a spirit bold enough to invade the first rights of the people and the first principles of the constitution, you were scrupulous of exer­cising even those powers with which the executive branch of the legislature is legally invested. We have not yet forgotten how long Mr. Wilkes was suffered to appear at large, nor how long he was at liberty to canvass for the city and county, with all the terrors of an outlawry hanging over him. Our Gracious Sovereign has not yet forgotten the extraordinary care you took of his dignity and of the safety of his person, when, at a crisis which courtiers affected to call alarming, you left the metropolis exposed, for two nights together, to every species of riot and disorder. The security of the Royal resi­dence from insult was then sufficiently provided for in Mr. Conway's firmness, and Lord Weymouth's discretion; while the prime minister of Great Britain, in a rural retirement, and in the arms of faded beauty, had lost all memory of his Sovereign, his country, and himself. In these instances you [Page 46]might have acted with vigour, for you would have had the fanction of the laws to support you. The friends of govern­ment might have defended you without shame; and moderate men, who wish well to the peace and good order of society, might have had a pretence for applauding your conduct. But these, it seems, were not occasions worthy of your Grace's in­terposition. You reserved the proofs of your intrepid spirit for trials of greater hazard and importance; and now, as if the most disgraceful relaxation of the executive authority had given you a claim of credit to indulge in excesses still more dangerous, you seem determined to compensate amply for your former negligence, and to balance the non-execution of the laws with a breach of the constitution. From one ex­treme you suddenly start to the other, without leaving, be­tween the weakness and the fury of the passions, one moment's interval for the firmness of the understanding.

These observations, general as they are, might easily be extended into a faithful history of your Grace's administrati­on, and perhaps may be the employment of a future hour. But the business of the present moment will not suffer me to look back to a series of events, which cease to be interesting or important, because they are succeeded by a measure so sin­gularly [...]aring, that it excites all our attention, and engrosses all our resentment,

Your patronage of Mr. Luttrell has been crowned with success. With this precedent before you, with the principles on which it was established, and with a future House of Com­mons, perhaps less virtuous than the present, every county in England, under the auspices of the treasury, may be repre­sented as completely as the county of Middlesex. Posterity will be indebted to your Grace for not contenting yourself with a temporary expedient, but entailing upon them the im­mediate blessings of your administration. Boroughs were already too much at the mercy of government. Counties could neither be purchased nor intimidated. But their so­lemn determined election may be rejected, and the man they detest may be appointed, by another choice, to represent them in Parliament. Yet it is admitted, that the sheriffs obeyed the laws, and performed their duty ^*. The return they made [Page 47]must have been legal and valid, or undoubtedly they would have been censured for making it. With every good-natured allowance for your Grace's youth and inexperience, there are some things which you cannot but know. You cannot but know that the right of the freeholders to adhere to their choice (even supposing it improperly exerted) was as clear and in­disputable as that of the House of Commons to exclude one of their own members?—Nor is it possible for you not to see the wide distance there is between the negative power of re­jecting one man, and the positive power of appointing an­other. The right of expulsion, in the most favourable sense, is no more than the custom of Parliament. The right of election is the very essence of the constitution. To violate that right, and much more to transfer it to any other set of men, is a step leading immediately to the dissolution of all government. So far forth as it operates, it constitutes a House of Commons which does not represent the people. A House of Commons so formed would involve a contradiction and the grossest confusion of ideas; but there are some ministers, my Lord, whose views can only be answered by reconciling ab­surdities, and making the same proposition, which is false and absurd in argument, true in fact.

This measure, my Lord, is however attended with one consequence favourable to the people, which I am persuaded you did not foresee ^*. While the contest say between the mi­nistry and Mr. Wilkes, his situation and private character gave you advantages over him, which common candour, if not the memory of your former friendship, should have forbidden you to make use of. To religious men, you had an opportunity of exaggerating the irregularities of his past life;—to mo­derate men, you held forth the pernicious consequences of faction. Men, who with this character looked no farther than to the object before them, were not dissatisfied at seeing Mr. Wilkes excluded from Parliament. You have now taken care to shift the question; or rather, you have created a new one, in which Mr. Wilkes is no more concerned than any other English gentleman. You have united this country against you on one grand constitutional point, on the deci­sion of which our existence, as a free people, absolutely de­peads. You have asserted, not in words but in fact, that [Page 48]the representation in Parliament does not depend upon the choice of the freeholders. If such a case can possibly happen once, it may happen frequently; it may happen always:—and if three hundred rotes, by any mode of reasoning what­soever, can prevail against twelve hundred, the same reason­ing would equally have given Mr. Luttrell his seat with [...] votes, or even with one. The consequences of this attack upon the constitution, are too plain and palpable not to alarm the dullest apprehension. I trust you will find, that the people of England are neither deficient in spirit nor under­standing, though you have treated them as if they had nei­ther sense to feel, nor spirit to resent. We have reason to thank God and our ancestors, that there never yet was a mi­nister in this country, who could stand the issue of such a conflict: and with every prejudice in favour of your intenti­ons, I see o such abilities in your Grace, as should entitle you to succ [...] in an enterprize, in which the ablest and [...] of your predecessors have found their de [...]truction. You may continue to deceive your gracious M [...]stes with false repre­sentations of the temper and condition of his subjects. You may command a venal vote, because it is the common esta­blished appendage of your office. But never hope that the freeholders will make a tame surrender of their [...], or that an English army will join with you in overt [...]ing the liberties of their country. They know that their first duty as citizens, is paramount to all subsequent engagements; nor will they prefer the discipline or even the honours of their profession to those sacred original rights, which belonged to them before they were soldiers, and which they claim and possess as the birth-right of Englishmen.

Return, my Lord, before it be too late, to that easy in­sipid system which you first set out with. Take back your ^* mistress;—the name of friend may be fatal to her, for it leads to treachery and persecution. Indulge the people. Attend Newmarket. Mr. Luttrell may again vacate his seat; and Mr. Wilkes, if not persecuted, will soon be forgotten. To be weak and inactive, is safer than to be daring and cri­mi [...] ▪ and wide is the distance between a riot of the popu­lace [Page 49]and a convulsion of the whole kingdom. You may live to make the experiment, but no honest man can wish you should survive it.

LETTER XII. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

IF the measures in which you have been most successful, had been supported by any tolerable appearance of argu­ment, I should have thought my time not ill employed, in continuing to examine your conduct as a minister, and stat­ing it fairly to the public. But when I see questions of the highest national importance carried as they have been, and the first principles of the constitution openly violated, with­out argument or decency, I confess I give up the cause in despair. The meanest of your predecessors had abilities suf­ficient to give a colour to their measures, if they invaded the rights of the people, they did not dare to offer a direct insult to their understanding; and in former times, the most venal Parliaments made it condition, in their bargain with the minister, that he should furnish them with some plausible pretences for selling their country and themselves. You have had the merit of introducing a more compendious system of government and logic. You neither address yourself to the passions, nor to the understanding, but simply to the touch. You apply yourself immediately to the feelings of your friends; who, contrary to the forms of Parliament, never enter heartily into a debate, until they have divided.

Relinquishing, therefore, all idle views of amendment to your Grace, or of benefit to the public, let me be permitted to consider your character and conduct merely as a subject of cu [...]ious speculation.—There is something in both, which dis­tinguishes you not only from all other ministers, but all other men; it is not that you do wrong by design, but that you should never do right by mistake. It is not that your indo­lence and your activity have been equally misapplied; but that the first uniform principle, or if I may call it the genius of your life, should have carried you through every possible [Page 50]change and contradiction of conduct, without the momenta­ry imputation or colour of a virtue; and that the wildest spi­rit of inconsistency should never once have betrayed you in [...] a wise or honourable action. This I own gives an air of sin­gularity to your fortune as well as to your disposition. Let as look back together to a scene in which a mind like yours will find nothing to repent of. [...]et us try, my Lord, how well [...] have supported the various relations in which you stood, [...] your Sovereign, your country, your friends, and yourself Give us, if it be possible, some excuse to posterity, and to ourselves, for submitting to your administration. If not the abilities of a great minister, if not the integrity of a patriot or the fidelity of a friend, show us at least the firmness of a man.—For the sake of your mistress, the lover shall be spa­red. I will not lead her into public, as you have done, not will I insult the memory of departed beauty. Her sex, which alone made her amiable in your eyes, makes her respectable in mine.

The character of the reputed ancestors of some men, has made it possible for some men to be vicious in the extreme, without being degenerate. Those of your Grace, for in­stance, left no distressing examples of virtue even to their le­gitimate posterity: and you may look back with pleasure to an illustrious pedigree, in which heraldry has not left a sin­gle good quality upon record to insult or upbraid you. You have better proofs of your descent, my Lord, than the regis­ter of a marriage, or any troublesome inheritance of reputa­tion. There are some hereditary strokes of character, by which a family may be as clearly distinguished as by the blackest features of the human face. Charles the First lived and died a hypocrite. Charles the Second was a hypocrite of another sort, and should have died upon the same scaffold. At the distance of a century, we see their different characters happily revived and blended in your Grace. Sullen and se­vere without religion, profligate without gaity. [...] live like Charles the Second, without being an amiable compa­ [...]on; and, for aught I know, may die as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr.

You had already taken your degrees with credit in those schools in which the English nobility are formed to virtue, when you were introduced to Lord Chatham's pro­tection ^*. [Page 51]From Newmarket, White's, and the opposition, he gave you to the world with an air of popularity, which young men usually set out with, and seldom preserve:—grave and plausible enough to be thought fit for business; too young for treachery; and, in short, a patriot of no unpro­mising expectations, Lord Chatham was the earliest object of your political wonder and attachment; yet you deserted him, upon the first hopes that offered of an equal share of power with Lord Rockingham. When the Duke of Cumberland's first negociation failed, and when the favourite was pushed to the last extremity, you saved him by joining with an ad­ministration in which Lord Chatham had refused to engage. Still, however, he was your friend: and you are yet to ex­plain to the world, why you consented to act without him; or why, after uniting with Lord Rockingham, you deserted and betrayed him. You complained that no measures were taken to satisfy your patron; and that your friend Mr. Wilkes, who had suffered so much for the party, had been abandoned to his fate. They have since contributed, not a little to your present plenitude of power: yet I think Lord Chatham has less reason than ever to be satisfied; and as for Mr. Wilkes, it is, perhaps, the greatest misfortune of his life that you should have so many compensations to make in the closet for your former friendship with him. Your gra­cious master understands your character, and makes you a persecutor, because you have been a friend.

Lord Chatham formed his last administration upon princi­ples which you certainly concurred in, or you could never have been placed at the head of the treasury. By deserting those principles, and by acting in direct contradiction to them, in which he found you were secretly supported in the closet, you soon forced him to leave you to yourself, and to withdraw his name from an administration which had been formed on the credit of it. You had then a prospect of friendships better suite to your genius, and more likely to fix your disposition. Marriage is the point on which every rake is stationary at last: and truly, my Lord, you may well be weary of the circuit you have taken; for you have now fairly travelled through every sign in the political zodi­ac, [Page 52]from the Scorpion, in which you stung Lord Chatham, to the hopes of a Virgin ^* in the house of Bloomsbury. One would think that you had had sufficient experience of the frailty of nuptial engagements; or, at least, that such a friendship as the Duke of Bedford's might have been secured to you by the auspicious marriage of your late Duchess with his ^† nephew. But ties of this tender nature cannot be drawn too close; and it may possibly be a part of the Duke of Bedford's ambition, after making her an honest woman, to work a miracle of the same sort upon your Grace. This worthy nobleman has long dealt in virtue. There has been a large consumption of it in his own family; and, in the way of traffic, I da [...]e say he has bought and sold more than half the representative integrity of the nation.

In a political view, this union is not imprudent. The favour of princes is a perishable commodity. You have now a strength sufficient to command the closet; and if it be necessary to betray one friendship more, you may for even Lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stuart Mackenzie may [...] remember what use the Duke of Bedford usually makes of his power; and our gracious Sovereign, I doubt not, rejoices at this first appearance of union among his servants. His late Majesty, under the happy influence of a family connecti­on between his ministers, was relieved from the cares of the government. A more active prince may perhaps observe, with suspicion, by what degrees an artful servant grows up­on his master, from the first unlimited professions of duty and attachment, to the painful representation of the necessity of the ro [...]al service, and soon, in regular progression, to the humble insolence of dictating in all the obsequious forms of peremptory submission. The interval is carefully employed in forming connections, creating interests, collecting a party, and laving the foundation of double marriages; until the deluded prince, who thought he had found a creature prosti­tuted to his service, and insignificant enough to be always dependent upon his pleasure, finds him at last too strong to be commanded, and too formidable to be removed.

You Grace's public conduct, as a minister, is but the counter part of your private history;—the same inconsistency, the same contradictions. In America, we trace you, from the first opposition to the Stamp-Act, on principles of con­venience, to Mr. Pitt's surrender of the right: then forward to Lord Rockingham's surrender of the fact; then back again to Lord Rockingham's declaration of the right; then for­ward to taxation with Mr. Townshend; and, in the last in­stance, from the gentle Conway's undetermined discretion, to blood and compulsion with the Duke of Bedford: Yet, if we may believe the simplicity of Lord North's eloquence, at the opening of next sessions you are once more to be the patron of America. Is this the wisdom of a great minister? or is it the ominous vibration of a pendulum? Had you no opinion of your own, my Lord? or was it the gratification of betraying every party with which you have been united, and of deserting every political principle in which you had concurred?

Your enemies may turn their eyes without regret from this admirable system of provincial government. They will find gratification enough in the sur [...]ey of your domestic and foreign policy.

If, instead of disowning Lord Shelburne, the British Court had interposed with dignity and firmness, you know, my Lord, that Corsica would never have been invaded. The French saw the weakness of a distracted ministry, and were justified in treating you with contempt. They would pro­bably have yielded in the first instance, rather than hazard a rupture with this country; but, being once engaged, they cannot retreat, without dishonour. Common sense fores [...]es consequences which have escaped your Grace's penetration. Either we suffer the French to make an acquisition, the im­portance of which you have probably no conception of; or we oppose them by an underhand management, which only disgraces us in the eyes of Europe, without answering any purpose of policy or prudence. From secret, in street assistance, a transition to some more open decisive measures becomes unavoidable; till at last we find ourselves princi­pal in the war, and are obliged to hazard every thing for an object which might have originally been obtained without expence or danger. I am not versed in the polities of the north; but this I believe is certain, that half the money you [Page 54]have distributed to carry the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, or even you secretary's share in the last subscription, would ha [...]e kept the Turks at your devotion. Was it oeconomy, my Lord? or did the coy resistance you have constantly met with in the Britis [...] senate, make you despair of co [...]pting the Divan? Your friends indeed have the first claim upon your bounty; but if five hundred pounds a year can be spared in pension to sir John Moore, it would not have disgraced you to have allowed something to the secret service of the public.

You will say, perhaps, that the situation of affairs at home demanded and engrossed the whole of your attention. Here, I confess, you have been active. An amiable, accomplished prince ascends the throne under the happiest of all auspices, the acclamations and united affections of his subjects. The first measures of his reign, and even the odium of a favourite, were not able to shake their attachment. Your services, my Lord, have been more successful. since you were permitted to take the lead, we have seen the natural effects of a system of government at once both odious an contemptible. We have seen the laws sometimes scandalously relaxed, sometimes violently stretched beyond their tone. We have seen the per­son of the Sovereign insulted: and in profound peace, and with an undisputed title, the fidelity of his subjects brought by his own servants into public question ^*. Without abilities, resolution, or interest, you have done more than Lord Bute could accomplish with all Scotland at his heels.

Your Grace, little anxious, perhaps, either for present or future reputation, will not desire to be handed own in these colours to posterity. You have reason to flatter yourself that the memory of your administration will survive even the forms of a constitution which our ancestors vainly hoped would be immortal: and as for your personal character, I will not, for the honour of human nature, suppose that you can wish to have it remembered. The condition of the present times is desperate indeed: but there is a debt due to those who come after us; and it is the historian's office to punish, though he cannot correct. I do not give you to posterity as a pattern to [Page 55]imitate, but as an example to deter; and as your conduct com­prehends every thing that a wise or honest minister should a­void, I mean to make you a negative instruction to your suc­cessors for ever.

LETTER XIII. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE Duke of Grafton's friends, not finding it conveni­ent to enter into a contest with Junius, are now reduced to the last melancholy resource of defeated argument, the flat general charge of scurrility and falsehood. As for his style, I [...] leave it to the critics. The truth of his facts is of more importance to the public. They are of such a nature, that I think a hare contradiction will have no weight with any man who judges for himself. Let us take them in the order in which they appear in his last letter.

1. Have not the first rights of the people, and the first prin­ciples of the constitution, been openly invaded, and the very name of an election made ridiculous, by the arbitrary appoint­ment of Mr. Luttrell?

2. Did not the Duke of Grafton frequently lead his mistress into public, and even place her at the head of his table, as if he had pulled down an ancient temple of Venus, and could bury all decency and shame under the ruins?—Is this the man who dares to talk of Mr. Wilkes's morals?

3. Is not the character of his presumptive ancestors as strong­ly marked in him, as if he had descended from them in a di­rect legitimate line? The idea of his death is only prophetic; and what is prophecy but a narrative preceding the fact?

4. Was not Lord Chatham the first who raised him to the rank and post of a minister, and the first whom he abandoned?

5. Did he not join with Lord Rockingham, and betray him?

6. Was he not the bosom-friend of Mr. Wilkes, whom he now pursues to destruction?

7. Did he not take his degrees with credit at Newmarket. White's, and the opposition?

8. After deserting Lord Chatham's principles, and sacri­ficing his friendship, is he not now closely united with a set of men, who, though they have occasionally joined with all par­ties, have in every different situation, and at all times, [...]een equally and constantly detested by this country?

9. Has not Sir John Moore a pension of five hundred pounds a year?—This may probably be an acquittance of favours upon the turf; but is it possible for a minister to offer a gros­ser outrage to a nation, which has so very lately cleared away the beggary of the civil list at the expence of more than half a million?

10. Is there any one mode of thinking or acting with re­spect to America, which the Duke of Grafton has not succes­sively adopted and abandoned?

11. Is there not a singular mark of shame set upon this man, who has so little delicacy and feeling as to submit to the opporbium of marrying a near relation of one who had debauched his wife?—In the name of decency, how are these amiable cousins to meet at their uncle's table?—It will be a scene in Cedipus, without the distress—Is it wealth, or wit, or beauty—or is the amorous youth in love?

The rest is notorious. That Corsica has been sacrificed to the French: that in some instances the laws have been scan­dalously relaxed, and in other daringly violated; and that the King's subject have been called upon to [...] him of their fidelity, in spite of the measures of his [...].

A writer, who builds his arguments upon facts such as these, is not easily to be confuted. He is not to be answered by general assertions, or general reproaches. He may want [...]loquence to amuse and persuade; but, speaking truth, he must always convince.

LETTER XIV. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE name of Old Noll is destined to be the ruin of the house of Stuart. There is an ominous fatality in it, which even the spurious descendants of the family cannot escape. Oliver Cromwell had the merit of conducting Charles the First to the block. Your correspondent OLD NOLL ap­pears to have the same design upon the Duke of Grafton. His arguments consist better with the title he has assumed, than with the principles he professes; for though he pretends to be an advocate for the Duke, he takes care to give as the best reasons why his patron should regularly follow the fate of his presumptive ancestor.—Through the whole course of the Duke of Grafton's life, I see a strange endeavour to unite contradictions, which cannot be reconciled. He marries, to be divorced; he keeps a mistress, to remind him of conjugal endearments; and he chooses such friends, as it is virtue in him to desert. If it were possible for the genius of [...] ac­complished president who pronounced sentence upon Charles the First, to be revived in some modern sycop [...] ^*, his Grace, I doubt not, would by sympathy discover [...] the dregs of mankind, and take him for a guide in [...] which naturally conduct a minister to the [...].

The assertion, that two-thirds of the nation approve of the acceptance of Mr. Luttrell (for even Old Noll is too [...] to call it an election) can neither be maintained not contained by argument. It is a point of fact, on which every English gen­tleman will determine for himself. As to lawyers, their pro­fession is supported by the indiscriminate defence of right and wrong; and I confess I have not that opinion of [...] know­ledge or integrity, to think it necessary that they [...] excide for me upon a plain constitutional question. With respect to the appointment of Mr. Luttrell, the Chancellor has cover yet given any authentic opinion. Sir Fletcher Norton is indeed an honest, a very honest man; and the Attorney-General is [Page 58] ex [...]cis the guardian of liberty, to take care, I presume, that it shall never break out into a criminal excess. Doctor Black-stone is Solicitor to the Queen. The Doctor recollected that he had a place to preserve, though he forgot that he had a re­putation to lose. We have now the good fortune to under­stand the Doctor's principles, as well as writings. For the defence of truth, of law, and reason, the Doctor's book may be safely consulted; but whoever wishes to cheat a neighbour of his estate, or to rob a country of its rights, need make no scruple of consulting the Doctor himself.

The example of the English nobility may, for aught I know, sufficiently justify the Duke of Grafton, when he in­dulges his genius in all the fashionable excesses of the age; yet, considering his rank and station, I think it would do him more honour to be able to deny the fact, than to defend it by such authority. But if vice itself could be excused, there is yet a certain display of it, a certain outrage to decency, and violation of public decorum, which, for the benefit of society, should never be forgiven. It is not that he kept a mistress at home, but that he constantly attended her abroad. It is not the private indulgence, but the public insult, of which I com­plain. The name of Miss Parsons would hardly have been known, if the First Lord of the Treasury had not led her in triumph through the Opera-house, even in the presence of the Queen. When we see a man act in this manner, we may ad­mit the shameless depravity of his heart: but what are we to think of his understanding?

His Grace, it seems, is now to be a regular domestic man; and as an omen of the future delicacy and correctness of his conduct, he marries a first cousin of the man who has fixed that mark and title of infamy upon him, which, at the same moment, makes a husband unhappy and ridiculous. The ties of consanguinity may possibly preserve him from the same fate a second time; and as to the distress of meeting, I take for granted the venerable uncle of these common cousins has settled the etiquette in such a manner, that if a mistake should happen, it may reach no farther than from Madame ma femme to Madame ma cousine.

The Duke of Grafton has always some excellent reason for deserting his friends—The age and incapacity of Lord Cha­tham—the debility of Lord Rockingham—or the infamy of Mr. Wilkes. There was a time, indeed, when he did [Page 59]not appear to be quite so well acquainted, or so violently of­fended, with the infirmities of his friends. But now I con­fess they are not ill exchanged for the youthful, vigorous virtue of the Duke of Bedford;—the firmness of General Con­way;—the blunt, or if I may call it the aukward, integrity of Mr. Rigby;—and the spotless morality of Lord Sandwich.

If a late pension to a ^* broken gambler be an act worthy of commendation, the Duke of Grafton's connexions will furnish him with many opportunities of doing praise-worthy actions; and as he himself bears no part of the expence, the generosity of distributing the public money for the support of virtuous families in distress, will be an unquestionable proof of his Grace's humanity.

As to the public affairs, Old Noll is a little tender of de­scending to particulars. He does not deny that Corsica has been sacrificed to France; and he confesses, that with re­gard to America, his patron's measures have been [...]ubject to some variation; but then he promises wo [...] [...] stability and firmness for the future. These are my [...] of which we must not pretend to judge by experience; and truly, I fear we shall perish in the desar [...], before we arrive at the Land of Promise. In the regular course of things, the period of the Duke of Grafton's ministerial manhood should now be approaching. The imbecility of his infant-state was commit­ted to Lord Chatham. Charles Townshend took some care of his education, at that ambiguous age which lies [...] lies of political childhood and the vices of [...]. The em­pire of the passions soon succeeded. His earliest princi­ples and connections were of course forgotten or [...]. The company he has lately kept has been of no [...]vice to his morals; and, in the conduct of public affairs, we see the cha­racter of his time of life strongly distinguished. An obsti­nate ungovernable self-sufficiency plainly points out [...] that state of imperfect maturity, at which the grateful [...] of youth is lost, and the solidity of experience not yet ac­quired. It is possible the young man [...] time grow wi­ser, and reform; but, if I understand his disposition, it is not of such corrigible stuff, that we should hope for any amendment in him, before he has accomplished the destructi­on of this country. Like other [...] live to see his error, [...].

LETTER XV. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

IF nature had given you an understanding qualified to keep pace with the wishes and principles of your heart, she would have made you, perhaps, the most formida­ble minister that ever was employed, under a limited mo­narch, to accomplish the ruin of a free people. When nei­ther the feelings of shame, the reproaches of conscience, not the dread of punishment, form any bar to the designs of a minister, the people would have too much reason to lament their condition, if they did not find some resource in the weakness of his understanding. We owe it to the bounty of Providence, that the completest depravity of the heart is sometimes strangely united with a confusion of the mind, which counteracts the most favourite principles, and makes the same man treacherous without art, and a hypocrite with­out deceiving. The measures, for instance, in which your Grace's activity has been chiefly exerted, as they were adopted without skill, should have been conducted with more than common dexterity. But truly, my Lord, the executi­on has been as gross as the design. By one decisive step, you have defeated all the arts of writing. You have fairly con­founded the intrigues of opposition, and silenced the cla­mours of faction. A dark, ambiguous system might require and furnish the materials of ingenious illustration; and in doubtful measures, the virulent exaggeration of party must be employed, to rouse and engage the passions of the people. You have now brought the merits of your administration to an issue, on which every Englishman, of the narrowest capa­city, may determine for himself. It is not an alarm to the passions, but a calm appeal to the judgment of the people, upon their own most essential interests. A more experienced minister would not have hazarded a direct invasion of the first principles of the constitution, before he had made some progress in subduing the spirit of the people. With such a cause as your's, my Lord, it is not sufficient that you have the Court at your devotion, unless you can find means to cor­rupt [Page 61]or intimidate the jury. The collective body of the peo­ple form that jury, and from their decision there is but one appeal.

Whether you have talents to support you, at a crisis of such difficulty and danger, should long since have been con­sidered. Judging truly of your disposition, you have perhaps mistaken the extent of your capacity. Good faith and fol­ly have so long been received as synonymous terms, that the reverse proposition has grown into credit, and every villain fancies himself a man of abilities. It is the apprehension of your friends, my Lord, that you have drawn some hasty con­clusion of this sort, and that a partial reliance upon your mo­ral character has betrayed you beyond the depth of your un­derstanding. You have now carried things too far to retreat. You have plainly declared to the people what they are to ex­pect from the continuance of your administration. It is time for your Grace to consider what you also may expect in re­turn from their spirit and their resentment.

Since the accession of our most gracious Sovereign to the throne, we have seen a system of government which may well be called a reign of experiments. Parties of all denomi­nations have been employed and dismissed. The advice of the ablest men in this country has been repeatedly called for and rejected; and when the royal displeasure has been signi­fied to a minister, the marks of it have usually been proporti­oned to his abilities and integrity. The spirit of the FA­VOURITE had some apparent influence upon every administra­tion; and every set of ministers preserved an appearance of du­ration, as long as they submitted to that influence. But there were certain services to be performed for the favourites' secu­rity, or to gratify his resentments, which your predecessors in office had the wisdom or the virtue not to undertake. The moment this refractory spirit was discovered, their disgrace was determined. Lord Chatham, Mr. Grenville, and Lord Rockingham, have successively had the honour to be dismis­sed for preferring their duty, as servants of the public, to th [...]se compliances which were expected from their station. A submissive administration was at last gradually collected from the deserters of all parties, interests, and connections; and nothing remained but to find a leader for these gallant well-disciplined troops. Stand forth, my Lord, for thou art the man. Lord Bute found no resource of dependence or securi­ty [Page 62]in the proud imposing superiority of Lord Chatham's abi­lities, the shrewd inflexible judgment of Mr. Grenville, nor in the mild but determined integrity of Lord Rockingham. His views and situation requires a creature void of all these properties; and he was forced to go through every division, resolution, composition, and refinement of political che­mistry, before he happily arrived at the caput [...]ortuum of vitriol in your Grace. Flat and insipid in your retired state, but brought into action you become [...] again. Such are the extremes of alternate in [...] or fury which have go­verned you whole administration. Your circumstances with regard to the people soon becoming desperate, like other honest servants you determined to involve the best of masters in the same difficulties with yourself. We owe it to your Grace's well-directed labours, that your Sovereign has been persuaded to doubt of the affections of his subjects, and the people to suspect the virtues of their Sovereign, at a time when both were unquestionable. You have degraded the Royal dignity into a base and dishonourable competition with Mr. Wilkes; nor had you abilities to carry even the last contemptible triumph over a private man, without the grossest violation of the fundamental laws of the constitution and rights of the people. But these are rights, my Lord, which you can no more annihilate, than you can the soil to which they are annexed. The question no longer turns up­on points of national honour and security abroad, or on the degrees of expedience and propriety of measures at home. It was not inconsistent that you should abandon the cause of liberty in another country, which you had persecuted in your own, and in the common arts of domestic corruption, we miss no part of Sir Robert Walpole's system, except his abilities. In this humble imitative line, you might long have proceeded, safe and contemptible. You might proba­bly never have risen to the dignity of being ha [...]ed, and even have been despised with moderation. But it seems you meant to be distinguished; and, to a mind like your's, there was no other road to fame but by the destruction of a n [...]ble fa­bric, which you thought had been too long the admiration of mankind. The use you have made of the military force, in­troduced an alarming change in the mode of executing the laws. The arbitrary appointment of Mr. Luttrell in [...]a [...]es the foundation of the laws themselves, as it manifestly transfers [Page 63]the right of legislation from those whom the people have cho­sen, to those whom they have rejected. With a succession of such appointments, we may soon see a House of Commons collected, in the choice of which the other towns and coun­ties of England will have as little share as the devoted coun­ty of Middlesex.

Yet I trust that your Grace will find, that the people of this country are neither to be intimidated by violent measures, nor deceived by refinements. When they see Mr. Luttrell seated in the House of Commons by mere dint of power, and in direct opposition to the choice of a whole county, they will not listen to those subtleties by which every arbitrary ex­ertion of authority is explained into the law and privilege of Parliament. It requires no persuasion of argument, but sim­ply the evidence of the senses, to convince them, that to transfer the [...]g [...] of election from the collective to the repre­sentative body of the people, contradicts all those ideas of a House of Commons, which they have received from their forefathers, and which they had already, though vainly per­haps, delivered to their children. The principles on which this violent measure had been defended, have added scorn to injury; and forced us to feel, that we are not only oppressed, but insulted.

With what force, my Lord, with what protection, are you prepared to meet the united detestation of the people of Eng­land? The city of London has given a generous example to the kingdom in what manner a king of this country ought to be addressed; and I fancy, my Lord, it is not yet in your courage to stand between your Sovereign and the addresses of his subjects. The injuries you have done this country are such as demand not only redress, but vengeance. In vain shall you look for protection to that venal vote which you eave already paid for.—Another must be purchased; and to save a minister, the House of Commons must declare them­selves not only independent of their constituents, but the de­termined enemies of the constitution. Consider, my Lord, whether this be an extremity to which their fears will permit them to advance; or, if their protection should fa [...]l you, how far you are authorised to rely upon the sincerity of those smiles which a pious Court lavishes without reluctance upon a li­bertine by profession. It is not indeed the least of the thou­sand contradictions which attend you, that a man, marked to [Page 64]the world by the grossest violation of all ceremony and deco­rum, should be the first servant of a Court, in which prayers are morality, and kneeling is religion. Trust not too far to appearances, by which your predecessors have been deceived, though they have not been injured. Even the best of princes may at last discover, that this is a contention, in which eve­ry thing may be lost, but nothing can be gained; and as you became minister by accident, were adopted without choice, trusted without confidence, and continued without favour, be assured, that, whenever an occasion presses, you will be dis­carded without even the forms of regret. You will then have reason to be thankful, if you are permitted to retire to that seat of learning, which, in contemplation of the system of your life, the comparative purity of your manners with th [...]se of their high steward, and a thousand other recommending circumstances, has chosen you to encourage the growing vir­tue of their youth, and to preside over their education. Whenever the spirit of distributing prebends and bishoprics shall have departed from you, you will find that learned se­minary perfectly recovered from the delirium of an installa­tion, and, what in truth it ought to be, once more a peace­ful scene of slumber and thoughtless meditation. The vene­rable tutors of the university will no longer distress your mo­desty, by proposing you for a pattern to their pupils. The learned dulness of declamation will be silent; and even the ve­nal m [...]se, though happiest in fiction, will forget your virtues. Yet, for the benefit of the succeeding age, I could wish that your retreat might be deferred, until your morals shall hap­pily be ripened to that maturity of corruption, at which the worst examples cease to be contagious.

LETTER XVI. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

A GREAT deal of useless argument might have been saved, in the political contest, which has arisen from the ex­pulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the subsequent appointment of Mr. Luttrell, if the question had been once stated with pre­cision, [Page 65]to the satisfaction of each party, and clearly under­stood by them both. But in this, as in almost every other dispute, it usually happens, that much time is lost in refer­ring to a multitude of cases and precedents, which prove no­thing to the purpose; or in maintaining propositions, which are either not disputed, or, whether they be admitted or deni­ed, are entirely indifferent as to the matter in de [...]ate; until at last the mind, perplexed and confounded with the endless subtleties of controversy, loses sight of the main question, and never arrives at truth. Both parties in the dispute are apt enough to practise these dishonest artifices. The man who is conscious of the weakness of his cause, is interested in con­cealing it; and, on the other side, it is not uncommon to see a good cause mangled by advocates who do not know the real strength of it.

I should be glad to know, for instance, to what purpose, in the present case, so many precedents have been produced to prove, That the House of Commons have a right to expel one of their own members; that it belongs to them to judge of the validity of elections; or that the law of Parliament is part of the law of the land ^*? After all these propositions are ad­mitted, Mr. Luttrell's right to his seat will continue to be just as disputable as it was before. Not one of them is at present in agitation. Let it be admitted that the House of Com­mons were authorised to expel Mr. Wilkes; that they are the proper court to judge of elections; and that the law of Parli­ament is binding upon the people; still it remains to be in­quired, whether the house, by their resolution in favour of Mr. Luttrell, have or have not truly declared that law. To facilitate this inquiry, I would have the question cleared of all foreign or indifferent matter. The following state of it will probably be thought a fair one by both parties; and then I imagine there is no gentleman in this country, who will not be capable of forming a judicious and true opinion upon it. I take the question to be strictly this: ‘Whether or not it be “the known, established law of Parliament, that the expulsi­on of a member of the House of Commons of itself creates in him such an incapacity to be re-elected, that, at a sub­sequent election, any votes given to him are null and void; [Page 66]and that any other candidate, who, except the person ex­pelled, has the greatest number of votes, ought to be the ” [...]itting member?’

To prove that the affirmative is the law of Parliament, I apprehend it is not sufficient for the present House of Com­mons to declare it to be so. We may shut our eyes indeed to the dangerous consequences of suffering one branch of the le­gislature to declare new laws, without argument or example, and it may perhaps be prudent enough to submit to authority; but a mere assertion will never convince, much less will it be thought reasonable to prove the right by the fact itself. The ministry have not yet pretended to such a tyranny over our minds. To support the affirmative fairly, it will either be necessary to produce some statute, in which that positive pro­vision shall have been made, that specific disability clearly created, and the consequences of it declared: or, if there be to such statute, the custom of Parliament must then be refer­red to; and some case or cases ^*, strictly in point, must be produced, with the decision of the court upon them; for I readily admit, that the custom of Parliament, once clearly proved, is equally binding with the common and statute law.

The consideration of what may be reasonable or unreasona­ble, makes no part of this question. We are inquiring what the law is not what it ought to be. Reason may be applied to show the impropriety or experience of a law, but we must have either statute or precedent to prove the existence of it. At the same time, I do not mean to admit that the late reso­lution of the House of Commons is defensible on general prin­ciples of reason, any more than in law. This is not the hinge on which the debate turns.

Supposing therefore that I have laid down an accurate state of the question, I will venture to affirm, 1st. That there is no statute existing, by which that specific disability which we speak of is created. If there be, let it be produced. The argument will then be at an end.

2dly. That there is no precedent, in all the proceedings of the House of Commons, which comes entirely home to the present case, viz. ‘where an expelled member has been “returned again, and another candidate, with an inferior [Page 67] ”number of votes, has been declared the sitting member.’ If there be such a precedent, let it be given to us plainly, and I am sure it will have more weight than all the cunning arguments which have been drawn from inferences and pro­babilities.

The ministry, in that laborious pamphlet which I presume contains the whole strength of the party, have declared ^*, ‘“that Mr. Walpole's was the first and only instance in which the electors of any county or borough had returned a per­son ”expelled to serve in the same Parliament.’ It is not possible to conceive a case mere exactly in point. Mr. Wal­pole was expelled; and, having a majority of votes at the next election, was returned again. The friends of Mr. Tay­lor, a candidate set up by the ministry, petitioned the house that he might be the sitting member. Thus far the circum­stances tally exactly, except that our House of Commons saved Mr. Luttrell the trouble of petitioning. The point of law, however, was same. It came regularly before the house, and it was their business to determine upon it. They did determine it, for they declared Mr. Taylor not du­ly elected. If it be said that they meant this resolution as matter of favour and indulgence to the borough, which had retorted Mr. Walpole upon them, in order that the burgesses, knowing what the law was, might correct their error; I answer,

I. That it is a strange way of arguing, to oppose a sup­position, which no man can prove, to a fact which proves itself.

II. That if this were the intention of the House of Com­mons, it must have defeated itself. The burgesses of Lynn could never have known their error, much less could they have corrected it by any instruction they received from the pro­ceedings of the House of Commons. They might perhaps have foreseen, that, if they returned Mr. Walpole again, he would again be rejected; but they never could infer, from a resolution by which the candidate with the fewest votes was declared not duly elected, that, at a future election, and in si­milar circumstances, the House of Commons would reverse their resolution, and receive the same candidate as duly elect­ed, whom they had before rejected.

This indeed would have been a most extraordinary way of declaring the law of parliament, and what I presume no man, whose understanding is not at cross-purposes with itself, could possibly understand.

If, in a case of this importance, I thought myself at li­berty to argue from suppositions rather than from facts, I think the probability, in this instance, is directly the reverse of what the ministry affirm; and that it is much more likely that the House of Commons at that time would rather have strained a point in favour of Mr. Taylor, than that they would have violated the law of parliament, and robbed Mr. Taylor of a right legally vested in him, to gratify a refrac­tory borough, which, in defiance of them. had returned a person branded with the strongest mark of the displeasure of the house.

But really, Sir, this way of talking, for I cannot call it argument, is a mockery of the common understanding of the nation, too gross to be endured. Our dearest interests are at stake. An attempt had been made, not merely to rob a sin­gle county of its rights, but, by inevitable consequence, to alter the constitution of the House of Commons. This fa­tal attempt has succeeded, and stands as a precedent record­ed for ever. If the ministry are unable to defend their cause by fair argument founded on facts, let them spare us at least the mortification of being amused and deluded like children. I believe there is yet a spirit of resistance in this country, which will not submit to be oppressed; but I am sure there is a fond of good sense in this country, which cannot be deceived.

LETTER XVII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

IT will not be necessary for Junius to take the trouble of answering your correspondent G. A. the quotation from a speech without doors, published in your paper of the 28th of last month. The speech appeared before Junius's letter; and as the author seems to consider the great propo­sition, [Page 69]on which all his argument depends, viz, that Mr. Wilkis was under that known legal incapacity of which Junius speaks, as a point granted, his speech is in no shape an an­swer to Junius, for this is the very question in debate.

As to G. A. l observe, first, that if he did not admit Junius's state of the question, be should have shown the fal­lacy of it, or given us a more exact one;—secondly, that, con­sidering the many hours and days which the ministry and their advocates have wasted, in public debate, in compiling large quartus, and collecting innumerable precedents, expressly to prove that the late proceedings of the House of Commons are warranted by the law, custom, and practice of Parliament, it is rather an extraordinary supposition, to be made by one of their own party even for the sake of argument, that no such statute, us such custom of Parliament, no such case in p [...]int, can be produced. G. A. may however make the supposition with safety. It contains nothing, but literally the fact, ex­cept that there is a case exactly in point, with a decision of the house diametrically opposite to that which the present House of Commons came to in favour of Mr. Luttrell.

The ministry now begin to be ashamed of the weakness of their cause; and, as it usually happens with falsehood, are driven to the necessity of shifting their ground, and chang­ing their whole defence. At first we were told, that nothing could be clearer than that the proceedings of the House of Commons were justified by the known law and uniform cus­tom of Parliament. But now it seems, if there be no law, the House of Commons have a right to make one; and if there be no precedent, they have a right to create the first:— for this I presume is the amount of the questions proposed to Junius. if your correspondent had been at all versed in the law of Parliament, or generally in the laws of this coun­try, he would have seen that this defence is as weak and false as the former.

The privileges of either house of Parliament, it is true, are indefinite. that is, they have not been described or laid down in any one code or declaration whatsoever; but whenever a question of privilege has arisen, it has invariably been disput­ed or maintained upon the footing of precedents alone ^*. In [Page 70]the course of the proceedings upon the Aylsbury election, the House of Lords res [...]l [...]ed, ‘That neither house of Parliament “had any power, by any vote or declaration, to create to themselves any new privilege that [...]as not warranted by the ”known laws and customs of Parliament.’ And to this rule the House of Commons, though otherwise they had acted is a very arbitrary manner, gave their assent; for they affirmed that they had g [...]ed [...] by it, in [...]ss [...]rting their privi­leges. —Now, [...], if this be true with respect to ma [...]ters of privilege, in which the House of Commons, individually and as a body, are principally concerned, how much more strong­ly will it hold against any pretended power in that house to create or declare a new law, by which not only the rights of the house o [...]r their own member, and those of the member himself, are included, but also th [...]se of a third and separate party, I mean the f [...]h [...]klers of the kingdom. To do justice to the ministry, they have not yet pretended that any one or any two of the three [...] have power to make a new law, without the concurrence of the third. They know that a man who maintains such a doctrine. is liable, by statute, to the heaviest p [...]n [...]ities. They do not [...] that the House of Commons have assumed a [...] or de [...]ia [...]ed a [...]w law.—On the contrary, they affirm that their proceedings have been strictly conformable to and [...] upon the anci­ent law and custom of Parliament. Th [...]s therefore the que­stion returns to the point at which Junius had fixed it, viz. Whether [...] this be th [...] law of Parliament? If it be not, the House of Commons had no legal authority to establish the Precedent; and the precedent itself is a mere fact, without any proof of right whatsoever.

Your correspondent concludes with a question of the sim­plest nature, Must a thing [...] because it has [...] before? No. But admitting it were proper to be done, that alone does not convey any authority to do it. As to the present case, I hope I shall never see the time, when not only a single person, but a whole county, and in effect the entire collective body of the people, may again be robbed of their [...]th-right by a vote of the House of Commons. But if, for reasons which I am unable to comprehend, it be necessary to trust that house with a power so exorbitant and so unconsti­tutional, at least let it be given to them by an act of the le­gislature.

LETTER XVIII. TO SIR WILLIAM BLACKSTONE, SOLICITOR GENERAL TO HER MAJESTY.

I SHALL make you no apology for considering a certain [...], in which your late conduct is defended, a writ­ten [...] yourself. The [...] the personal resent­ments, and above all that wounded spirit, [...]acc [...]omed to rep [...]ch, and I hope [...] frequently conscious of, [...] eserving it, are [...] the author to us as plainly as if your more were in the [...]. You appeal to the public in de­fence of your reputation. We hold it, Sir, that an injury off [...]red to an in [...] is interesting to society. On this principle the people of [...] land [...] cause with Mr. Wilkes. On this pri [...]i [...]: if [...] are injured, they will join in your resent [...]. I shall not follow you through the insipid form of a third person, but [...] to you directly.

You seem to think the [...] of a [...] more respect­able and better suited to the dignity [...] your cause than that of a newspaper. [...]e it so. Yet if newspapers are s [...]ur [...]ilous, you must consess they are impartial. They give us, without any apparent preference, the wit and argument of the ministry, as well as the [...] dulness of the o [...]p [...]tion. The [...] are equally poised. It is not the pri [...]te [...]s fault if the greater weight in [...]nes the [...].

Your pamphlet then is divided into an attack upon Mr. Grenvide [...] character, and a defence of your own. It would have been more cousistent perhaps with your prosessed inten­tion so have confined yourself to the last. But anger has some claim to indulgence, and raning is usually a relief to the mind. I hope you have found benefit from the ex­periment. It is not my de [...]ign to [...]ter into a formal vin­dication of Mr. Grenville upon his own principles. I have neither the honour of [...]eing personally known to him, nor do I pretend to be completely master of all the facts. I need not run the risk of doing an injustice to his opinions or to his conduct, when your pamphlet alone carries, upon the sace of it, a full vindication of both.

Your first reflection is, that Mr. Grenville ^* was, of all men, the person who should not have complained of incon­sistence with regard to Mr. Wilkes. This, Sir, is either an unmeaning sneer, a peevish expression of resen [...]ment, or, if it means any thing. you plainly beg the question; for whe­ther his parliamentary conduct with regard to Mr. Wilkes has or has not been inconsistent, remains yet to be proved, But it seems he received upon the spot a sufficient chastisement for exercising so [...]sairly his talents of misrepresentation. You are a lawyer, Sir. and know better than I do, upon what particular occasions a talent for misrepresentation may be f [...] ­ [...]y exerted; but to punish a man a second time, when he has been once sufficiently chastised, is rather too severe. It is not in the laws of England; it is not in your own commenta­ries; nor is it yet, I believe, in the new law you have re­veale to the House of COmmons. I hope this doctrine has no existence but in your own heart. A [...]ter all, Sir, if you had consuited that sober discretion. which you seem to op­pose with triumph to the honest jollity of a tavern, it might have occurred to you, that, although you could have succeeded in fixing a charge of inconsistence upon Mr. Grenville, it would not have tended in any shape to exculpate yourself.

Your next insinuation that Sir william Meredith had hasti­ly adopted the false glosses of his new ally, is of the same sort with the first. It conveys a sneer as little worthy of the gravity of your character, as it is useless to your defence. It is of little moment to the public to inquire, by whom the charge was conceived, or by whom it was adopted. The only question we ask, is, Whether or no it be true? The remainder of your reflections upon Mr. Grenville's conduct destroy themselves. He could not possibly come prepared to traduce your integrity to the house. He could not [...] that you would even speak upon the question; much less would he foresee that you could maintain a [...] of that doctrine which you had solemnly, disinterestedly, and upon soberest reflection, delivered to the public. He came armed indeed with what he thought a respectable authority, to sup­port what he was convinced was the cause of truth; and I [Page 73]doubt not he intended to give you, in the course of the de­bate, and honourable and public testimony of his esteem. Thinking highly of his abilities, I cannot however allow him the gift of divination. As to what you are pleased to call a plan coolly formed to impose upon the House of Commons, and his producing it without provocation at midnight, I con­fider it as the language of pique and invective: therefore un­worthy of regard. But, Sir, I am sensible I have followed your example too long, and wandered from the point.

The quotation from your commentaries is matter of record. It can neither be altered by your friends, nor misrepresented by your enemies; and I am willing to take your own word for what you have said in the House of Commons. If there be a real difference between what you have written and what you have spoken, you confess that your book ought to be the standard. Now, Sir, if words mean any thing, I apprehend, that, when a long enumeration of disqualifications (whether by statute of the custom of parliament) concludes with these general comprehensive words, ‘But, subject to these restric­tions “and disqualifications, every subject of the realm is ”eligible of common right,’ a reader of plain understanding must of course rest satisfied that no species of disqualification whatsoever had been omitted. The known character of the author, and the apparent [...]uracy with which the whole work is compiled, would confirm him in his opinion; nor could he possibly form any other judgment, without looking upon your commentaries in the same light in which you consider those penal laws which. though not repealed, are fallen into disuse, and are now in effect A SXARE TO THE UNWARY ^*.

You tell us indeed, that it was not part of your plan to specify any temporary incapacity: and that you could not. without a spirit of prophecy, have specified the disability of a private individual, subsequent to the period at which you wrote. What your plan was, I know not; but what it should have been, in order to complete the work you have given us, is by no means difficult to determine. The incapacity, which you call temporary, may continue seven years; and though you might not have foreseen the particular case of Mr. Wilkes. you might and should have foreseen the possibility of such a [Page 74]case, and told us how far the House of Commons were au­thorised to proceed in it by the law and custom of Parliamen. The freeholders of Middlesex would then have known what they had to trust to, and would never have returned Mr. Wilkes, when Colonel Luttrell was a candidate against him, They would have chosen some indifferent person, rather than submit to be represented by the object of their contempt and detestation.

Your attempt to distinguish between disabilities which as, fect whole classes of men, and those which affect individuals only, is really unworthy of your understanding, Your com­mentaries had taught me, that, although the instance in which a penal law is exerted be particular, the laws themselves are general. They are made for the benefit and instruction of the public, though the penalty falls only upon and individual. You cannot but know, Sir, what was Mr. Wilkes's case yesterday, may be yours or mine to-morrow, and that consequently the common right of every subject of the realm is invaded by it. Professing therefore to treat of the constitution of the House of Commons, and of the laws and customs relative to that constitution, you certainly were guilty of a most unpardon­able omission in taking no notice of a right and privilege of the house, more extraordinary and more arbitrary than all the others they possess put together. If the expulsion of a mem­ber, not under any legal disbility, of itself creates in him an incapacity to be elected, I see a ready way marked out, by which the majority may at any time remove the honestest and ablest men who happen to be in opposition to them. To say that they will [...] make this extravagant use of their power, would be a language unfit for a man for learned in the laws as you are. Bu your doctrine, Sir, they have the power, and laws, you know, are intended to guard against what men may do, not to trust to what they will do.

Upon the whole, Sir, the charge against you is of a plain, simple nature: It appears even upon the face of your own pamphlet. On the contrary, you justifications of yourself is full of subtlety and refinement, and in some places not very intelligible. If I were personally your enemy, I should dwell, with a malignant pleasure, upon those great and useful qua­lifications which you certainly possess, and by which you once acquired, though they could not preserve to you, the respect and esteem of your country. I should enumerate the honours [Page 75]you have lost, and the virtues you have disgraced: but hav­ing no private resentments to gratify, I think it sufficient to have given my opinion of your public conduct, leaving the punishment it deserves to your closet and to yourself.

LETTER XIX. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

A CORRESPONDENT of the St. James's Evening-Post first wilfully misunderstands Junius, then censures him for a bad reasoner. Junius does not say that it was in­cumbent upon Doctor Blackstone to foresee and state the crimes for which Mr. Wilkes was expelled. If, by a spirit of prophecy, he had even done so, it would have been nothing to the purpose. The question is, not for what particular of­fences a person may be expelled, but generally whether by the law of Parliament expulsion alone creates a disqualification. If the affirmative be the law of Parliament, Doctor Black­stone might and should have told us so. The question is not confined to this or that particular person, but forms one great general branch of disqualification, too important in itself, and too extensive in its consequences, to be omitted in an ac­curate work expressly treating of the law of Parliament.

The truth of the matter is evidently this. Dr. Blackstone, while he was speaking in the House of Commons, never once [...] of his commenta [...]es until the contradiction was un­expectedly [...]ed, and stared him in the face. Instead of de­fending him [...] upon the spot, he sunk under the charge in an agony of [...] and despair. It is well known that there was a pause of some minutes in the house, from a general ex­pectation tha [...] [...]he Doctor would say something in his own de­fence; but [...] [...]eems his faculties were too much overpowered to think of lose subtleties and refinements which have since occurred to him. It was then Mr. Grenville received the se­vere chastisement, which the Doctor mentions with so much triumph: I wish the honourable gentleman, instead of shaking [Page 76]his head, would state a good argument [...] of it, If to the ele­gance. novelty, and bitterness of this ingenious sarcasm, we add the natural melody of the amiable Sir Fletcher Norton's pipe, we shall not be surprised that Mr. Grenville was unable to make him any reply.

As to the Doctor, I would recommend it to him to he quiet. If not, he may perhaps hear again from Junius himself.

LETTER XX. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE gentleman who has published an answer to Sir William Meredith's pamphlet, having honoured me with a postscript of six quarto [...], which he moderately calls be­stowing a very few words upon me, I cannot, in common politeness, refuse him a reply. The form and magnitude of a quarto imposes upon the mind; and men, who are unequal to the labour of discussing an intricate argument, or wish to avoid it, are willing enough to suppose, that much has been proved, because much has been said. Mine, I confess, are humble labours. I do not presume to instruct the learned, but simply to inform the body of the people; and I prefer that channel of conveyance, which is likely to spread far­thest among them. The advocates of the ministry seem to me to write for fame, and to flatter themselves, that the size of their works will make them immortal. They pile up re­luctant quarto upon solid folio, as if their labours, because they were gigantic, could contend with truth and Heaven.

The writer of the volume in question, meets me upon my own ground. He acknowledges there is no statute, by which the specific disability we speak of is created; but he affirms, that the custom of Parliament has been referred to; and that a case strictly in point has been produced, with the decision of the court upon it.—I thank him for coming so fairly to the point. He ass [...]rts, that the cause of Mr. Walpole is strictly in point, to prove that expulsion creates an absolute incapacity of being re-elected; and for this purpose he refers generally to the first vote of the house upon that occasion, without venturing to recite the vote itself. The unfair, dis­ingenuous [Page 82]artifice of adopting that part of a precedent which seems to suit his purpose, and omitting the remainder, de­serves some pity, but cannot excite my resentment. He takes advantage eagerly of the first resolution, by which Mr. Wal­pole's incapacity is declared; but as to the two following, by which the candidate with the fewest votes was declared "not duly elected," and the election itself vacated, I d [...]e say he would be well satisfied if they were for ever [...] out of the journals of the House of Commons. In fair ar­gument, no part of a precedent should be admitted, unless the whole of it be given to us together. The author has divided his precedent; for he knew, that, taken together, it produced a consequence directly the reverse of that which he endeavours to draw from a vote of expulsion. But what will this honest person say, if I take him at his word, and demonstrate to him, that the House of Commons never meant to found Mr. Walpole's incapacity upon h [...]s expulsion only? What subterfuge will then remain?

Let it be remembered that we are speaking of the intention of men who lived more than half a century ago, and that such intention can only he collected from their words and actions as they are delivered to us upon record. To prove their designs by a supposition of what they would have done, opposed to what they actually did, is mere trifling and im­pertinence. The vote, by which Mr. Walpole's incapacity was declared, is thus expressed: ‘That Robert Walpole, “ Esq having been this session of Parliament committed a prisoner to the Tower, and expelled this house for a breach of trust in the execution of his office, and notorious cor­ruption when secretary at war, was and is incapable of being elected a member to serve in this present Parlia­ment ^*.”’ Now, Sir, to my understanding, no propositi­on of this kind can be more evident, than that the House of Commons, by this very vote, themselves understood, and [Page 83]meant to declare, that Mr. Walpole's incapacity arose from the crimes he had committed, not from the punishment the house annexed to them. The high breach of trust, the noto­rious corruption, are stated in the strongest terms. They do not tell us that he was incapable because he was expelled, but because he had been guilty of such offences as justly rendered him unworthy of a seat in Parliament. If they had intended to fix the disability upon his expulsion alone, the mention of his crimes in the same vote would have been highly improper. It could only [...] the minds of the electors, wh [...], if they collected any thing from so confused a declaration of the law of Parliament, must have concluded that their repre­sentative had been declared incapable because he was highly guilty, not because he had been punished. But even admit­ting them to have understood it in the other sense, they must then, from the very terms of the vote, have united the idea of his being sent to the Tower with that of his expulsion, and considered his incapacity as the joint effect of both ^*.

I do not mean to give an opinion upon the justice of the proceedings of the House of Commons with regard to Mr. Walpole: but certainly, if I admitted their censure to be well-founded, I could no way avoid agreeing with them in the consequence they drew from it. I could never have a doubt in law or reason, that a man convicted of a high breach of trust, and of notorious corruption in the execu­tion [Page 85]of a public office, was and ought to be incapable of sit­ting in the same Parliament. Far from attempting to inva­lidate that vote, I should have wished that the incapacity declared by it could legally have been continued for ever.

Now, Sir, observe how forcibly the argament returns. The House of Commons, upon the face of their proceedings, had the strongest motives to declare Mr. Walpole incapable of being re-elected. They thought such a man unworthy to fit among them. To that point they proceeded, and no far­ther; for they respected the rights of the people, while they asserted their own. They did not infer, from Mr. Walpole's incapacity, that his opponent was duly elected; on the con­trary, they declared Mr. Taylor "Not duly elected," and the election itself void.

Such, however, is the precedent which my honest friend assures us is strictly in point to prove, that expulsion of itself creates an incapacity of being elected. If it had been so, the present House of Commons should at least have followed strictly the example before them, and should have stated to us in the same vote the crimes for which they expelled Mr. Wilkes; whereas they resolve simply, that, ‘having been expel­led, “ ”he was, and is incapable.’ In this proceeding I am au­thorised to affirm, they have neither statute, nor custom, nor reason, nor one single precedent to support them. On the other side, there is indeed a precedent so strongly in point, that all the enchanted castles of ministerial magic fall before it. In the year 1698 (a period which the rankest Tory dare not except against,) Mr. Wollaston was expelled, re-elected, and admitted to take his seat in the same Parliament. The ministry have precluded themselves from all objections drawn from the cause of his expulsion; for they affirm absolutely, that expulsion of itself creates the disability. Now, Sir, let sophistry evade, let falsehood assert, and impudence deny—here stands the precedent, a land-mark to direct us through a troubled sea of controversy, conspicuous and unremoved.

I have dwelt the longer upon the discussion of this point, be­cause, in my opinion, it comprehends the whole question. The rest is unworthy of notice. We are inquiring whether incapacity be or be not created by expulsion. In the cases of Bedford and Malden, the incapacity of the persons re­turned was matter of public notoriety, for it was created by act of Parliament. But really, Sir, my honest friend's sup­positions [Page 86]are as unfavourable to him as his facts. He well knows that the clergy, besides that they are represented in common with their follow-subjects, have also a separate Par­liament of their own:—that their incapacity to fit in the House of Commons has been confirmed by repeated decisions of the house; and that the law of Parliament, declared by these decisions, has been for above two centuries notorious and undisputed. The author is certainly at liberty to fancy cases, and make whatever comparisons [...]e thinks proper: has suppositions still continue as distant from fact, as his will dis­courses are from solid argument.

The conclusion of his book is candid to extreme. He of­fers to grant me all I desire. He thinks he may safely ad­mit that the case of Mr. Walpole makes directly against him, for it seems he has one grand solution in petts for all difficul­ties. If, says he, I were [...] allow all this, it will only p [...]er, that the law of election was different in Queen Anne's time from what it is at present.

This indeed is more than I expected. The principle, I know, has been maintained in fact; but I never expected to see it so formally declared. What can he mean? Does he assume this language to satisfy the doubts of the people; [...] does he mean to rouse their indignation? Are the ministry daring enough to affirm, that the House of Commons have a right to make and unmake the law of Parliament at their pleasure? Does the law of Parliament, which we are so often told is the law of the land;—does the common right of every subject of the realm, depend upon an arbitrary ca­pricious vote of one branch of the legislature?—The voice of truth and reason must be silent.

The ministry tell us plainly, that this is no longer a questi­on of right, but of power and force alone. What was law yesterday is not law to-day: and now it seems we have no better rule to live by, than the temporary discretion and fluctuating integrity of the House of Commons.

Professions of patriotism are become stale and ridiculous. For my own part, I claim no merit from endeavouring to do a service to my fellow-subjects. I have done it to the best of my understanding; and without looking for the ap­probation of other men, my conscience is satisfied. What re­mains to be done concerns the collective body of the people. They are now to determine for themselves, whether they [Page 87]will firmly and constitutionally assert their rights; or make an humble, slavish surrender of them at the [...]et of the mi­nistry. To a generous mind there cannot be a doubt. We one it to our ancestors to preserve entire those rights which they have delivered to our care: we owe it to our posterity, not to suffer their dearest inheritance to be destroyed. But if it were possible for us to be insensible of these sacred claims, there is yet an obligation binding upon ourselves, from which no­thing can acquit us;—a personal intere [...]t, which we cannot surrender. To alienate even our own rights, would be a crime as much more enormous than suicide, as a life of ci­vil security and freedom is superior to existence; and if life be the bounty of Heaven, we scornfully reject the noblest part of the gift, if we consent to surrender that certain rule of living, without which the condition of human nature is not only miserable, but contemptible.

LETTER XXI. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I MUST beg of you to print a few lines, in explanation of some passages in my last letter, which I see have been misunderstood.

1. When I said, that the House of Commons never meant to found Mr. Walpole's incapacity on his expulsion only, I meant no more than to deny the general proposition, that expulsion alone creates the incapacity. If there be any thing ambiguous in the expression, I beg leave to explain it by saying, that, in my opinion, expulsion neither creates, nor in any part contributes to create the incapacity in question.

2. I carefully avoided entering into the merits of Mr. Wal­pole's case. I did not inquire, whether the House of Com­mons acted justly, or whether they truly declared the law of Parliament. My remarks went only to their apparent mean­ing and intention, as it stands declared in their own reso­lution.

3. I never meant to affirm, that a commitment to the Tow­er created a disqualification. On the contrary, I considered [Page 88]that idea as absurdity, into which the ministry must ine­vitably fall, if they reasoned right upon their own principles.

The case of Mr. Wollaston speaks for itself. The ministry assert that expulsion alone creates an absolute complete incapa­city to be re-elected to fit in the same Parliament. This pro­position they have uniformely maintained, without any condi­tion or modification whatsoever. Mr. Wollaston was expel­led, re-elected, and admitted to take his seat in the same Par­liament. —I leave it to the public to determine, whether this be a plain matter of fact, or mere nonsense or declamation.

LETTER XXII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

ARGUMENT against FACT; or A new system of political Logic, by which the ministry have demonstrated, to the satisfaction of their friends, that expulsion alone creates a complete incapacity to be re-elected; alias, that a subject of this realm may be robbed of his common right by a vote of the House of Commons.

LETTER XXIII. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEDFORD.

YOU are so little accustomed to receive any marks of re­spect or esteem from the public, that if, in the follow­ing lines, a compliment or expression of applause should escape me. I fear you would consider it as a mockery of your esta­blished character, and perhaps and insult to your understanding. You have nice feelings, my Lord, if we may judge from your resentments. Cautious, therefore, of giving offence, where you have so little deserved it, I shall leave the illustration of your virtues to other hands. Your friends have a privilege to play upon the easiness of your temper, or possible they are better acquainted with your good qualities than I am. You have done good by stealth. The rest is upon record. You have still left ample room for speculation, when panegyric is ex­hausted.

You are indeed a very considerable man. The highest rank;—a splendid fortune;—and a name, glorious till it was your's,—were sufficient to have supported you with meaner abilities than I think you possess. From the first, you derive a constitutional claim to respect; from the second, a natural extensive authority;—the last created a partial expectation of hereditary virtues. The use you have made of these uncom­mon advantages might have been more honourable to your­self, but could not be more instructive to mankind. We may [Page 92]trace it in teh veneration of your country, the choice of your friends, and in the accomplishment of every sanguine hope which the public mgith have conceived from the illustrious name of Russell.

The eminence of your station gave you a commanding pro­spect of your duty. The road, which led to honour, was open to your view. You could not lose it by mistake, and you had no temptation to depart from it by design. Com­pare the natural dignity and importance of the richest peer of England;—the noblest independence which he might have maintained in Parliament, and the real interest and respect which he might have acquired, not only in Parliament, but through the whole kingdom:—compare these glorious distinc­tions with the ambitions of holding a share in government, the emoluments of a place, the sale of a borough, or the purchase of a corporation; and though you may not regret the virtues which create respect, you may see with anguish how much real importance and authority you have lost. Consider the character of an independent virtuous Duke of Bedford; ima­gine what he might be in this country—then reflect one mo­ment upon what you are. If it be possible for me to with­draw my attention from the fact, I will tell you in the theory what such a man might be.

Conscious of his own weight and importance, his conduct in Parliament would be directed by nothing but the constitu­tional duty of a peer. He would consider himself as a guar­dian of the laws. Willing to support the just measures of go­vernment, but determined to observe the conduct of the mi­nister with suspicion, he would oppose the violence of faction with as much firmness as the encroachments of prerogative. He would be as little capable of bargaining with the minister for places for himself or his dependants, as of descending to mix himself in the intrigues of opposition. Whenever an important question called for his opinion in Parliament, he would be heard, by the most profligate minister, with defe­rence and respect. His authority would either sanctify or disgrace the measures of government.—The people would look up to him as their protector; and a virtuous prince would have one honest man in his dominions, in whose inte­grity and judgment he might safely confide. If it should be he will of Providence to afflict him with a domestic misfor­tune, ^* [Page 93]he would submit to the stroke with feeling, but not without dignity. He would consider the people as his chil­dren, and receive a generous heart-felt consolation in the sym­pathising tears and blessings of his country.

Your Grace may probably discover something more intel­ligible in the negative part of this illustrious character. The man I have described would never prostitute his dignity in Parliament by an indecent violence, either in opposing or de­sending a minister. He would not at one moment rancorously persecute, at another basely cringe to the favourite of his So­vereign. After outraging the royal dignity with peremptory conditions little short of menace and hostility, he would never descend to the humility of soliciting an interview ^† with the favourite, and of offering to recover at any price the honour of his friendship. Though deceived perhaps in his youth, he would not, through the course of a long life, have invariably chosen his friends from among the most profligate of mankind. His own honour would have forbidden him from mixing his private pleasures or conversation with jockies, gamesters, blas­phemers, gladiators, or buffoons. He would then have never felt, much less would he have submitted to, the dishonest ne­cessity of engaging in the interests and intrigues of his depen­dants; of supplying their vices, or relieving their beggary, at the expence of his country. He would not have betrayed such ignorance, or such contempt, of the constitution, as openly to avow, in a court of justice, the ^‡ purchase and sale of a borough. He would not have thought it consistent with his rank in the state, or even whit his personal importance, to be the little tyrant of a little corporation ^‖. He would never have been insulted with virtues, which he had laboured to ex­tinguish; nor suffered the disgrace of a mortifying defeat, [Page 94]which has made him ridiculous and contemptible, even to the few by whom he was not detested.—I reverecne the afflictions of a good man,—him sorrows are sacred. But how can we take part in the distresses of a man, whom we can neither love nor esteem; or feel for a calamity, of which he himself is in­sensible? Where was the father's heart, when he could look for, or find, an immediate consolation for the loss of an only son, in consultations and bargains for a place at court, and even in the misery of balloting at the India-house!

Admitting then that you have mistaken or deserted those honourable principles, which ought to have directed your con­duct; admitting that you have as little claim to private af­fection as to public esteem; let us see with what abilities, with what degree of judgment, you have carried your own system into execution. A great man, in the success, and even in the magnitude of his crimes, finds a rescue from contempt. Your Grace is every way unfortunate. Yet I will not look back to those ridiculous scenes by which, in your earlier days, you thought it an honour to be distinguished ^*;—the recorded stripes, the public infamy, your own sufferings, or Mr. Rig­by's fortitude. These events undoubtedly left an impression though not upon your mind. To such a mind it may per­haps be a pleasure to reflect, that there is hardly a corner of any of his Majesty's kingdoms, except France, in which, at one end or another, you valuable life has not been in danger. Amiable man! we see and acknowledge the protection of Providence, by which you have so often escaped the personal detestation of your fellow-subjects, and are still reserved for the public justice of your country.

Your history begins to be important at that auspicious pe­riod at which you were deputed to represent the Earl of Bute at the court of Versailles. It was an honourable office, and executed with the same spirit with which it was accepted. Your patrons wanted an ambassador, who would submit to [Page 95]make concessions without during to insist upon any honour­able condition for his Sovereign. Their business required a man who had as little feeling for his own dignity, as for the welfare of his country: and they found him in the first rank of the nobility. Belleisle, Goree, Guadaloupe, St. Lucia, Martinique, the Fishery, and the Havannah, are glorious monuments of your Grace's talents for negociation. My Lord, we are too well acquainted with your pecuniary character, to think it possible that so many public sacrifices should have been made without some private compensations. Your conduct carries with it an internal evidence, beyond all the legal proofs of a court of justice. Even the callous pride of Lord Egre­mont was alarmed ^*. He saw and felt his own dishonour in corresponding with you; and there certainly was moment, at which he meant to have resisted, had not a fatal lethargy prevailed over his faculties, and carried all sense and memory away with it.

I will not pretend to specify the secret terms on which you were invited to support an ^† administration which Lord Bute pretended to leave in full possession of their ministerial autho­rity, and perfectly maders of themselves. He was not of a temper to relinquish power, though he retired from employ­ment. Stipulations were certainly made between your Grace and him, and certainly violated. After two years submis­sion, you thought you had collected a strength sufficient to controul his influence; and that it was your turn to be a ty­rant, because you had been a slave. When you found your­self mistaken in your opinion of your gracious Master's firmness; disappointment got the better of all your humble dicretion, and carried you to an excess of outrage to his person, as distant from true spirit, as from all decency and respect ^‡. After robbing him of the rights of a King, you would not permit him to preserve the honour of a gentleman. [Page 96]It was then Lord Weymouth was nominated to Ireland, and dispatched (we well remember with what indecent [...]urry) to plunder the treasury of the first fruits of an employment which you well knew he was never to execute ^*.

This sudden declaration of war against the favourite might have given you a momentary merit with the public, if it had either been adopted upon principle, or maintained with re­solution. Without looking back to all your former servili­ty, we need only observe your subsequent conduct, to see upon what motives you acted. Apparently united with Mr. Grenville, you waited until Lord Rockingham's feeble ad­ministration should dissolve in its own weaknss.—The mo­ment their dismission was suspected, the moment you per­ceived that another system was adopted in the closet, you thought it no disgrace to return to your former dependence, and solicit once more the friendship of Lord Bute. You beg­ged an interview, at which he had spirit enough to treat you with contempt.

It would be now of little use to point out, by what a train of weak, injudicious measures, it became necessary, or was thought so, to call you back to a share in the administra­tion. ^† The friends whom you did not in the last instance desert, were not of a character to add strength or credit to government; and at that time your alliance with the Duke of Grafton was, I presume, hardly foreseen. We must look for other stipulations, to account for tha sudden resolution of the closet, by which three of your dependents ^‡ (whose characters, I think, cannot be less respected than they are) were advanced to offices, through which you might again controul the minister, and probably engross the whole directi­on of affairs.

The possession of absolute power is now once more within your reach. The measures you have taken to obtain and confirm it, are too gross to escape the eyes of a discerning ju­dicious prince. His palace is besieged; the lines of circum­vallation are drawing round him; and unless he finds a re­source in his own activity, or in the attachment of the real [Page 97]friends of his family, the best of princes most submit to the confinement of a state-prisoner, until your Grace's death, or some less fortunate event, shall raise the siege. For the pre­sent, you man safely resume that style of insult and menace, which even a private gentleman cannot submit to bear with­out being contemptible. Mr. Mackenzie's history is not yet forgotten; and you may find precedents enough of the mode in which an imperious subject man signify his pleasure to his Sovereign. Where will this gracious Monarch look for assist­ance, when the wretched Grafton could forget his obligati­ons to his Master, and desert him for a hollow alliance with such a man as the Duke of Bedford!

Let us consider you, then, as arrived at the summit of worldly greatness; let us suppose that all your plans of ava­rice and ambition are accomplished, and your most sanguine wishes gratified in the fear as well as the hatred of the peo­ple: Can age itself forget that you are in the last act of life? Can grey hairs make folly venerable? and is there no period to be reserved for meditation and retirement? For shame my Lord: let it not be recorded of you, that the latest moments of your life were dedicated to the same unworthy pursuits, the same busy agitations, in which your youth and manhood were ex­hausted. Consider, that although you cannot disgrace your former life, you are violating the character of age, and ex­posing the impotent imbecility after you have lost the vigour of the passions.

Your friends will ask, perhaps, Whither shall this unhap­py old man retire? Can he remain in the metropolis, where his life has been so often threatened, and his palace so often attacked? If he returns to Wooburn, scorn and mockery await him. He must create a solitude round his estate, if he would avoid the face of reproach and derision. At Plymouth, his destruction would be more than probable; at Exeter, ine­vitable. No honest Englishman will ever forget his attach­ment, nor any honest Scotchman forgive his treachery, to Lord Bute. At every town he enters, he must change his liveries and name. Whichever way he flies, the Hue and Cry of the country pursues him.

In another kingdom, indeed, the blessings of his admi­nistration have been more sensibly felt; his virtues better un­derstood; or at worst they will not, for him alone, forget their hospitality.—As well might VERRES have returned to [Page 98]Sicily. You have twice escaped, my Lord; beware of a third experiment. The indignation of a whole people, plun­dered, insulted, and oppressed as they have been, will not always be disappointed.

It is in vain, therefore, to shift the scene. You can no more fly from your enemies than from yourself. Persecuted abroad, you look into your own heart for consolation, and find nothing but reproaches and despair. But, my Lord, you may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger; and though you cannot be safe, you may cease to be ridicu­lous. I fear you have listened too long to the advice of those pernicious friends with whose interests you have sordidly united your own, and for whom you have sacrificed every thing that ought to be dear to a man of honour. They are still base enough to encourage the follies of your age, as they once did the vices of your youth. As little acquainted with the rules of decorum as with the laws of morality, they will not suffer you to profit by experience, nor even to consult the propriety of a bed character. Even now they tell you, that life is no more than a dramatic scene, in which the hero should preserve his consistency to the last; and that as you lived without [...], you should die without repentance.

LETTER XXIV. TO JUNIUS.

HAVING accidentally seen a republication of your letters, wherein you have been pleased to [...]. that I had sold the companions of my success; I am again obliged to declare the said assertion, to be a most infamous and malicious falsehood; and I again call upon you to stand forth, avow yourself, and prove the charge. If you can make it out to the satisfaction of any one man in the kingdom, I will be con­tent to be thought the worst man in it: if you do not, what must the nation think of you? Party has nothing to do in this affair: you have made a personal attack upon my honour, defamed me by a most vile calumny, which might have pos­sibly [Page 99]sunk into oblivion, had not such uncommon pains been taken to renew and perpetuate this scandal, chiefly because it has been told in good language: for I give you full credit for your elegant diction, well-turned periods, and Attic wit: but wit is oftentimes false, though it may appear brilliant; which is exactly the case of your while performance. But, Sir, I am obliged in the most serious manner to accuse you of being guilty of falsi [...]s. You have said the thing that is not. To support your story, you have recourse to the fol­lowing in s [...]s [...]ble argument: ‘You s [...]ld the companions of “your victory, because when the 16th regiment was given ”to you, you was silent. The conclusion is in [...]itable.’ I believe that such deep and [...] could only come from such an extraordinary writer as Junius. But unfortunately for you, the premises as well as the conclusion are absolutely false. Many applications have been made to the ministry on the subject of the Manilia ransom s [...]ace the time of my being Colonel of that regiment. As I have for some years quitted London, I was obliged to have recourse to the honourable Colonel Manson and Sir Samuel Cornish to negotiate for me: in the last autumn, I personally delivered a memorial to the Earl of Shelburne at his seat in Wiltshire. As you have told us of your importance, that you are a person of rank and fortune, and above a [...] bribe, you may in all probability be not [...] to his Lordship, who can satisfy you of the truth of what I say. But I shall now take the liberty, Sir, to seize your battery and turn it against yourself. If your puerile and tinsel logic could carry the least weight or conviction with it, how must you stan [...] affected by the inevitable con­clusion, as you are pleased to term it? According [...] S [...]l [...] is Guilt. In many of the public papers, you [...] been called in the m [...]st direct and offensive term [...], a [...] [...] a coward. When did you reply to these f [...]u [...] accusations? You have been quite silent; quite chop-fallen: therefore, be­cause you was silent, the nation has a right to pronounce you to be both a har and a coward from your own argument. But, Sir, I will give you fair play; I will afford you an oppor­tunity to wipe off the first appellation, by desiring the proofs of your charge against me. Produce them! To wipe off the last, produce yourself. People cannot bear any longer your Lim's stin, and the desicable [...] of the old Roman name which you have affected. For the future as­sume [Page 100]the name of some modern ^* bravo and dark assassin: let your appellation have some affinity to your practice. But if I must perish, Junius, let me perish in the face of day; be for once a generous and open enemy. I allow that Gothic ap­peals to cold iron are no better proofs of a man's honesty and veracity, than hot iron and burning ploughshares are of fe­male chastity: but a soldier's honour is as delicate as a wo­man's; it must not be suspected; you have dared to throw more than a suspicion upon mine: you cannot but know the consequences, which even the meekness of Christianity would pardon me for, after the injury you have done me.

LETTER XXV. Hent lateri lethalis ar [...]de. TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE EATH.

AFTER so long an interval, I did not expect to see the debate revived between us. My answer to your last let­ler shall be short; for I write to you with reluctance, and I hope we shall now conclude our correspondence for ever.

Had you been originally and without provocation attacked by an anonymous writer, you would have some right to de­mand his name. But in this cause you are a volunteer. You engaged in it with the unpremeditated gallantry of a soldier. You were content to set your name in opposition to a man who would probably continue in concealment. You under­stood the terms upon which we were to correspond and gave at least a tacit assent to them. After voluntarily attacking me under the character of Junius, what possible right have you to know me under any other? Will you forgive me if I insinuate to you, that you foresaw some honour in the ap­parent spirit of coming forward in person, and that you were not quite indifferent to the display of your literary qualifi­cations?

You cannot but know, that the republication of my let­ters was no more than the catchpenny contrivance of a prin­ter, in which it was impossible I should be concerned, and for which I am no way answerable. At the s [...]me time I wish you to understand, that if I do not take the trouble of re­printing these papers, it is not from any fear of giving of­ [...]ence to Sir William Draper.

Your remarks upon a signature adopted merely for distinc­tion, are unworthy of notice: but when you tell me I have submitted to be called a liar and a coward, I must ask you in my turn, Whether you seriously think it any way incum­bent upon me to take notice of the silly invectives of every simpleton who writes in a newspaper; and what opinion you would have conceived of my discretion, if I had suffered my­self to be the dupe of so shallow an artifice?

Your appeal to the sword, though consistent enough with your late profession, will neither prove your innocence, nor clear you from suspicion.—Your complaints with regard to the Manilla ranson [...] were for a considerable time a distress to government. You were appointed (greatly out of your turn) to the command of a regiment; and daring that admi­nistration we heard no more of Sir William Draper. The facts of which I speak may indeed be variously accounted for, but they are too notorious to be denied: and I think you might have learnt at the university, that a false conclusion is an error in argument, not a breach of veracity. Your soli­citations, I doubt not, were renewed under another admini­stration. Admitting the fact, I fear an indifferent person would only infer from it, that experience had made you ac­quainted with the benefits of complaining. Remember, Sir, that you have yourself confessed, that, considering the critical situation of this country, the ministry are in the right to temporize with Spain. This confession reduces you to an unfortunate dilemma. By renewing your solicitations, you must either mean to force your country into a wa [...] at a most unseasonable juncture; or, having no view or expectation of that kind, that you look for nothing but a private compensation to yourself.

As to me, it is by no means necessary that I should be exposed to the resentment of the worst and most powerful men in this country, though I may be indifferent about your's. Though yea would fight, there are others who would assassinate.

But after all, Sir, where is the injury? You assure me, that my logic is puerile and tinsel; that it carries not the least weight or conviction; that my premises are false, and my conclusions absurd. If this be a just description of me, how is it possible for such a writer to disturb your peace of mind, or to injure a character so well established as yours? Take care, Sir William, how you indulge this unruly tem­per, lest the wool [...] should suspect that consciene has some share in you resentments. You have more to fear from the treachery of your own passions, than from any malevolence of mine.

I believe, Sir, you will never know me. A considerable time must certainly clapse before we are personally acquaint­ed. You need not, howevre, regret the delay, or suffer a [...] apprehension that any length of time can restore you to the Christian meekness of your temper, and disapppoint your pre­sent indignation. If I understand your charac [...], there is it your own breast a repository, in which your resentments may be safely laid up for future occasions, and preserved without the hazard of diminution. The [...] I thought had only belonge [...] to the worst character of antiquity. The text is in Tacitus,— you know best where to look for the commentary.

LETTER XXVI. A WORD AT PARTING TO JUNIUS.

AS you have not favoured me with either of the explana­tions demanded of you, I can have nothing more to [Page 103]say to you upon my own account. Your mercy to me, or tenderness for yourself, h [...]s been very great. The public will judge of your motives. If your excess of modesty forbids you to produce either the proofs, or yourself, I will excuse it. Take courage; I have not the temper of Tiberius, any more than the rank or power. You, indeed, are a tyrant of another sort; and upon your political bed of torture can excruciate any subject, from a first minister down to such a grab or butterfly as myself; like another detested tyrant of antiquity, [...] make the wretched sufferer fit the bed, if the bed will not fit the sufferer, by disjointing or tearing the trembling limbs until they are stretched to its extremity. But courage, constancy and patience under torments, have some­times caused the most hardened monsters to relent, and for­give the object of their cruelty. You, Sir, are determined to try all that haman nature can endure, until she expires; else, was it possible that you could be the author of that most inhuman letter to the Dake of Bedford, I have read with astonishment and horror? Where, Sir, where were the feelings of your own heart, when you could upbraid a most affectionate father with the loss of his only and most amia­ble son? Read over again those cruel lines of yours, and let them wring your very soul. Cannot political questions be discussed without descending to the most odious personalities? Most you go wantonly out of your way to torment declin­ing age, because the Duke of Bedford may have quarelled with those whose cause and politics you espouse? For shame! for shame! As you have spoke daggers to him, you may just­ly dread the use of them against your own breast, did a want of courage, or of noble sentiments, stimulate him to such mean revenge. He is above it; he is brave. Do you fan­cy that your own base arts have infected our whole island? But your own reflections, your own conscience, must and will, if you have any spark of humanity remaining, give [Page 104]him most ample revenge. Not all the power of words with which you are so graced, will ever wash out, or even palliate, this foul blot in your character. I have not time at present to dissect your letter so minutely as I could wish; but I will be bold enough to say, that it is (as to reason and argument) the most extraordinary piece of florid impotence hat was ever imposed upon the eyes and ears of the too credulous and de­luded mob. It accuses the Duke of Bedford of high trea­son. Upon what foundation? You tell us, ‘that the “Duke's pecuniary character makes it more than probable, that he could not have made such sacrifices at the peace, without some private compensations: that his conduct carried with it an interior evidence, beyond all the legal proofs ”of a court of justice.’

My academical education, Sir, bids me tell you, that it is necessary to establish the truth of your first proposition, before you presume to draw inferences from it. First prove the ava­rice, before you make the rash, hasty, and most wicked con­clusion. This father, Junius, whom you call avaricious, al­lowed that son eight thousand pounds a year. Upon his most unfortunate death, which your usual good-nature [...]ook care to remind him of, he greatly increased the jointure of the afflict­ed lady his widow. Is this avarice? Is this doing good by stealth? It is upon record.

If exact order, method, and true oeconomy as a master of a family; if splendor and just magnificence, without wild waste and thoughtless extravagance, may constitute the character of an avaricious man, the Duke is guilty. But for a moment let us admit that an ambassador may love money too much; what proof do you give that he has taken any to betray his country? Is it hearsay, or the evidence of letters, or ocular; or the evidence of those concerned in this black affair? Pro­duce your authorities to the public. It is an impudent kind of sorcery, to attempt to blind us with the smoke, without convincing us that the fire has existed. You first brand him with a vice that he is free from, to render him odious and su­spected. Suspicion is the foul weapon with which you make all your chief attacks; with that you stab. But shall one of the first subjects of the realm be ruined in his fame; shall even his life be in constant danger, from a charge built upon such sandy foundations? Must his house be besieged by lawless ruffians, his journey impeded, and even the asylum of an altar [Page 105]be insecure from assertions so base and false? Potent as he is, the Duke is amenable to justice; if guilty, punishable. The Patliament is the high and solemn tribunal for matters of such great moment. To that be they submitted. But I hope al­so that some notice will be taken of, and some punishment inflicted upon, false accusers; especially upon such, Junius, who are wilfully false. In any truth I will agree even with Junius; will agree with him that it is highly unbecoming the dignity of peers to tamper with boroughs. Aristocracy is as fatal as democracy. Our constitution admits of neither. It lores 2 King, Lo [...]s, and Commons, really chosen by the [...]bought suffrages of a free people. But if corruption only shifts hands; if the wealthy commoner gives the bribe, in­stead of the potent poor, is the state better served by this ex­change? Is the real emancipation of the borough effected, be­cause now parchment-bonds may possibly supersede the old? To say the truth, wherever such practices prevail, they are equally criminal to and destructive of our freedom.

The rest of your declamation is scarce wort considering, excerting for the elegance of the language. Like Hamlet in the play, you produce two pictures; you tell us, that one is no [...] [...]e the Duke of Bedford; then you bring a most hide­ous caricatura, and tell us of the resemblance; but multum ab­l [...] image.

All your long tedious accounts of the ministerial quarrels, and the intrigues of the cabinet, are reducible to a few short lines; and to convince you, Sir, that I do not mean to flatter any minister, either past or present, these are my thoughts: They seem to have acted like lovers, or children; have ^* pouted, quarrelled, cried, kissed, and been friends again, as the objects of desire, the ministerial rattles, have been put in­to their hands. But such proceedings are very unworthy of the gravity and dignity of a great nation. We do not want men of abilities; but we have wanted steadiness; we want unanimity: your letters, Junius, will not contribute thereto. You may one day expire by a flame of your own kindling. But it my humble opinion, that lenity and moderation, pardon and oblivion, will disappoint the efforts of all the se­ditious [Page 106]in the land, and extinguish their wide-spreading fires. I have lived with this sentiment; with this I shall die.

LETTER XXVII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

IF Sir William Draper's bed be a bed of torture, he has made it for himself. I shall never interrupt his repose. Having changed the subject, there are parts of his last letter not undeserving of a reply. Leaving his private character and conduct out of the question, I shall consider him merely in the capacity of an author, whose labours certainly do no discredit to a newspaper.

We say, in common discourse, that a man may be his own enemy; and the frequency of the fact makes the expression in­teligible. But that a man should be the bitterest enemy of his friends, implies a contradiction of a peculiar nature. There is something in it, which cannot be conceived without a con­fusion of ideas, nor expressed without a solecism in language. Sir William Drapes is still that fatal friend Lord Granby found him. Yet I am ready to do justice to his generosity; if indeed it be not something more than generous, to be the voluntary advocate of men who think themselves injured by his assistance, and to consider nothing in the cause he adopts but the difficulty of defending i [...]. I thought however he had been better [...]ad in the history of the human heart, tha [...] [...] compare or confound the tortures of the body with those of the mind. He ought to have known, though perhaps it might not be his interest to confess, that no outward tyranny can reach the mind. If conscience plays the tyrant, it would be greatly for the benefit of the world that she were more arbi­trary, and far less placable, than some men find her.

Bu it seems I have outraged the feelings of a father's heart.—And I indeed so injudicious? Does Sir William Dra­per think I would have hazarded my credit with a generous nation, by so gross a violation of the laws of humanity? Does he think I am so little acquainted with the first and [Page 107]noblest characteristic of Englishmen? Or how will be recon­cile such folly with an understanding so full of artifice as mine? Had be been a father, he would have been but little offended with the severity of the reproach, for his mind would have been filled with the justice of it. He would have seen that I did not insult the feelings of a father, but the father who felt nothing. He would have trusted to the evidence of his own paternal heart; and boldly denied the possibility of the fact, instead of defending it. Against whom then will his honest indignation be directed, when I assure him, that this whole town beheld the Duke of Bedford's conduct upon the death of his son, with horror and astonishment? Sir William Draper does himself but little ho­nour in opposing the general sense of his country. The peo­ple are seldom wrong in their opinions;—in their sentiments they are never mistaken. There may be a vanity perhaps in a singular way of thinking;—but when a man professes a want of those feelings which do honour to the multitude, he ha­zards something infinitely more important than the character of his understanding. After all, as Sir William may possibly be in earnest in his anxiety for the Duke of Bedford. I should be glad to relieve him from it. He may rest assured this wor­thy nobleman laughs, with equal indifference, at my reproach­es, and Sir William's distress about him. But here let it stop. Even the Duke of Bedford, insensible as he is, will consult the tranquility of his life, in not provoking the moderation of my temper. If, from the profoundest contempt, I should ever rise into anger, he should soon find, that all I have al­ready said of him was lenity and compassion.

Out of a long catalogue, Sir William Draper has confined himself to the refutation of two charges only. The rest he had not time to discuss; and indeed it would have been a la­borious undertaking. To draw up a defence of such a series of enormities, would have required a life at least as long as that which has been uniformly employed in the practice of them. The public opinion of the Duke of Bedford's extreme oeconomy is, it seems, entirely without foundation. Though not very prodigal abroad, in his own family at least he is re­gular and munificent. He pays his debts, abhore a beg [...] and makes a handsome provision for his son. His chari [...] has improved upon the proverb, and ended where it began. Admitting the whole force of this single instance of his do­mestic [Page 108]generosity (wonderful indeed, considering the narrow­ness of his fortune, and the little merit of his only son), the public may still perhaps be dissatisfied, and demand some other less equivocal proofs of his munificence. Sir William Draper should have entered boldly into the detail—of indigence re­lieved—of arts encouraged—of science patronized, men of learning protected, and works of genius rewarded;—in short, had there been a single instance, besides Mr. Rigby ^*, of blush­ing merit brought forward by the Duke for the service of the public, it should not have been omitted.

I wish it were possible to establish my inference with the same certainty, on which I believe the principle is founded. My conclusion, however, was not drawn from the principle alone. I am not so unjust as to reason from one crime to another; though I think, that, of all the vices, avarice is most apt to taint and corrupt the heart. I combined the known temper of the man with the extravagant concessions made by the ambassadors and though I doubt not sufficient care was taken to leave no document of any treasonable nego­ciation, I still maintain that the conduct ^† of this minister carries with it an internal and convincing evidence against him. Sir William Draper seems not to know the value or force of such a proof. He will not permit us to judge of the motives of men, by the manifest tendency of their actions, nor by the notorious character of their minds. He calls for papers and witnesses, with a triumphant security; as if nothing could be true, but what could be proved in a court of jus­tice. Yet a religious man might have remembered, upon what foundation some truths, most interesting to mankind, have been received and established. If it were not for the internal evidence, which the purest of religions carries with it, what would have become of his once well-quoted deca­logue, and of the meekness of his Christianity?

The generous warmth of his resentment makes him con­found the order of events. He forgets that the insults and distresses which the Duke of Bedford has suffered, and which Sir William has lamented with many delicate touches of the [Page 109]true pathetic, were only recorded in my letter to his Grace, not occasioned by it. It was a simple candid narrative of facts; though, for aught I know, it may carry with it something prophetic. His Grace undoubtedly has received several ominous hints; and I think, in certain circumstan­ces, a wise man would do well to prepare himself for the event.

But I have a charge of a heavier nature against Sir William Draper. He tells us that the Duke of Bedford is amenable to justice; that Parliament is a high and solemn tribunal; and that if guilty, he may be punished by due course of law: and all this he says with as much gravity as if he be­lieved one word of the matter. I hope, indeed, the day of impeachments will arrive, before this nobleman escapes out of life;—but to refer us to that mode of proceeding now, with such a ministry, and such a House of Commons as the pre­sent, what is it, but an indecent mockery of the common sense of the nation? I think he might have contented him­self with defending the greatest enemy, without insulting the distresses of his country.

His concluding declaration of his opinion with re [...] the present condition of affairs, is too loose and und [...] ­ed to be of any service to the public. How strange [...] that this gentleman should dedicate so much time and argu­ment to the defence of worthless or indifferent characters, while [...] gives but seven solitary lines to the only subject who [...] can deserve his attention, or do credit to his abili­ties!

LETTER XXVIII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I VERY sincerely applaud the spirit with which a lady has paid the debt of gratitude to her benefactor. Though I think she has mistaken the point, she shows a [...] makes her respectable. The question turned upon the per­sonal generosity or avarice of a man, whose private fortune is immense. The proofs of his munificence must be drawn [Page 110]from the uses to which he has applied that fortune. I was not speaking of a Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, but of a rich English Duke, whose wealth gave him the means of doing as much good in this country, as he derived from his power in another. I am far from wishing to lessen the merit of this single benevolent action;—perhaps it is the more conspicuous from standing alone. All I mean to say is, that it proves nothing in the present argument.

LETTER XXIX. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I AM well assured that Junius will never descend to a dis­pute with such a writer as Modestus (whose letter appear­ed in the gazetteer of Monday) especially as the dispute must be chiefly about words. Notwithstanding the partiality of the public, it does not appear that Junius values himself up­on any superior still in composition; and I hope his time will always be more usefully employed, than in the trifling refinements of verbal criticism. Modestus, however, shall have no reason to triumph in the silence and moderation of Junius. If he knew as much of the propriety of lan­guage, as I believe he does of the facts in question, he would have been as cautions of attacking Junius upon his composi­tion, as he seems to be of entering into the subject of it: yet after all, the last is the only article of any importance to the public.

I do not wonder at the unremitted rancour with which the Duke of Bedford and his adherents invariably speak of a na­tion, which we well know has been too much injured to be easily forgiven. But why must Junius be an Irishman?— The absurdity of his writings betrays him—Waving all considera­tion of the insult offered by Modestus to the declared judg­ment of the people (they may well bear this among the rest.) let us follow the several instances, and try whether the charge the fairly supported.

First then—The leaving a man to enjoy such repose as he can find upon a b [...]d of torture, is severe indeed; perhaps too much so, when applied to such a trifler as Sir William Dra­per, but there is nothing absurd either in the idea or expres­sion. Modestus cannot distinguish between a sarcasm and a contradiction.

2 I affirm with Junius, that it is the fr [...]pu [...]y of the fact, which alone can make us comprehend how a man can be his own enemy. We should never arrive at the complex idea conveyed by those words, if we had only seen one or two in­stances of a man acting to his own prejudice. Offer the pro­position to a child, or a man unused to comp [...]l his ideas, and you will soon see how little either of them understand you. It is not a simple idea arising from a single fact; but a very complex idea arising from many facts, well observed, and accurately compared.

3. Modestus could not, without great affection, mistake the meaning of Jurius when he speaks of a man who is the bitterest ememy of his friends. He could not but know, that Jurius spoke, not of a false or hollow friendship, but of a real intention to serve, and that intention producing the wor [...] effects of enmity. Whether the description he strictly applicable to Sir William Draper, is another question. Ju­nius does not say that it is m [...]re cri [...]iral for man to be the enemy of his friends than his own, though he might have affirmed it with truth. In a moral light, a man may cer­tainly take greater liberties with himself than with another. To sacrifice ourselves merely, is a weakness we may indulge in, if we think proper; for we do it at our own hazard and ex­pence: but, under the pretence of friendship, to sport with the reputation, or sacrifice the honour, of another, is some­thing worse than weakness; and if, in favour of the foolish intention, we do not call it a crime, we must all [...] at least that it arises from [...] overw [...]e [...]ing, busy, me [...]ling impu­dence.— Junius says only, and he says truly, that it is more extraordinary, that it involves a greater contradiction than the other; and is it not a maxim received in life, that in general we can determine more wisely for others than for ourselves? The reason of it is so clear in argument, that it hardly wants the confirmation of experience. Sir William Draper, I con­fess, is an exception to the general rule, though not much to his credit.

4. If this gentleman will go back to his Ethicks, he may perhaps discover the truth of what Junius says, that [...] can reach the mind. The tortures of the body may be introduced by way of ornament or illustration to represent those of the mind; but strictly there is no similitude between them. They are totally different both in their cause and operation. The wretch who suffers upon the rack, is mere­ly [...]; but when the mind is tortured, it is not at the command of any outward power. It is the sense of guilt which constitutes the punishment, and creates that torture with which the guilty mind acts upon itself.

5. He misquotes what Junius says of conscience; and makes the sentence ridiculous, by making it his own.

So much for composition: now for fact.— Junius, it seems, has mistaken the Duke of Bedford. His Grace had all the proper feelings of a father, though he took care to suppress the appearance of them. Yet it was an occasion, one would think, on which he need not have been as [...]amed of his grief; on which less fortitude would have done him more honour. I can conceive indeed a benevolent motive for his endeavour­ing to assume an air of tranquillity in his own family; and I wish I could discover any thing, in the rest of his character, to justify my assigning that motive to his behaviour. But is there no medium? Was it necessary to appear abroad, to bal­let at the India-house, and make a public display, though it were only of an apparent insensibility?—I know we are [...]d­ing on tender ground, and Junius, I am convinced does not wish to argue this question farther. Let the friends of the Duke of Bedford observe that humble silence which becomes their situation. They should recollect that there are still some facts in store, at which human nature would shudder. I shall be understood by those whom it concerns, when I say that these facts go farther than to the Duke ^*.

It is not inconsistent to suppose that a man may be quite indifferent about one part of a charge, yet severely stung with another; and though he feels no remorse, that he may wish to be revenged. The charge of insensibility carries a re­proach indeed, but no danger with it.— Junius had said, there are others who would [...], knowing his man, will not suffer the insinuation to be divided, but fixes it all upon the Duke of Bedford.

Without determining upon what evidence Junius would [...], I will venture to maintain, in opposi­tion to Modestus, or to Mr. Rigby (who is certainly not Mo­destus, or any other of the Bloomsbury gang, that the evidence against the Duke of Bedford is as strong as any presumptive evidence can be. It depends upon a combination of facts and reasoning, which require no confirmation from the anecdote of the Duke of Marlborough. This anecdote was referred to, merely to show how [...] a great man may be to receive a great bribe; and if Modestus could read the original, he would see that the expression, why [...] accepted, was probably the only one in our language that exactly fitted the case: The bribe, offered to the Duke of Marlborough, was not refused.

I cannot conclude without taking notice of this honest gentleman's learning, and wishing he had given us a little more of it. When he accidentally found himself so near speaking truth, it was rather unfair of him to leave out the [...]. As it stands, the [...] may be divided equally between Mr. Rigby and the Duke of Bed­ford. Mr. Rigby, I take for granted, will assert his natural right to the modesty of the quotation, and leave all the op­probrium to his Grace.

LETTER XXX. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

IT is not wonderful that the great cause, in which this country is engaged, should have roused and engrossed the [Page 114]whole attention of the people. I rather admire the generous spirit with which they feel and assert their interest in this im­portant question, than blame them for their indifference about any other. When the constitution is openly invaded, when the first original right of the people, from which all laws de­rive their authority, is directly attacked, inferior grievances naturally lose their force, and are suffered to pass by with­out punishment or observation. The present ministry are as singularly marked by their fortune as by their crimes. In­stead of atoning for their former conduct by any wise or po­pular measure, they have found, in the enormity of one fact, a cover and defence for a series of measures, which must have been fatal to any other administration. I fear we are too remiss in observing the whole of their proceedings. Struck with the principal figure, we do not sufficiently mark in what manner the canvass is filled up. Yet surely it is not a less crime, nor less fatal in its consequences, to encourage a flagrant breach of the law by a military force, than to make use of the forms of Parliament to destroy the constitution.—The ministry seem determined to give us a choice of difficul­ties, and, if possible, to perplex us with the multitude of their offences. The expedient is worthy of the Duke of Grafton. But though he has preserved a gradation and va­riety in his measures, we should remember that the princi­ple is uniform. Dictated by the same spirit, they deserve the same attention. The following fact, though of the most alarming nature, has not yet been clearly stated to the public; nor have the consequences of it been sufficiently understood. Had I taken it up at an earlier period, I should have been accused of an uncandid, malignant precipitation, as if I watched for an unfair advantage against the ministry, and would not allow them a reasonable time to do their duty. They now stand without excuse. Instead of employing the leisure they have had in a strict examination of the offence, and punishing the offenders, they seem to have considerd that indulgence as a security to them; that, with a little time and management, the whole affair might be buried in silence and utterly forgotten.

A major-general ^* of the army is arrested by the sheriff's officers for a considerable debt. He persuades them to con­duct him to the Tilt-yard in St. James's Park, under some [Page 115]pretence of business, which it imported him to settle before he was confined. He applies to a serjeant, not immediately on duty, to assist with some of his companions in favouring his escape. He attempts it. A bustle ensues. The bailiffs claim their prisoner. An officer of the guards ^†, not then on duty, takes part in the affair, applies to the lieutenant ^‡ commanding the Tilt-yard guard, and urges him to turn out his guard to relieve a general officer. The lieutenant de­clines interfering in person; but stands at a distance, and suf­fers the business to be done. The officer takes upon himself to order out the guard. In a moment they are in arms, quit their guard, march, rescue the general, and drive away the sheriff's officers; who in vain represent their right to the prisoner, and the nature of the arrest. The soldiers first con­duct the general into the guard-room; then escort him to a place of safety, with bayonets fixed, and in all the forms of military triumph. I will not enlarge upon the various cir­cumstances which attended this atrocious proceeding. The personal injury received by the officers of the law in the ex­ecution of their duty, may perhaps be atoned for by some private compensation. I consider nothing but the wound which has been given to the law itself, to which no remedy has been applied, no satisfaction made. Neither is it my design to dwell upon the misconduct of the parties concerned, any farther than is necessary to show the behaviour of the ministry in its true light. I would make every compassi­onate allowance for the infatuation of the prisoner, the false and criminal discretion of one officer, and the madness of ano­ther. I would leave the ignorant soldiers entirely out of the question. They are certainly the least guilty, though they are the only persons who have yet suffered, even in the appear­ance of punishment ^*. The fact itself, however atrocious, is not the principal point to be considered. It might have happened under a more regular government, and with guards better disciplined than ours. The main question is. In what manner have the ministry acted on this extraordinary occa­sion? A general officer calls upon the King's own guard, then actually on duty, to rescue him from the laws of his country; yet at this moment he is in a situation no worse [Page 116]than if he had not committed an offence, equally enormous in a civil and military view.—A lieutenant upon duty de­signedly quits his guard, and suffers it to be drawn out by another officer, for a purpose which he well knew (as we may collect from an appearance of caution, which only makes his behaviour the more criminal) to be in the highest degree illegal. Has this gentleman been called to a court-martial to answer for his conduct? No. Has it been cen­sured? No. Has it been in any shape inquired into? No. Another lieutenant, not upon duty, nor even in his regi­mentals, is daring enough to order out the King's guard, over which he had properly no command, and engages them in a violation of the laws of his country, perhaps the most singular and extravagant that ever was attempted.—What punishment has be suffered? Literally none. Supposing he should be prosecuted at common law for the rescue, will that circumstance, from which the ministry can derive no merit, excuse or justify their suffering so flagrant a breach of military discipline to pass by unpunished and unnoticed? Are they aware of the outrage offered to their Sovereign, when his own proper guard is ordered out to stop by main force the execution of his laws? What are we to conclude from so scandalous a neglect of their duty, but that they have other views, which can only be answered by securing the at­tachment of the guards? The minister would hardly be so cautious of offending them, if he did not mean, in due time, to call for their assistance.

With respect to the parties themselves, let it be observed, that these gentlemen are neither young officers, nor very young men. Had they belonged to the unfiedged race of ensigns, who infest our streets, and dishonour our public places, it might perhaps be sufficient to send them back to that discipline, from which their parents, judging lightly from the maturity of their vices, had removed them too soon. In this case, I am sorry to see, not so much the fol­ly of youth, as the spirit of the corps, and the connivance of government. I do not question that there are many brave and worthy officers in the regiments of guards, but consider­ing them as a corps, I fear it will be found that they are nei­ther good soldiers nor good subjects. Far be it from me to insinuate the most distant reflection upon the army. On the contrary, I honour and esteem the profession; and if these [Page 117]gentlemen were better soldiers, I am sure they would be bet­ter subjects.

It is not that there is any internal vice or defect in the profession itself as regulated in this country, but that it is the spirit of this particular corps to despise their profession; and that, while they vainly assume the lead of the army, they make it matter of impertinent comparison, and triumph over the bravest troops in the world (I mean our marching regiments). that they indeed stand upon higher ground, and are privileged to neglect the laborious forms of military dis­cipline and duty. Without dwelling longer upon a most in­vidious subject, I shall leave it to military men, who have seen a service more active than the parade, to determine whe­ther or no I speak truth.

How far this dangerous spirit has been encouraged by go­vernment, and to what pernicious purposes it may be applied hereafter, well deserves our most serious consideration. I know, indeed, that when this affair happened, an affectation of alarm ran through the ministry. Something must be done to save appearances. The case was too flagrant to be passed by absolutely without notice. But how have they acted? Instead of ordering the officers concerned (and who, strictly speaking, are alone guilty) to be put under arrest, and brought to trial, they would have it understood that they did their duty completely, in confining a serjeant and four private sol­diers, until they should be demanded by the civil power; so that while the officers, who ordered or permitted the poor men who obeyed these orders, who in a military view are no ways responsible for what they did, and who for that rea­son have been discharged by the civil magistrates, are the only objects whom the ministry have thought proper to ex­pose to punishment. They did not venture to bring even these men to a court-martial, because they knew their evi­dence would be fatal to some persons, whom they were de­termined to protest. Otherwise, I doubt not, the lives of these unhappy, friendless soldiers, would long since have been sacrificed without scruple to the security of their guilty officers.

I have been accused of endeavouring to inflame the passions of the people.—Let me now appeal to their understanding. If there be any tool of administration daring enough to deny these facts, or shameless enough to defend the conduct of the [Page 118]ministry, let him come forward. I care not under what title he appears. He shall find me ready to maintain the truth of my narrative, and the justice of my observations upon it, as the hazard of my utmost credit with the public.

Under the most arbitrary governments, the common ad­ministration of justice is suffered to take its course. The subject, though robbed of his share in the legislature, is still protected by the laws. The political freedom of the English constitution was once the pride and honour of an Englishman. The civil equality of the laws preserved the property, and de­fened the safety, of the subject. Are these glorious privi­leges the birth-right of the people; or are we only tenants as the will of the ministry?—But that I know there is a spirit of resistance in the hearts of my countrymen; that they value life, not by its conveniencies, but by the independence and dignity of their condition; I should, at this moment appeal only to their discretion. I should persuade them to banish from their minds all memory of what we were; I should tell them, this is not a time to remember that we were English­men; and give it as my last advice, to make some early agree­ment with the minister, that, since it has pleased him to rob us of those political right which once distinguished the inha­bitants of a country where honour was happiness, he would leave us at least the humble obedient security of citizens, and graciously condescend to protect us in our submission.

LETTER XXXI. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE variety of remarks which have been made upon the last letter of Junius, and my own opinion of the writer, who whatever may be his faults, is certainly not a weak man, have induced me to examine, with some attention, the sub­ject of that letter. I could not persuade myself, that, while he had plenty of important materials, he would have taken up a light or trifling occasion to attack the ministry; and much [...]ss could I conceive that it was his intention to ruin the offi­cers [Page 119]concerned in the rescue of General Gansel, or to injure the General himself. These are little objects, and can no way contribute to the great purposes he seems to have in view by addressing himself to the public.—Without considering the ornamented style he has adopted, I determined to look farther into the matter, before I decided upon the merits of his letter. The first step I took was to inquire into the truth of the facts; for if these were either false or misrepresented, the most artful exertion of his understanding, in reasoning upon them, would only be a disgrace to him. Now, Sir, I hare sound every circumstance stated by Junius to be literally true. General Gansel persuaded the bailiffs to conduct him to the parade, and certainly solicited a corporal and other Soldiers to assist him in making this escape. Captain Dodd did certainly apply to Captain Garth for the assistance of his guard. Captain Garth declined appearing himself; but stood aloof, while the other took upon him to order out the King's guard, and by main force rescued the General. It is also strictly true, that the General was escorted by a file of musqueteers to a place of security. These are facts, Mr. Woodfall, which I promise you no gentleman in the guards will de [...]y. If all or any of them are false, why are they not contradicted by the parties themselves? However secure against military censure, they have yet a character to lose; and surely, if they are innocent, it is not beneath them to pay some attention to the opinion of the public.

The force of Junius's observations upon these facts cannot be better marked, than by stating and refuting the objections which have been made to them. One writer says, ‘Admit­ting “the officers have offended, they are punishable at com­mon law; and will you have a British subject punished ”twice for the same offence?’—I answer, that they have committed two offences, both very enormous, and violated two laws. The rescue is one offence, the flagrant breach of discipline another: and hitherto it does not appean that they have been punished, or even censured, for either. Another gentleman lays much stress upon the calamity of the case; and instead of disproving facts, appeals at once to the compassion of the public. This idea, as well as the insinuation that de­priving the parties of their commissions would be an injury to their creditors, can only refer to General Gansel. The other officers are in no distress, therefore have no claim to compassion; nor [Page 120]does it appear, that their creditors, of they have any, are more likely to be satisfied by their continuing in the guards. But this sort of plea will not hold in any shape. Compassion to an offender, who has grossly violated the laws, is in effect a cruelty to the peaceable object who has observed them; and, even admitting the force or any alleviating circumstances, it is nevertheless true, that, in this instance, the royal compassi­on has interposed too soon. The legal and proper mercy of a King of England may remit the punishment, but ought not to stop the trial.

Besides these particular objections, there has been a cry raised against Junius for his malice and injustice in attacking the ministry, upon an event which they could neither hinder nor foresee. This, I must affirm, is a false representation of his argument. He lays no stress upon the event itself as a ground of accusation against the ministry, but dwells entire­ly upon their subsequent conduct. He does not say that they are answerable for the offence; but for the scandalous neglect of their duty, in suffering an offence, so flagrant, to pass by without notice or inquiry. Supposing them ever so regard­less of what they owe to the public, and as indifferent about the opinion as they are about the interests of their country, what answer, as officers of the crown, will they give to Junius, when he asks them, Are they aware of the outrage offer dado their Sovereign, when his own proper guar is ordered out to stop by main force the execution of his laws?—And when we see a mi­nistry giving such a strange unaccountable protection to the officers of the guards, is it unfair to suspect, that they have some secret and unwarrantable motives for their conduct? If they feel themselves injured by such a suspicion, why do they not immediately clear themselves from it, by doing their duty? For the honour of the guards, I cannot help expressing another suspicion, that, if the commanding officer had not received a secret injunction to the contrary, he would, in the ordinary course of his business, have applied for a court-mar­tial to try the two subalterns; the one for quitting his guard, the other for taking upon him the command of the guard, and employing it in the manner he did. I do not mean to enter into or defend the severity with which Junius treats the guards. On the contrary, I will suppose, for a moment, that they de­serve a very different character. If this be true, in what light will they consider the conduct of two subalterns, but as a ge­neral [Page 121]rep [...]ch and disgrace to the whole corps? And will they not with to see them censured in a military way, if it were only for the credit and [...] line of the regiment?

Upon the whole Sir, the ministry from to me to have taken a very improper advantage of the [...]-nature of the publi, whose humanity, they found, considering nothing in this affair, but the discuss of General Gansel. they would [...], seat it was only a common rescue by a see disor­derly soldiers, and not the formal deliberate act of the King's good heated [...] officer; and the public has fallen into the exception. I think, therefore, we are obliged to [...] for the cate he has taken to inquire into the facts, and for the just [...] with which he has given them to the world.—For my [...] part. I am as unwilling as any man to load the [...], really. Sir, the precedent, with respect to the [...], is of a most important nature, and alarming on [...] considering the consequences with which it may be [...] to defence a parliamentary inquiry: when the g [...] is are daring enough, not only to violate their own dis­cipline, [...] passably and with the most atrocious violence to [...] the execution of the laws, and when such extraordinary essences pass with impunity, believe me, Sir, the precedent [...] deep.

LETTER XXXII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I ADMIT the claim of a gentleman who publishes in the Gazetteer under the name of [...]. He has some right to expect an answer from me; though, I think, not so mach from the merit or importance of his objections, as from my own voluntary engagement. I had a reason for not taking notice of him [...] which, as he is a candid person. I be­lieve he will think sufficient. In my first better, I took for granted, from the time which had elapsed, that there was no intention to censure, nor even to try, the persons concerned in the rescue of General Gansel; but [...] having since [Page 122]either affirmed, or strongly insinuated, that the offende [...] might still be brought to legal trial, any attempt to pre­judge the cause, or to prejudice the mines of a jury or a court-martial, would be highly improper.

A men more hostile to the ministry than I am, would not so often remind them of their duty. If the Duke of Grafton will not perform the duty of his station, why is be minister? I will not descend to a scurrilous altercation with any [...]; but this is a subject two important to be passed over with [...] indifference. If the gentlement, whose conduct is in [...] are not brought to a trial, the Duke of Grafton shall bear from me again.

The motives on which I am supposed to have taken up this cause, are of little importance, compared with the facts them­selves, and the observations I have made upon them. With­out a rain profession of integrity, which in these [...] justly be suspected, I shall show myself in effect a friend to the interests of my countrymen, and leave in to them to deter­mine, whether I am moved by a personal malevolence to three private gentlemen, or merely by a hope of perplexing the mi­nistry; or whether I am animated by a just and [...]able purpose of obtaining a satisfaction to the [...] of this country, equal, if possible, to the violation they have suffered.

LETTER XXXIII. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

THOUGH my opinion of your Grace's integrity was but little affected by the coyness with which you received Mr. Vaughan's proposals, I confess I give you some credit for your discretion. You had a fair opportunity of display­ing a certain delicacy, of which you had not been suspected; and you were in the right to make use of it. By laying in a moderate stock of reputation, you undoubtedly meant to pro­vide for the future necessities of your character, that, with an honourable resistance upon receive, you may snfely indulge your genius, and yield to a favourite inclination with secu­rity. [Page 123]But you have discovered your purposes too soon; and, instead of the modest reserve of virtue, have shown as the termagant chastity of a prude, who gratifies her passions with distinction, and prosecutes one lover for a rape, while she so­licits the lead embraces of another.

Your cheek turns pale; for a guilty conscience tells you, you are undone.—Come forward, thou virtuous minister, and tell the would by what interest Mr. Hine has been recom­mended to so extraordinary a mark of his Majesty's favour; what was the price of the patent be has bought, and to what honorable purpose the purchase-money has been applied. No­thing less than many thousands could pay Colonel Burgoyne's expences at Preston. Do you care to prosecute such a crea­ture as Vaughan, while you are basely setting up the Royal Patronage to auction? Do you dare to complain of an attack upon your own honour, while you are selling the favours of the Crown, to raise a fund for corrupting the morals of the people? And, do you think it is possible such enormities should escape without impeachment? It is induced highly your interest to maintain the present House of Commons. Having sold the nation to you in gross, they will undoubtedly pro­tect you in the detail; for while they patronize your crises, they feel for their own.

LETTER XXXIV. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

I FIND with some surprise, that you are not supported as you deserve. Your most determined advocates hare scru­ples about them, which you are unacquainted with; and though there be nothing too hazardous for your Grace to en­gage in, there are some things too infamous for the vilest pro­stitute of a newspaper to defend ^*. In what other manner [Page 124]shall we account for the profound, submissive silence, which you and your friends have observed upon a charge, which called immediately for the cleared refutation, and would have justified the severest measures of resentment? I did not attempt to blast year character by an indirect ambiguous insinuation; but candidly stated to you a plain fact, which struck directly at the integrity of a privy-counsellor, of a first commissioner of the treasury, and of a heading minister, who is supposed to enjoy the first [...]are in his Majesty's confidence ^*. [...] one of these capacities, I employed the most moderate terms to charge you with treachery to your Sovereign, and breach of trust in your office. I accused you of having sold a p [...]tr [...]t place in the collection of the customs at Easter, to one Mr. Hine, who, unable or unwilling to deposite the where purchase-money himself, raised part of it by contribution, and has now a certain Doctor Brooke quartered upon the salary for one hundred pounds a year.—No sale by the candle was ever conducted with greater formality.—I affirm, that the price at which the place was knocked down (and which, I have good reason to think, was not less than three thousand have hundred pounds was, with your [...] and consent, paid to Colonel [...]goyne, to reward him, I presume, for the decency of his deportment at Preston; or to reimburse him, perhaps, for the fine of one thousand pounds, which, for that very deportment, the court of King's [...] thought proper to set upon him.—It is not often that the chief justice and the prime minister are so strangely at variance in their opinions of men and things.

I thank God, there is not in human nature a degree of impudence daring enough to deny the charge I have fixed upon you. Your courteous secretary ^†, your consi [...]enti [...] architect ^‡, are silent as the grave. Even Mr. Rigby's coun­tenance fails him. He violates his second nature, and blushes whenever be speaks of you. Perhaps the noble Colonel himself will relieve you. No man is more tender of his reputation. He is not only nice, but perfectly sore in every thing that touches his honour. If any man, for example, were to accuse him of taking his stand at a gaming-table, and watching, with the so­be [...]st [Page 125]attention, for a fair opportunity of engaging a drunken young nobleman at piquet, he would undoubtedly consider it as an infamous aspersion upon his character, and resent it [...] a man of honour.—A [...]qui [...]ting him therefore of drawing a regular and splendid subsistence from any unworthy prac­tices either in his own house or elsewhere, let me ask your Grace, for what military merits you have been pleased to reward him with military governmental? He had a regiment of dragoons, which [...] would imagine was at least an equi­valent for any service, he ever performed. Besides, he is but a young officer considering his preferment, and, except in his activity at Preston, not very conspicuous in his profession. But in seems the sale of a civil employment was not suffici­ent; and military governments, which were intended for the support of worn-out veterans, must be thrown into the scale, to desary the extensive bribery of a contested election. Are these the steps you take to secure to your Sovereign the at­tachment of his army? With what countenance dare you ap­pear in the royal presence, branded as you are with the in­famy of a notorious breach of trust? With what countenance can you take your seat at the treasury-beard or in council, when you feel that every circulating whisper is at your [...] ­pence alone, and stabs you to the heart? Have you a single friend in Parliament so shameless, to thoroughly abandoned, as to undertake your defence? You know, my Lord, that there is not a man in either house, whose character, however [...] as, would not be ruined by mixing his reputation with yours: and does not year heart inform you, that you are degraded below the condition of a man, when you are oblig­ed to bear these insults with submission, and even to thank me for my moderation?

We are told by the highest judicial authority, that Mr. Vaughan's offer to purchase the reversion of a patent place in Jamaican [...] he was otherwise sufficiently entitled to) amounted to a high misdemeanour. He it so; and if he de­serves it, l [...]t him [...]. But the learned judge might have had a [...] of [...] the powers of his eloquence. [...] himself with so much energy upon the criminal [...] and dangerous consequences of any attempt to cor [...] man in your Grace's station; what would be have [...] the minister himself, to that very pri­vy-counsellor, to [...] first commissioner of the treasury, who [Page 126]does not wait for, but impatiently solicits the touch of cor­ruption; who employs the meanest of his creatures in these honourable services, and, forgetting the genius and fidelity of his secretary, descends to apply to his house-builder for assistance?

This affair, my Lord, will do infinite credit to govern­ment, if, to clear your character, you should think proper to bring it into the house of Lords, or into the court of King's Bench.—But, my Lord, you date not do either. ⁵³

LETTER XXXV. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

When the complaints of a brave and powerful people are ob­served to increase in proportion to the wrongs they have suffered; when, instead of sinking into submission, they are roused to resistance; the time will soon arrive at which every inferior consideration most yield to the security of the Sovereign, and to the general safety of the state. There is a moment of difficulty and danger, at which flattery and falsehood can no longer deceive, and simplicity itself can no longer be misled. Let us suppose it arrived. Let us suppose a gracious, well-intentioned prince, made sen­sible at last of the great duty he owes to his people, and of his own disgraceful situation; that he looks round him for assistance, and asks for no advice but how to gratify the wishes and secure the happiness of his subjects. In these circumstances, it may he matter of curious SPECULATI­ON to consider, if an honest man were permitted to ap­proach a King, in what terms he would address himself to his Sovereign. Let it be imagined, no matter how im­probable, that the first prejudice against his character is re­moved, that the ceremonious difficulties of an audience are surmounted, that he feels himself animated by the purest and most honourable affection to his King and country, and that the great person whom he addresses has spirit enough to bid him speak freely, and understanding enough to listen to him with attention. Unacquainted with the vain impertinence of forms, he would deliver his sentiments with dignity and firmness, but not without respect.

LETTER XXXVI. TO HIS CRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

IF I were personally your enemy, I might pity and forgive you. You have every claim to compassion, that can arise from misery and distress. The condition you are reduced to, would disarm a private enemy of his resentment, and leave no consolation to the most vindictive spirit, but that such an object as you are would disgrace the dignity of revenge. But in the relation you have horne to this country, you have no title to indulgence; and if I had followed the dictates of my own opinion, I never should have allowed you the respite of a momeat. In your public character, you have injured eve­ry subject of the empire; and though an individual is not authorised to forgive the injuries done to society, he is call­ed upon to assert his separate share in the public resentment. I submitted however to the judgment of men, more mode­rate, perhaps more candid, than myself. For my own part, I do not pretend to understand those prudent forms of deco­rum, those gentle rules of discretion, which some men en­deavour to unite with the conduct of the greatest and most hazardous affal [...] Engaged in the defence of an honourable cause, I would take a decisive part.—I should scorn to pro­vide for a future retreat, or to keep terms with a man who preserves no measures with the public. Neither the abject submission of deserting his post in the hour of danger, nor even the ^* sacred shield of cowardice, should protect him. I would pursue him through life, and try the last exertion of my abilities to preserve the perishable infamy of his name, and make it immortal.

What then, my Lord? Is this the event of all the sacrifi­ces you have made to Lord Bute's patronage, and to your [Page 141]own unfortunate ambition? Was it for this you abandoned your earliest friendships,—the warmest connections of your youth, and all those honourable eng [...]gen [...]nts, by which you once solicited, and might have acquired, the esteem of your country? Have you secured no recompence for such a waste of honour?—Unhappy man! what party will receive the common deserter of all parties? Without a client to flatter, without a friend to console you, and with only one compa­nion from the honest house of Blooms [...]ury, you must now recite into a dreadful solitude. At the roost active period of life, you must quit the busy scene, and conceal yourself from the world, if you would hope to save the wretched re­mains of a ruined reputation. The vices operate like age, bring on discase before its time, and in the prime of youth leave the character broken and exhausted.

Yet your conduct has been mysterious, as well as contempt­ible. Where is now that firmness, or obstinacy, so long boasted of by your friends, and acknowledged by your ene­mies? We are taught to expect, that you would not leave the ruin of this country to be completed by other hands, but were determined either to gain a decisive victory over the constitution, or to perish bravely at least behind the last dike of the prerogative. You knew the danger, and might have been provided for it. You took sufficient time to prepare for a meeting with your Parliament, to confirm the mercena­ry sidelity of your dependants, and to suggest to your Sove­reign a language suited to his dignity at least, if not to his benevolence and wisdom. Yet, while the whole kingdom was agitated with anxious expectation upon one great point, you meanly evaded the question, and, instead of the explicit firmness and decision of a King, gave us nothing but the mi­sery of a ruined ^* grazier, and the whining piety of a Metho­dist. We had reason to expect, that notice would have been taken of the petitions which the King had received from the English nation; and although I can conceive some personal motives for not yielding to them, I can find n [...], in com­mon prudence or decency, for treating them with contempt. Be assured, my Lord, the English people will not tamely submit to this unworthy treatment:—they had a right to be heard; and their petitions, if not granted, deserved to [...] [Page 142]considered. Whatever be the real views and doctrine of a court, the Sovereign should be taught to preserve some forms of at­tention to his subjects; and, if he will not redress their grievances, not to make them a [...] of jest and mockery among lords and ladies of the bed chamber. Injuries may be atoned for, and forgiven; but insults admit of no o [...]a­pensation. They degrade the mind in its own esteem, and force it to recover its level by revenge. This neglect of the petitions was however a part of your original plan of go­vernment; not will any consequences it has pro [...]uced accoust for your deserving your [...], in the midst of that dis­tress in which you and your ^* new friends had involved him. One would think, my Lord, you might have taken this spi­rited resolution before you [...] the [...] those ear­ly connections, which once, even in your own opinion, did honour to your youth;—before you had obliged Lord Gran­by to quit a service he was attached to;—before you had dis­carded one cl [...]ncell [...]r, and killed another. To what an ab­ject condition have you laboured to reduce the best of princes, when the unhappy man, who yields at last to such persenal instance and solicitation as never can be fairly employed a­gainst a subject, feels himself degraded by his compliance, and is unable to survive the disgraceful honours which his gracious Sovereign had compelled him to accept? He was a man of spirit, for he had a quick sense of shame, and death has redeemed his character. I know your Grace too well to appeal to your feelings upon this event; but there is another heart, not yet. I hope, quite callous to the touch of huma­nity, to which it ought to be a dreadful lesson for ever ^†.

Now, my Lord, let us consider the situation to which you have conducted, and in which you have thought it adviseable to abandon, your royal Master. Whenever the people have complained, and nothing better could be said in defence of the measures of government, it has been the fashion to answer us, though not very fairly, with an appeal to the private virtues of your Sovereign. ‘Has he not, to relieve the peo­ple, “surrendered a considerable part of his reven [...]e?—Has he not made the judges independent, by fixing them in [Page 143] ”their places for life?’—My Lord, we acknowledge the gracious principle which gave birth to these concessions, and have nothing to regret but that it has never been a [...]shered to. At the end of seven years, we are [...] with a debt of above five hundred thousand pounds upon the civil list; and we now see the Chan [...]llor of Great Britain tyrannically forced out of his office, not for want of abilities, not for want of integrity, or of attention to his duty, but for deli­vering his honest opinion in Parliament, upon the greatest conssitutional question that has arisen since the revolution. We care not to whose private virtues you appeal:—the theo­ry of such a government is falsehood and mockery: the practice is oppression. You have laboured then though I confess to no purpose) to [...] your mader of the only plau­si [...]e answer that ever was given in defence of his gavern­ment, —of the opinion which the people had conceived of his personal honour and integrity.—The Duke of Bedford was more moderate than your Grace. He only forced his master to violate a solemn pramise made to an individual ^*. But you, my Lord, have successfully [...] your advice to every positical, every moral engagement, that could bind ei­ther the magistrate or the man. The condition of a King is often [...], but it required your Grace's abilities to make it contemptable.—You will say perhaps, that the faith­ful servants, in whose hands you have left him, are able to retric [...]e his honour and to support his government. You have publicly declared, even since your resignation, that you ap­proved of their measures, and admired their conduct, parti­cularly that of the [...] of Sandwich. What a pity it is, that, with all this appearance, you should think it necessary to separate yourself [...] such amiable companions! You for­get, my Lord, that while you are [...] in the praise of men whom you desert, you are publicly opposing your conduct to your opinions, and depriving yourself of the only plausi­ble pretence you had for leaving your Sovereign over­whelmed with distress: I call it plansible; for, in truth, there is no reason whatsoever, less than the frowns of your Mather, that could justify a man of spirit for abandoning his post at a moment so critical and important. It is in vain to evade the question. If you will not speak out, the public have a right to judge from appearances. We are authorised [Page 144]to conclude, that you either differed from your colleagues, whose measures you still affect to defend, or that you thought the administration of the King's affairs no longer tenan [...]e. You art at liberty to choose between the hypocrite and the coward. Your best friends are in doubt which way they shall incline. Your country unites the characters, and gives you credit for them both. For my own part. I see no­thing inconsistent in your conduct. You begin with betray­ing the people,—you conclude with betraying the King.

In your treatment of particular persons, you have preserv­ed the uniformity of your character. Even Mr. Bradshaw declares, that [...] man was ever so ill used as himself. As to the provision you have made for his family ^*, he was entitled to it by the house he lives in. The successor of one Chan­cellor might well pretend to be the rival of another. It is the breach of private friendship that touches Mr. Bradshaw; and to say the truth, when a man of his rank and abilities had taken so active a part in your affairs, he ought not to have been let down at last with a miscrable pension of fifteen hundred pounds a year, Colonel Luttrell, Mr. Onslow, and Governor Burgoyne, were equally engaged with you, and have rather more reason to complain than Mr. Bradihaw. These are men, my Lord, whose friendship you should ha [...] adhered to on the same principle on which you deserted Lord Rockingham, Lord Chatham, Lord Camden, and the Duke of Portland. We can easily account for your violating your engagements with men of honour: but why should you be­tray your natural connections? Why separate yourself from Lord Sandwich, Lord Gower, and Mr. Rigby, or leave the three worthy gentlemen above-mentioned to saift for them­selves? [Page 145]With all the fashionable indulgence of the times, this country does not abound in characters like theirs; and you may find it a very difficult matter to recruit the black cata­logue of your friends.

The recollection of the royal patent you sold to Mr. Hine, obliges me to say a word in defence of a man whom you have taken the most dishonourable means to injure. I do not refer to the sham prosecution which you carried on against him. On that ground, I doubt not, he is prepared to meet you with tenfold recrimination, and set you at defiance. The injury you had done him, affects his moral character. You knew that the offer to purchase the reversion of a place, which has heretofore been sold under a decree of the court of Chancery, however imprudent in his situation, would no way tend to cover him with that sort of guilt which you wish­ed to fix upon him in the eyes of the world. You laboured then, by every species of false suggestion, and even by pub­lishing counterfeit letters, to have it understood that be had proposed terms of accommodation to you, and had offered to a [...]d [...]n his principles, his party, and his friends. You consulted your own breast for a character of consummate trea­chery, and gave it to the public for that of Mr. Vaughan. I think myself obliged to do this justice to an injured man, because I was deceived by the appearances thrown out by your Grace, and have frequently spoken of his conduct with in lignation. If he really be, what I think him, honest, though mistaken, he will be happy in recovering his reputa­tion, though at the expence of his understanding. Here, I see the matter is likely to rest. Your Grace is afraid to carry on the prosecution. Mr. Hine keeps quiet possession of his purchase [...] and Governor Burgoyne, relieved from the apprehension of refunding the money, sits down for the re­mainder of his life, [...]FAMOUS AND CONTENTED.

I believe, my Lord, I may now take my leave of you for ever. You are no longer that resolute minister who had spi­rit to support the most violent measures; who compensated for the want of good and great qualities, by a brave deter­mination (which some people ad [...]ired and relied on) to main­tain himself without them. The reputation of obstinacy and perseverance might have supplied the place of all the ab­sent virtues. You have now added the last negative to your character, and meanly confessed that you are destitute of the [Page 146]common spirit of a man. Retire then, my Lord, and hide your blushes from the world; for, with such a load of shame, even BLACK may change its colour. A mind such as yours, in the solitary hours of domestic enjoyment, may still find topics of consolation. You may find it in the memory of vi­olated friendship; in the afflictions of an accomplished prince, whom you have disgraced and deserted; and, in the agita­tions of a great country, driven, by your counsels, to the brink of destruction.

The palm of ministerial firmness is now transferred to Lord North. He tells us so himself, with the plenitude of the o [...]e rotunds ^*; and I am ready enough to believe, that, while he can keep his place, he will not easily be persuaded to resign it. Your Grace was the firm minister of yesterday; Lord North is the firm minister of to-day. To-morrow, perhaps, his Majesty, in his wisdom, may give us a rival for you both. You are too well acquainted with the tem­per of your late allies, to think it possible that Lord North should be permitted to govern this country. If we may be­lieve common fame, they have shown him their superiority already. His Majesty is indeed too gracious to insult his sub­jects, by choosing his first minister from among the domestics of the Duke of Bedford. That would have been too gross an outrage to the three kingdoms. Their purpose, however, is equally answered by pushing forward this unhappy figure, and forcing it to bear the odium of measures which they in reality direct. Without immediately appearing to govern, they possess the power and distribute the emoluments of go­vernment as they think proper. They still adhere to the spi­rit of that calculation which made Mr. Luttrell representa­tive of Middlesex. Far from regretting your retreat, they assure us very gravely, that it increases the real strength of the ministry. According to this way of reasoning, they will probably grow stronger, and more flourishing, every hour [...] for I think there is hardly a day passes in which some one or other of his Majesty's servants does not leave them to improve by the loss of his assistance. But, alas! their countenances speak a different language. When the members drop off, the main body cannot be insensible of its ap­proaching [Page 147]dissolution. Even the violence of their proceedings is a signal of despair. Like broken tenants, who have had warning to quit the premises, they curse their landlord, destroy the fixtures, throw every thing into confusion, and care not what mischief they do the estate.

LETTER XXXVII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I BELIEVE there is no man, however indifferent about the interests of this country, who will not readily confess that the situation to which we are now reduced, whether it has arisen from the violence of faction, or from an arbitrary system of government, justifies the most melancholy appre­hensions, and calls for the exertion of whatever wisdom or vigour is left among us. The King's answer to the remon­strance of the city of London, and the measures since adopted by the ministry, amount to a plain declaration, that the prin­ciple, on which Mr. Luttrell was seated in the House of Commons, is to be supported in all its consequences, and carried to its utmost extent. The same spirit, which violated the freedom of election, now invades the declaration and bills of rights, and threatens to punish the subject for exercising a privilege, hitherto undisputed, of petitioning the crown. The grievances of the people are aggravated by insults; their complaints not merely disregarded, but checked by autho­rity; and every one of those acts, against which they remon­strated, confirmed by the King's decisive approbation. At such a moment, no honest man will remain silent or inactive. However distinguished by rank or property, in the rights of freedom we are equal. As we are Englishmen, the least considerable man among us has an interest equal to the proud­est nobleman, in the laws and constitution of this country, and is equally called upon to make a generous contribution in support of them;—whether it be the heart to conceive, the understanding to direct, or the hand to execute. It is a common cause, in which we are all interested, in which we should all be engaged. The man who deserts it at this [Page 148]alarming crisis, is an enemy to his country, and, what I think of infinitely less importance a traitor to his Sovereign. The subject, who is truly loyal to the chief magistrate, will neither advise nor submit to arbitrary measures. The city of London hath given an example, which, I doubt not, will be followed by the whole kingdom. The noble spirit of the metropolis is the life-blood of the state, collected at the heart: from that point it circulates, with health and vigour, through every artery of the constitution. The time is come, when the body of the English people must assert their own cause: conscious of their strength, and animated by a sense of their duty, they will not surrender their birth-right to ministers, Parliaments, or Kings.

The city of London have expressed their sentiments with freedom and firmness; they have spoken truth boldly, and, in whatever light their remonstrance may be represented by frontiers, I defy the most subtle lawyer in this country to point out a single instance in which they have exceeded the truth. Even that assertion, which we are told is most offen­sive to Parliament, in the theory of the English constitution, is strictly true. If any part of the representative body be not chosen by the people, that part vitiates and corrupts the whole. If there be a defect in the representation of the peo­ple, [...] power, which alone is equal to the making of the laws in this country, is not complete, and the acts of Parli­ament [...] that circumstance [...] the acts of a pure and entire legislature. I speak of the theory of our constitution; and whatever difficulties or [...] may attend the practice, I am ready to maintain, that as far as the fact de­viates from the principle, so far the practice is vicious and corrupt. I have not heard a question raised upon any other part of the remonstrance. That the principle on which the Middlesex election was determined, is more pernicious in its effects than either the levying of ship-money by Charles I. or the suspending power assumed by his son, will hardly be disputed by any man who understands or wishes well to the English constitution. It is not an act of open violence done by the King, or any direct or palpable breach of the laws at­tempted by his minister, that can ever endanger the liberties of this country. Against such a King or minister the peo­ple would immediately take the alarm, and all parties unite to oppose him. The laws may be grossly violated in parti­cular [Page 149]instances, without any direct attack upon the whole system. Facts of that kind stand alone; they are attributed to necessity, not defended by principle. We can never be really in danger, until the forms of Parliament are made use of to destroy the substance of our civil and political liber­ties; —until Parliament itself betrays its trust, by contri­buting to establish new principles of government, and em­ploying the very weapons committed to it by the collective body, to stab the constitution.

As for the terms of the remonstrance. I presume it will not be affirmed, by any person less polished than a gentle­man-usher, that this is a season for compliments. Our gra­cious King indeed is abundantly civil to himself. Instead of an answer to a petition, his Majesty very graciously pro­nounces his own panegyric; and I confess, that, as far as his personal behaviour, or the royal purity of his intentions, is concerned, the truth of those declarations, which the minister has drawn up for his master, cannot decently be disputed. In every other respect, I affirm, that they are absolutely un­supported either in argument or fact. I must add too, that supposing the speech were otherwise unexceptionable, it is not a direct answer to the petition of the city. His Majesty is pleased to say, that he is always ready to receive the re­quests of his subjects: yet the sheriffs were twice sent back with an excuse, and it was certainly debated in council, whether or no the magistrates of the city of London should be admitted to an audience. Whether the remonstrance be or be not injurious to Parliament, is the very question be­tween the Parliament and the people; and such a question as cannot be decided by the assertion of a third party, however respectable. That the petitioning for a dissolution of Parlia­ment is irreconcil [...]able with the principles of the constitution, is a now doctrine. His Majesty perhaps has not been in­formed, that the House of Commons themselves have, by a formal resolution, admitted it to be the right of the subject. His Majesty proceeds to assure us, that he has made the laws the rule of his conduct.—Was it in ordering or per­mitting his ministers to apprehend Mr. Wilkes by a gene­ral warrant? Was it in suffering his ministers to revive the obsolete maxim of nullum tempus to rob the Duke of Portland of his property, and thereby give a decisive turn to a county election?—Was it in erecting a chamber consultation of sur­geons, [Page 150]with authority to examine into and supercede the le­gal verdict of a jury? Or did his Majesty consult the laws of this country, when he permitted his secretary of state to declare, that, whenever the civil magistrate is trifled with, a military force must be sent for, without the delay of a [...], and effectually employed? Or was it in the barbarous exact­ness with which this illegal, inhuman doctrine was carried into execution? If his Majesty had recollected these [...] think be would never have said, at least with any reference to the measures of his government, that he had made the laws the rule of his conduct. To talk of preserving the affections, or relying on the support, of his subjects, while he continues to act upon these principles, is indeed paying a compliment to their loyalty, which I hope they have too much spirit and understanding to deserve.

His Majesty, we are told, is not only punctual in the per­formance of his own duty, but careful not to assume any of those powers which the constitution has placed in other hands. Admitting this last assertion to be strictly true, it is no way to the purpose. The city of London have not desired the King to assume a power placed in other hands. If they had, I should hope to see the person, who dated to present such a petition, immediately impeached. They solicit their Sove­reign to exert that constitutional authority, which the laws have vested in him, for the benefit of his subjects. They call upon him to make use of his lawful prerogative in a case, which our laws evidently supposed might happen, since they have provided for it by trusting the Sovereign with a discre­tionary power to dissolve the Parliament. This request will, I am confident, be supported by remonstrances from all parts of the kingdom. His Majesty will find at last, that this is the sense of his people; and that it is not his interest to sup­port either ministry or Parliament, at the hazard of a breach with the collective body of his subjects.—That he is the King of a free people, is indeed his greatest glory. That he may long continue the King of a free people, is the second wish that animates my heart. The first is, THAT THE PEOPLE MAY BE FREE ^*.

LETTER XXXVIII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

IN my last letter, I offered you my opinion of the truth and propriety of his Majesty's answer to the city of Lon­don, considering it merely as the speech of a minister, drawn up in his own defence, and delivered, as usual, by the chief magistrate. I would separate, as much as possible, the King's personal character and behaviour from the acts of the present government. I wish it to be understood that his Majesty had in effect no more concern in the substance of what he said, than Sir James Hodges had in the remonstrance; and that as Sir James, in virtue of his office, was obliged to speak the sentiments of the people, his Majesty might think himself bound, by the same official obligation, to give a graceful ut­terance to the sentiments of his minister. The cold formality of a well-repeated lesson, is widely distant from the animated expression of the heart.

This distinction, however, is only true with respect to the measure itself. The consequences of it reach beyond the minister, and materially affect his Majesty's honour. In their own nature they are formidable enough to alarm a man of prudence, and disgraceful enough to afflict a man of spirit. A subject, whose sincere attachment to his Majesty's person and family is founded upon rational principles, will not, in the present conjuncture, be scrupulous of alarming, or even afflicting, his Sovereign. I know there is another sort of loyalty, of which his majesty has had plentiful experience. When the loyalty of Tories, Jacobites, and Scotchmen, has once taken possession of an unhappy Prince, it seldom leaves him without accomplishing his destruction. When the poi­son of their doctrines have tainted the natural benevolence of his disposition, when their insidious counsels have corrupted the stamina of his government, what antidote can restore him to his political health and honour, but the firm sincerity of his English subjects?

It has not been usual in this country, at least since the days of Charles I. to see the Sovereign personally at variance, or [Page 152]engaged in a direct altercation with his subjects. Acts of grave and indulgence are wisely appropriated to him, and should constantly be performed by himself. He never should appear but in an amiable light to his subjects. Even in France, as long as any ideas of a limited monarchy were thought worth preserving, it was a maxim, that no man should leave the royal presence discontented. They have lost or renounced the moderate principles of their government; and now when their Parliaments venture to remonstrate, the tyrant comes forward, and answers absolutely for himself. The spirit of their present constitution requires that the King should be feared: and the principle, I believe, is tolerably supported by the fact. But, in our political system, the the­ory is at variance with the practice; for the King should be beloved; measures of greater severity may, indeed, in some circumstances, be necessary; but the minister who advises, should take the execution and odium of them entirely upon himself. He not only betrays his master, but violates the spirit of the English constitution, when he exposes the chief magistrate to the personal hatred or contempt of his subjects. When we speak of the firmness of government, we mean an uniform system of measures, deliberately adopted, and reso­lutely maintained by the servants of the crown; not a peev­ish asperity in the language or behaviour of the Sovereign. The government of a weak irresolute monarch may be wise, moderate, and firm; that of an obstinate capricious prince, on the contrary, may be feeble, undetermined, and relaxed. The reputation of public measures depends upon the minis­ter, who is responsible; not upon the King, whose private opinions are not supposed to have any weight against the advice of his council, and whose personal authority should therefore never be interposed in public affairs.—This I be­lieve is true constitutional doctrine. But for a moment let us suppose it false. Let it be taken for granted, that an occa­sion may arise in which a King of England shall be compel­led to take upon himself the ungrateful office of rejecting the petitions and censuring the conduct of his subjects; and let the city-remonstrance be supposed to have created so extraor­dinary an occasion. On this principle, which I presume no friend of administration will dispute, let the wisdom and spi­rit of the ministry be examined. They advise the King to hazard his dignity, by a positive declaration of his own sen­timents. [Page 153]—They suggest to him a language full of severity and reproach. What follows? When his Majesty had taken so decisive a part in support of his ministry and Parliament, he had a right to expect from them a reciprocal demonstra­tion of firmness in their own cause, and of their zeal for his honour. He had reason to expect (and such, I doubt not, were the blustering promises of Lord North), that the per­sons, whom he had been advised to charge with having fail­ed in their respect to him, with having injured Parliament and violated the principles of the constitution, should not have been permitted to escape without some severe marks of the displeasure and rengeance of Parliament. As the matter stands, the minister, after placing his Sovereign in the most unfavourable light to his subjects, and after attempting to fix the ridicule and odium of his own precipitate measures upon the royal character, leaves him a solitary figure upon the scene, to recall, if he can, or to compensate, by future compliances, for one unhappy demonstration of ill-support­ed firmness and ineffectual resentment. As a man of spirit, his Majesty cannot but be sensible, that the lofty terms in which he was persuaded to reprimand the city, when united with the silly conclusion of the business, resemble the pomp of a mock tragedy, where the most pathetic sentiments, and even the sufferings of the hero, are calculated for derision.

Such has been the boasted firmness and consistency of a mi­nister ^*, whose appearance in the House of Commons was thought essential to the King's service:—whose presence was to influence every division;—who had a voice to persuade, an eye to penetrate, a gesture to command. The reputation of these great qualities has been fatal to his friends. The little dignity of Mr. Ellis has been committed. The mine was sunk; combustibles were provided; and Welbore Ellis, the Guy Faux of the sable, waited only for the signal of com­mand. All of a sudden the country gentlemen discover how grossly they have been deceived:—the minister's heart fails him; the grand plot is defeated in a moment; and poor Mr. Ellis and his motion taken into custody. From the event of Friday last, one would imagine that some fatality hung over [Page 154]this gentleman. Whether he makes or suppresses a motion, he is equally sure of his disgrace. But the complexion of the times will suffer no man to be vice-treasurer of ireland with impunity ^*.

I do not mean to express the smallest anxiety for the mi­nister's reputation. He acts separately for himself; and the most shameful inconsistency may perhaps be no disgrace to him. But when the Sovereign, who represents the majesty of the state, appears in person, his dignity should be sup­ported. The occasion should be important;—the plan well considered;—the execution steady and consistent. My zeal for his Majesty's real honour compels me to assert, that it has been too much the system of the present reign, to intro­duce him personally, either to act for, or to defend his servants. They persuade him to do what is properly their business, and desert him in the midst of it ^†. Yet this is an inconvenience to which he must be for ever exposed, while he adheres to a ministry divided among themselves, or unequal in credit and ability to the great task they have undertaken. Instead of reserving the interposition of the royal personage as the last resource of government, their weakness obliges them to apply it to every ordinary oecasion, and to render it cheap and common in the opinion of the people. Instead of supporting their master, they look to him for support; and, for the emo­luments of remaining one day more in office, care not how much his sacred character is prostituted and dishonoured.

If I thought it possible for this paper to reach the closet, I would venture to appeal at once to his Majesty's judgment. I would ask him, but in the most respectful terms, ‘As you “are a young man, Sir, who ought to have a life of happi­ness in prospect;—as you are a husband;—as you are a fa­ther, [your filial duties, I own, have been religiously per­formed;] is it bona fide for your interest or your honour, to sacrifice your domestic tranquillity, and to live in a per­petual disagreement with your people, merely to preserve such a chain of beings as North, Barrington, Weymouth, Gower, Ellis, Onstow, Rigby, Jerry Dyson, and Sand­wich? Their very names are a satire upon all government; and I desy the gravest of your chaplains to read the cata­logue ”without laughing.’

For my own part, Sir, I have always considered addresses from Parliament, as a fashionable, unmeaning formality. Usurpers, ideots, and tyrants, have been successively compli­mented with almost the same professions of duty and affection. But let us suppose them to mean exactly what they profess. The consequences deserve to be considered. Either the So­vereign is a man of high spirit and dangerous ambition, ready to take advantage of the treachery of his Parliament, ready to accept of the surrender they make him of the public liber­ty; —or he is a mild, undesigning prince, who, provided they indulge him with a little state and pageantry, would of him­self intend no mischief. On the first supposition, it must soon be decided by the sword, whether the constitution should be lost or preserved. On the second, a prince no way qualified for the execution of a great and hazardous enterprize, and without any determined object in view, may nevertheless be driven into such desperate measures, as may lead directly to his ruin, or disgrace himself by a shameful fluctuation between the extremes of violence at one moment, and timidity at an­other. The minister, perhaps, may have reason to be satisfied with the success of the present hour, and with the profits of his employment. He is the tenant of the day, and has no in­terest in the inheritance. The Sovereign himself is bound by other obligations; and ought to look forward to a supe­rior, a permanent interest. His paternal tenderness should remind him, how many hostages he has given to society. The ties of nature come powerfully in aid of oaths and pro­testations. The father, who considers his own precarious [Page 156]state of health, and the possible hazard of a long minority, will wish to see the family-estate free and unincumbered ^*. What is the dignity of the crown, though it were really main­tained; —what is the honour of Parliament, supposing it could exist without any foundation of integrity and justice;—or what is the vain reputation of firmness, even if the scheme of the government were uniform and consistent, compared with the heart-felt affections of the people, with the happiness and security of the royal family, or even with the grateful accli­mations of the populace? Whatever style of contempt may be adopted by ministers or Parliaments, no man sincerely despises the voice of the English nation. The House of Commons are only interpreters, whose duty it is to convey the sense of the people faithfully to the crown. If the interpretation be false or imperfect, the constituent powers are called upon to deliver their own sentiments. Their speech is rude, but in­telligible; —their gestures fierce, but full of explanation. Perplexed by sophistries, their honest eloquence rises into action. Their first appeal was to the integrity of their re­presentatives; —the second, to the King's justice;—the last argument of the people, whenever they have recourse to it, will carry more perhaps than persuasion to Parliament, or supplication to the Throne.

LETTER XXXIX. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

WHILE Parliament was sitting, it would neither have been safe, nor perhaps quite regular to offer any opi­nion to the public, upon the justice or wisdom of their pro­ceedings. To pronounce fairly upon their conduct, it was necessary to wait until we could consider, in one view, the beginning, progress, and conclusion of their deliberations. The cause of the public was undertaken and supported by men, whose abilities and united authority, to say nothing of the [Page 157]advantageous ground they stood on, might well be thought sufficient to determine a popular question in favour of the people. Neither was the House of Commons so absolately engaged in defence of the ministry, or even of their own re­solutions, but that they might [...] paid some decent regard to the known disposition of their constituents; and, without any dishonour to their firmness, might have retracted an opi­nion too hastily adopted, when they saw the alarm it had created, and how strongly it was opposed by the general sense of the nation. The ministry too would have consulted their own immediate interest, in making some concession satisfac­tory to the moderate part of the people. Without touching the fact, they might have consented to guard against or give up the dangerous principle on which it was established. In this state of things, I think it was highly improbable at the beginning of the session, that the complaints of the people upon a matter which, in their apprehension at least, immedi­ately affected the life of the constitution, would be treated with as much contempt by their own representatives, and by the House of Lords, as they had been by the other branch of the legislature. Despairing of their integrity, we had a right to expect something from their prudence, and some­thing from their fears. The Duke of Grafton certainly did not foresee to what an extent the corruption of [...] Parliament might be carried. He thought, perhaps, that [...] was still some portion of shame or virtue left in the [...] of the House of Commons, or that there was a line in public pros­titution beyond which they would scruple to proceed. Had the young man been a little more practised in the world, or had he ventured to measure the characters of [...] men by his own, be would not have been so easily discouraged.

The prorogation of Parliament naturally calls upon us to review their proceedings, and to consider the condition in which they have left the kingdom. I do not question but they have done what is usually called the King's business, much to his Majesty's satisfaction. We have [...] to lament, that, in consequence of a system introduced or [...] in the present reign, this kind of merit should be very consistent with the neglect of every duty they owe to the nation. The interval between the opening of the last, and close of the former session, was longer than usual. Whoever were the views of the minister in deferring the meeting of Parliament, [Page 158]sufficient time was certainly given to every member of the House of Commons, to look back upon the steps he had tak­en, and the consequences they had produced. The zeal of party, the violence of personal animosities, and the heat of convention, had leisure to subside. From that period, what­ever resolution they took was deliberate and prepense. In the preceding session, the dependants of the ministry had affected to believe, that the final determination of the questi­on would have satisfied the nation, or at least put a stop to their complaints; as if the certainty of an evil could dimi­nish the sense of it, or the nature of injustice be altered by de­cision. But they found the people of England were in a temper very distant from submission; and, although it was contended that the House of Commons could not themselves reverse a resolution, which had the force and effect of a ju­dicial sentence, there were other constitutional expedients, which would have given a security against any similar at­tempts for the future. The general proposition, in which the whole country had an interest, might have been reduced to a particular fact, in which Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Luttrell would alone have been concerned. The House of Lords might interpose;—the King might dissolve the Parliament; or, if every other resource failed, there still lay a grand con­stitutional writ of error, in behalf of the people, from the decision of one court to the wisdom of the whole legislature. Every one of these remedies has been successively attempted. The people performed their part with dignity, spirit, and perseverence. For many months his Majesty board nothing from his people but the language of complaint and resent­ment; —unhappily for this country, it was the daily tri­umph of his courtiers that he heard it with an indifference approaching to contempt.

The House of Commons having assumed a power unknown to the constitution, were determined not merely to support it in the single instance in question, but to maintain the doc­trine in its utmost extent, and to establish the fact as a pre­cedent in law, to be applied in whatever manner his Majesty's servants should hereafter think fit. Their proceedings upon this occasion are a strong proof that a decision, in the first instance illegal and unjust, can only be supported by a con­tinuation of falsehood and injustice. To support their form­er resolutions, they were obliged to violate some of the best [Page 159]known [...] of the house. In one instance, they went so far as to declare, in open defiance of truth and common sense, that it was not the rule of the house to di­vide a complicated question, at the request of a member ^*. But after trampling upon the laws of the land, it was not wonderful that they should treat the private regulations of their own assembly with equal disregard. The speaker, being young in office, began with pretended ignorance, and ended with deciding for the ministry. We are not surprised at the decision; but he hesitated and blushed at his own beseness, and every man was astonished ^†.

The interest of the public was vigorously supported in the House of Lords. Their right to defend the constitution against an encroachment of the other estates, and the necessity of ex­erting it at this period, was urged to them with every argu­ment that could be supposed to influence the heart or the un­derstanding. But it soon appeared, that they had already taken their part, and were determined to supp [...] the House of Commons, not only at the expence of [...] and dece [...]y, but even by the surrender of their own most i [...] rights. Instead of performing that duty which the constitution ex­pected from them, in return for the dignity and independence of their station, in return for the hereditary share it has given them in the legislature, the majority of them made common cause with the other house in oppressing the people, and esta­blishing another doctrine as false in itself, and if possible more pernicious to the constitution, than that on [...] the Mid­dlesex election was determined. By [...], ‘that th [...] “had no right to impeach a judgment of the House of Com­mons [Page 160]in any case whatsoever where that house has a compe­tent ”jurisdiction,’ they in effect gave up that constitutional check and reciprocal controul of one branch of the legislature over the other, which is perhaps the greatest and most impor­tant object provided for by the division of the whole legisla­tive power into three estates: and now, let the judicial de­cisions of the House of Commons be ever so extravagant, let declarations of the law be ever so flagrantly false, arbi­trary, and oppressive to the subject, the House of Lords have inposed a slarish silence upon themselves;—they cannot in­terpose; they cannot protect the subject; they cannot defend the laws of their country. A concession so extraordinary in itself, so contradictory to the principles of their own institu­tion, cannot but alarm the most unsuspecting mind. We may well conclude, that the lords would hardly have yielded so much to the other house, without the certainty of a compen­sation, which can only be made to them at the expence of the people ^*. The arbitrary power they have assumed of impos­ing fines, and committing during pleasure, will now be ex­ercised in its full extent. The House of Commons are too much in their debt to question or interrupt their proceedings. The crown too, we may be well assured, will lose nothing in this new distribution of power. After declaring, that to pe­tition for a dissolution of Parliaments is irreconcileable with the principles of the constitution, his Majesty has reason to expect that some extraordinary compliment will be returned to the royal prerogative. The three branches of the legisla­ture seem to treat their separate rights and interest as the Ro­man Triumvirs did their friends. They reciprocally sacri­fice them to the animosities of each other, and establish a de­testable union among themselves, upon the ruin of the laws and liberty of the commonwealth.

Through the whole proceedings of the House of Commons in this session, there is an apparent, a palpable consciousness of guilt, which has prevented their daring to assert their own dignity, where it has been immediately and grossly attacked. In the course of Doctor Musgrave's examination, he said every thing that can be conceived mortifying to individuals, or of­fensive [Page 161]to the house. They voted his information frivolous; but they were awed by his firmness and integrity, and sunk under it ^*. The terms, in which the sale of a patent to Mr. Hine was communicated to the public, naturally called for a parliamentary inquiry. The integrity of the House of Com­mons was directly impeached; but they had not courage to more in their own vindication, because the inquity would have been fatal to Colonel Burgoyne and the Duke of Graf­ton. When Sir George Savile branded them with the name of traitors to their constituents, when the [...]rd Mayor, the Sheriffs, and Mr. Trecothick, expressly a [...]owed and maintain­ed every part of the city-remonstrance; why did they tamely submit to be insulted? Why did they not immediately expel those refractory members? Conscious of the motives on which they had acted, they prudently preferred infamy to danger; and were better prepared to meet the contempt, than to rouse the indignation, of the whole people. Had they expelled those five members, the consequences of the new doctrine of incapacitation would have come immediatly home to every man. The truth of it would then have been fairly tried, without any reference to Mr. Wilkes's private character, or the dignity of the house, or the obstinacy of one particular county. These topics, I know, have had their weight with men, who, affecting a character of moderation, in reality consult nothing but their own immediate ease;—who are weak enough to acquiesce under a flagrant violation of the laws, when it does not directly touch themselves; and care not what injustice is practised upon a man, whose moral cha­racter they piously think themselves obliged to condemn. In any other circumstances, the House of Commons must have forfeited all credit and dignity, if, after such gross provoca­tion, they had permitted those five gentlemen to sit any long­er among them. We should then have seen and felt the ope­ration of a precedent, which is represented to be perfectly barren and harmless. But there is a set of men in this coun­try, whose understandings measure the violation of law by the magnitude of the instance, not by the important conse­quences which flow directly from the principle; and the mi­nister, [Page 162]I presume, did not think it safe to quicken their appre­hensions too soon. Had Mr. Hampden reasoned and acted like the moderate men of these days, instead of hazarding his whole fortune in a law-suit with the crown, he would have quietly paid the twenty shillings demanded of him:—the Stuart family would probably have continued upon the throne, and at this moment the imposition of ship-money would have been an acknowledged prerogative of the crown.

What then has been the business of the session, after voting the supplies, and confirming the determination of the Middle­sex election? The extraordinary prorogation of the Irish Parliament, and the just discontents of that kingdom, have been passed by without notice. Neither the general situation of our colonies, nor that particular distress which forced the inhabitants of Boston to take up arms in their defence, have been thought worthy of a moment's consideration. In the repeal of those acts which were most offensive to America, the Parliament have done every thing but remove the offence. They have reliquished the revenue, but judiciously takes care to preserve the contention. It is not pretended that the continuation of the tea-duty is to produce any direct benefit whatsoever to the mother-country. What is it then but an odious unprofitable exertion of a speculative right, and fixing a badge of slavery upon the Americans, without service to their masters? But it has pleased God to give us a Ministry and a Parliament, who are neither to be persuaded by argu­ment nor instructed by experience.

Lord North, I presume, will not claim an extraordinary merit from any thing he has done this year in the improve­ment or application of the revenue. A great operation, di­rected to an important object, though it should fail of success, marks the genius and elevates the character of a minister. A poor contracted understanding deals in little schemes, which dishonour him if they fail, and do him no credit when they succeed. Lord North had fortunately the means in his pos­session of reducing all the four percents at once. The failure of his first enterprize in finance, is not half so disgraceful to his reputation as a minister, as the enterprize itself is injurious to the public. Instead of striking one decisive blow, which would have cleared the market at once, upon terms propor­tioned to the price of the four percents six weeks ago, he has tampered with a pitiful portion of a commodity, which ought [Page 163]never to have been touched but in gross:—he has given no­tice to the holders of that stock, of a design formed by go­vernment to prevail upon them to surrender it by degrees, consequently has warned them to hold up and enhance the price:—so that the plan of reducing the four per cents must either he dropped entirely, or continued with an increasing disadvantage to the public. The minister's sagacity has serv­ed to raise the value of the thing he means to purchase, and to sink that of the three percents, which it is his purpose to fell. In effect, he has contrived to make it the interest of the proprietor of four percents to sell out, and buy three percents in the market, rather than subscribe his stock upon any terms that can possibly be offered by government.

The staate [...], nation leads us naturally to consider the situation of the King. The prorogation of Parliament has the effect of a temporary dissolution. The [...]dium of mea­sures adopted by the collective body sits lightly up on the se­parate members who compose it. They retire into summer-quarters, and rest from the disgraceful labours of the cam­paign. But as for the Sovereign, it is not so with him. He has a permanent existence in this country; he cannot with­draw himself from the complaints, the discontents, the re­proaches, of his subjects. They pursue him to his retire­ment, and invade his domestic happiness, when no address can be obtained from an obsequious Parliament to encourage or console him. In other times, the interest of the King and people of England was, as it ought to be, entirely the same. A new system has not only been adopted in fact, but profes­sed upon principle. Ministers are no longer the public ser­vants of the state, but the private domestics of the Sovereign. One particular class of men are permitted to call themselves the King's friends ^*, as if the body of the people were the King's enemies; or as if his Majesty looked for a resource or consolation in the attachment of a few favourites, against the general contempt and detestation of his subjects. Edward, and Richard the Second, made the same distinction between the collective body of the people, and a contemptible party who surrounded the throne. The event of their mistaken [Page 164]conduct might have been a warning to their successors. Yet the errors of those princes were not without excuse. They had as many false friends as our present gracious Sovereign, and infinitely greater temptations to seduce them. They were neither sober, religious, nor demure. Intoxicated with pleasure, they wasted their inheritance in pursuit of it. Their lives were like a rapid torrent, brilliant in prospect, though useless or dangerous in its course. In the dull, unanimated existence of other princes, we see nothing but a sickly stag­nant water, which taints the atmosphere without serializing the soil. The morality of a king is not to be measured by vulgar rules. His situation is singular. There are faults which do him honour, and virtues that disgrace him. A faultless insipid equality in his character, is neither capable of vice nor virtue in the extreme; but it secures his submission to those persons whom he has been accustomed to respect, and makes him a dangerous instrument of their ambitions. Secluded from the world, attached from his infancy to one set of persons and one set of ideas, he can neither open his heart to new connections, nor his mind to better information. A character of this sort is the soil fittest to produce that ob­stinate bigotry in politics and religion, which begins with a meritorious sacrifice of the understanding, and finally con­ducts the monarch and the martyr to the block.

At any other period, I doubt not, the scandalous disorders which have been introduced into the government of all the dependencies in the empire, would have roused the attention of the public. The odious abuse and prostitution of the prerogative at home,—the unconstitutional employment of the military,—the arbitrary fines and commitments by the House of Lords, and court of King's-bench;—the mercy of a chaste and pious prince, extended cheerfully to a wilful murderer, because that murderer is the brother of a common prostitute ^*, would, I think, at any other time, have excited universal indignation. But the daring attack upon the con­stitution, in the Middlesex election, makes us callous and in­different to inderior grievances. No man regards an erupti­on upon the surface, when the noble parts are invaded, and he feels a mortification approaching to his heart. The free election of our representatives in Parliament comprehends, because it is, the source and security of every right and pri­vilege [Page 165]of the English nation. The ministry have realized the compendious i [...]as of Caligula. They know that the liberty, the laws, and property of an Englishman, have in truth but one neck; and that to violate the freedom of elec­tion, strikes deeply at them all.

LETTER XL. TO LORD NORTH.

MR. Luttrell's services were the chief support and orna­ment of the Duke of Grafton's administration. The honour of rewarding them was reserved for your Lordship. The Duke, it seems, had contracted an obligation he was ashamed to acknowledge, and unable to acquit. You, my Lord, had no scruples. You accepted the succession with all its incumbrances; and have paid Mr. Luttrell his legacy, at the hazard of ruining the estate.

When this accomplished youth declared himself the cham­pion of government, the world was busy in inquiring what honours or emoluments could be a sufficient recompence to a young man of his rank and fortune, for submitting to mark his entrance into life with the universal contempt and de­testation of his country.—His noble father had not been so precipitate.—To vacate his seat in Parliament,—to intrude upon a country in which he had no interest or connection,— to possess himself of another man's right, and to maintain it in defiance of public shame as well as justice, bespoke a de­gree of zeal, or of depravity, which all the favour of a pious prince could hardly requite. I protest, my Lord, there is in this young man's conduct, a strain of prostitution, which, for its singularity, I cannot but admire. He has discovered a new line in the human character;—he has degraded even the name of Luttrell, and gratified his father's most sanguine expectations.

The Duke of Grafton, with every possible disposition to patronize this kind of merit, was contented with pronouncing Colonel Luttrell's panegyric. The gallant spirit, the disin­terested zeal of the young adventurer, were echoed through [Page 166]the House of Lords. His Grace repeatedly pledged himself to the house, as an evidence of the purity of his friend Mr. Luttrell's intentions;—that he had engaged without any pros­pect of personal benefit, and that the idea of compensation would mortally offend him ^*. The noble Duke could hard­ly be in earnest; but he had lately quitted his employment, and began to think it necessary to take some care of his repu­tation. At that very moment the Irish negociation was pro­bably begun.—Come forward, thou worthy representative of Lord Bute, and tell this insulted country, who advised the King to appoint Mr. Luttrell ADJUTANT-GENERAL to the army in Ireland? By what management was Colonel Cuning­hame prevailed on to resign his employment, and the obse­quious Gisborne to accept a pension for the government of Kinsale ^†? Was it an original stipulation with the Princess of Wales, or does he owe his preferment to your Lordship's partiality, or to the Duke of Bedford's friendship? My Lord, though it may not be possible to trace this measure to its source, we can follow the stream, and warn the country of its approaching distruction. The English nation must be roused, and put upon its guard. Mr. Luttrell has already shewn us how far he may be trusted, whenever an open attack is to be made upon the liberties of this country. I do not doubt that there is a deliberate plan formed.—Your Lordship best knows by whom;—the corruption of the le­gislative body on this side—a military force on the other— and then, Farewell to England! It is impossible that any minister shall dare to advise the King to place such a man as Luttrell in the confidential post of adjutant-general, if there were not some secret purpose in view, which only such a [Page 167]man as Luttrell is fit to promote. The insult offered to the army in general, is as gross as the cutrage intended to the people of England. What! Lieutenant-colonel Luttrell ad­jutant-general of an army of sixteen thousand [...]! One might think his Majesty's campaigns at Blackheath and Wimbledon might have taught him better.—I cannot help wishing General Harvey joy of a colleague who does so much honour to the employment.—but, my Lord, this treasure is too caring to pass [...] too [...] receiv­ed with indifference or [...] to new-model the Irish army. They [...] garbled by Colonel Luttrell. As a [...] con [...]titution, for he is not worth the name of enemy [...] already detest him. As a boy, impudently thrust over their heads, they will receive him with indignation and contempt. As for you, my Lord, who perhaps are no more than the blind unhappy instrument of Lord Bete and her Royal High­ness the Princess of W [...]les, [...], that you shall be c [...]ll­ed upon to answer for the advice which has been given, and either discover your accomplices, or fall a sacrifice to their security.

LETTER XLI. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD MANSFIELD.

THE appearance of this letter will attract the curiosity of the public, and command even your Lordship's atten­tion. I am considerably in your debt; and shall endeavour, once for all, to balance the account. Accept of this address, my Lord, as a prologue to more important scenes, in which you will probably be called upon to act or suffer.

You will not question my veracity, when I assure you, that it has not been owing to any particular respect for your person, that I have abstained from youth so long. Besides the distress and danger with which the press is threatened, when you Lordship is party, and the party is to be the judge, I confess I have been deterred by the difficulty of the talk. Our language has no term of reproach, the mind has no idea of [Page $$$]detestation, which has not already been happily applied to you, and exhausted,—Ample justice has been done by abl [...] pens than mine to the separate merits of your life and cha­racter. Let it be [...] humble office to collect the scattered sweets, till their united virtue tortures the sense.

Permit me to begin with paying a just tribute to Scotch sincerity wherever I find it. I own I am not apt to confide in the professions of gentlemen of that country; and when they smile, I feel an involuntary emotion to guard myself against mischief. With this general opinion of an ancient nation, I always thought it much to your Lordship's honour, that, in your earlier days, you were but little infected with the pru­dence of your country. You had some original attachments, which you took every proper opportunity to acknowledge. The liberal spirit of youth prevailed over your native discre­tion. Your zeal in the cause of an unhappy prince was ex­pressed with the sincerity of wine, and some of the solemni­ties of religion ^*. This, I conceive, is the most amiable point of view in which your character has appeared. Like an honest man. you took that part in polities which might have been expected from your [...]rth. education, country, and connections. There was something generous in your attach­ment to the banished house of Stuart. We lament the mis­takes of a good man, and do not begin to detest him until he affects to renounce his principles. Why did you not ad­here to that loyalty you once professed? Why did you not f [...]llow the example of your worthy brother ^†? With him you might have shared in the honour of the Pretender's confi­dence—with him you might have preserved the integrity of your character; and England. I think, might have spared you without regret. Your friends will say, perhaps, that although you deserted the fortune of your liege Lord, you have adhered firmly to the principles which drove his father from the throne:—that, without openly supporting the per­son, you have done essential service to the cause, and con­soled yourself for the loss of a favourite family, by reviving and establishing the maxims of their government. This is [Page 169]the way in which a Scotchman's understanding corrects the errors of his heart. My Lord, I acknowledge the truth of the defence, and can trace it through all your conduct. I see through your whole life one uniform plan to enlarge the power of the crown, at the expence of the liberty of the sub­ject. To this object, your thoughts, words, and actions, have been constantly directed. In contempt or ignorance of the common law of England, you have made it your study to introduce into the court where you preside, maxims of jurisprudence unknown to Englishmen. The Roman code, the law of nations, and the opinion of foreign civilians, are your perpetual theme;—but who ever heard you mention Magna Charta, or the Bill of Rights, with approbation or respect? By such treacherous arts, the noble simplicity and free spirit of our Saxon laws were first corrupted. The Nor­man conquest was not complete, until Norman lawyers had introduced their laws, and reduced slavery to a system. This one leading principle directs your interpretation of the laws, and accounts for your treatment of juries. It is not in poli­tical questions only, (for there the courtier might be forgiv­en;) but, let the case be what it may, your understanding is equally on the rack, either to contract the power of the jury, or to mislead their judgment. For the truth of this assertion, I appeal to the doctrine you delivered in Lord Grosvenor's cause. An action for criminal conversation being brought by a peer against a prince of the blood, you were daring enough to tell the jury, that, in fixing the damages, they were to pay no regard to the quality or fortune of the par­ties;—that it was a trial between A and B;—that they were to consider the offence in a moral light only, and give no greater damages to a peer of the realm than to the meanest mechanic. I shall not attempt to refute a doctrine which, if it was meant for law, carries falsehood and absurdity upon the face of it; but if it was meant for a declaration of your po­litical creed, is clear and consistent. Under an arbitrary go­vernment, all ranks and distinctions are confounded. The honour of a nobleman is no more considered than the reputa­tion of [...] peasant; for, with different liveries, they are equal­ly slaves.

Even in matters of private property, we see the same bi [...] and inclination to depart from the decisions of your prede­cessors, which you certainly ought to receive as evidence of [Page 170]the common law. Instead of those certain positive rules by which the judgment of a court of law should invariably be determined, you have fondly introduced your own unsettled notions of equity and substantial justice. Decisions give up­on such principles do not alarm the public so much as they ought, because the consequence and tendency of each parti­cular instance is not observed or regarded. In the mean time, the practice gains ground; the court of King's-bench becomes a court of equity; and the judge, instead of consulting strict­ly the law of the land, refers only to the wisdom of the court, and to the purity of his own conscience. The name of Mr. Justice Yates will naturally revive in your mind some of those emotions of fear and detestation with which you always be­held him. That great lawyer, that honest man, saw your whole conduct in the light that I do. After years of ineffec­tual resistance to the pernicious principles introduced by your Lordship, and uniformly supported by your humble friends upon the bench, he determined to quit a court whose pro­ceedings and decisions he could neither assent to with honour, nor oppose with success.

^* The injustice done to an individual is sometimes of service to the public. Facts are apt to alarm us more than the most dangerous principles. The sufferings and firmness of a printer have roused the public attention. You know and felt that your conduct would not bear parliamentary inquiry; and you hoped to escape it by the meanest, the bases sacrifice of dignity and consistency, that ever was made by a great magi­strate. Where was your firmness, where was that vindictive spirit, of which we have so many examples, when a man, so inconsiderable as Bingley, could force you to confess, in the face of this country, that, for two years together, you had illegally deprived an English subject of his liberty, and that he had triumphed over you at last? Yet I own, my Lord, that yours is not an uncommon character. Women, and men like women, are timid, vindictive, and irresolute. Their passions counteract each other; and make the same creature, at one moment hateful, at another contemptible. I fancy, my Lord, some time will elapse before you venture to com­mit [Page 171]another Englishman for refusing to answer interroga­tories ^*.

The doctrine you have constantly delivered in cases of libel, is another powerful evidence of a settled plan to contract the legal power of juries, and to draw questions, in separable from fact, within the arbitrium of the court. Here, my Lord, you have fortune on your side. When you invade the province of the jury in matter of libel, your in effect attack the liberty of the press, and with a single stroke would two of your greatest enemies. In some instances you have succeeded, be­cause jurymen are too often ignorant of their own rights, and too apt to be awed by the authority of a chief-justice. In other criminal prosecutions, the malice of the design is con­fessedly as much the subject of consideration to a jury, as the certainty of the fact. If a different doctrine prevails in the case of libels, why should it not extend to all criminal cases? why not to capital offences? I see no reason, (and I dare say you will agree with me, that there is no good one) why the life of the subject should be better protect [...] against you, than his liberty or property. Why should you enjoy the full pow­er of pillory, fine, and imprisonment, and not be indulged with hanging or transportation? With your Lordship's fertile genius and merciful disposition, I can conceive such an exer­cise of the power you have, as could hardly be aggravated by that which you have not.

But, my Lord, since you have laboured (and not unsuc­cessfully) to destroy the substance of the trial, why should you suffer the form of the verdict to remain? Why force twelve honest men, in palpable violation of their [...]aths, to pronounce their fellow-subject a guily man, when, almost at the same moment, you forbid their inquiring into the only circum­stance which, in the eye of law and reason, constitutes guilt— the malignity or innocence of his intentions?—But I under­stand your Lordship. If you could succeed in making the trial by jury useless and ridiculous, you might then with [Page 172]greater safety introduce a bill into Parliament for enlarging the jurisdiction of the court, and extending your favourite trial by interrogatories to every question in which the life or liberty of an Englishman is concerned ^*.

Your charge to the jury, in the prosecution against Almon and Woodfall, contradicts the highest legal authorities, as well as the plainest dictates of reason. In Miller's cause, and still more expressly in that contradicted yourself.—You may know perhaps, though I do not mean to insult you by an ap­peal to your experience, that the language or truth is uniform and discretion. In the two last trials, your charge to the ju­ry began as usual, with assuring them that they had nothing to do with the law,—that they were to find the bare fact, and not concern themselves about the legal inferences draw from it, or the degree of the defendant's guilt.—Thus far you were consistent with you former practice.—But how will you account for the conclusion? You told the jury, that ‘“if, after all, they would take upon themselves to determine the law, they might do it; but they must be very sure that they determined according to law, for it touched their con­sciences, ”and they acted at their peril.’—If I understand your first proposition, you meant to affirm that the jury were not competent judges of the law in the criminal case of a li­bel;—that it did not fall within their jurisdiction; and that, with respect to them, the malice or innocence of the defend­ant's intentions would be a question coram non judice.—But the second proposition clears away your own difficulties, and restores the jury to all their judicial capacities. You ^† [Page 173]make the competence of the court to depend upon the legali­ty of the decision. In the first instance, you deny the power absolutely, In the second, you admit the power, provided it be legally exercised. Now, my Lord, without pretending to reconcile the distinctions of Westminster-hall with the sim­ple information of common sense or the integrity of fair ar­gument, I shall be understood by your Lordship, when as­sert, that, if a jury, or any other court of judicature, (for jurors are jude [...]), have no right to enter into a cause of ques­tion of law, it signifies nothing whether their decision be or be not according to law. Their decision is in itself a mere nullity: the parties are not bound to submit to it: and, if the jury run any risk of punishment, it is not for pronounc­ing a corrupt or illegal verdict, but for the illegality of med­dling with a point on which they have no legal authority to decide ^*.

I cannot quit this subject, without reminding your Lord­ship of the name of Mr. Benson. Without offering any le­gal objection, you ordered a special juryman to be set aside in a cause where the King was prosecutor. The novelty of the fact required explanation. Will you condescend to tell the world, by what law or custom you were authorised to make a peremptory challenge of a juryman? The parties in­deed have this power; and perhaps your Lordship, having accustomed yourself to unite the characters of judge and par­ty, may claim it in virtue of the new capacity you have as­sumed, and profit by your own wrong. The time, within which you might have been punished for this daring attempt to pack a jury, is, I fear, elapsed; but no length of time shall erase the record of it.

The mischiefs you have done his country are not confined to your interpretation of the laws. You are a minister, my Lord; and, as such, have long been consulted. Let us can­didly [Page 174]examine what use you have made of your ministerial influence. I will not desoend to little matters, but come at [...] to those important points on which your resolution was waited for, on which the expectation of your opinion lept a great part of the nation in suspence.—A constitutional ques­tion arises upon a declaration of the law of Parliament, by which the freedom of election and the birth-right of the sub­ject were supposed to have been invaded,—The King's ser­vants are accused of violating the constitution.—The ration is in a ferment.—The ablest men of all parties engage in the question, and exert their utmost abilities in the discussion of it.—What part has the honest Lord Mansfield acted? As an eminent judge of the law, his opinion would have been re­spected. —As a peer, he had a right to demand an audience of his Sovereign. and inform him that his ministers were pur­ring unconstitutional measures.—Upon other occasions, my Lord, you have no difficulty of finding your way into the cloet. The pretended neutrality of belonging to no party, will not save your reputation. In questions merely political an honest man may stand neuter. But the laws and constitu­tion are the general property of the subject: not do defend is to relinquish:—and who is there so senseless as to renounce his share in a common benefit, unless he hopes to profit by a new division of the spoil? As a lord of Parliament, you were repeatedly called upon o condemn or defend the new law declared by the House of Commons. You affected to have scruples, and every expedients was attempted to remove them.—The questions has proposed and urged to you in a thousand different shap [...].—Your prudence still supplied you with evasion:—your resolution was invincible. For my own part, I am not anxious to penetrate this solemn secret. I care not to whose wisdom it is intrusted, nor how soon you carry it with you to your grave ^*. You have betrayed your opi­nion by the very care you have taken to conceal it. It is not from Lord Mansfield that we expect any reserve in declaring his real sentiments in favour of government, or in opposition to the people; not is it difficult to account for the motions of a timid, dishonest heart, which neither has virtue enough to acknowledge truth, nor courage to contradict it.—Yet you [Page 175]continue to support an administration which you know is universally odious, and which, on some occasions, you your­self speak of with contempt. You would fain be thought to take no share in government; while, in reality, you are the nuin spring of the machine.—Here too we trace the little, prudential policy of a Scotchman.—Instead of acting that o­pen, generous part, which becomes your rank and station, you meanly skulk into the closet, and give your Sovereign such advice as your have not spirit to [...]ow or defend.—You secretly engross the power, while you decline the title, of minister; and though you dare not be chancellor, you know how to secure the emoluments of the office.—Are the seals to be for ever in commission, that you may enjoy five thousand pounds a year?—I beg pardon, my Lord;—your fears have interposed at last, and forced you to resign.—The odium of continuing speaker of the House of Lords, upon such terms, was too formidable to be resisted. What a multitude of bad passions are forced to submit to a constitutional infirmity! But though you have relinquished the salary, you still assume the right of a minister.—Your conduct, it seems, must be defended in Parliament.—For what other purpose is your wretched friend, that miserable serjeant, posted to the House of Commons? Is it in the abilities of Mr. Leigh to defend the great Lord Mansfield?—or is he only the Punch of the puppet-show, to speak as he is prompted by the CHIEF JUG­GLER behind the curtain ^*?

In public affairs, my Lord, cunnig, let it be ever so well wrought, will not conduct a man honourably through life. Like bad money, it may be current for a time, but it will [...]on be cried sown It cannot consist with a liberal spirit, [...] it be sometimes [...] with extraordinary qualifica­tion, When I acknowledge your abilities, you may believe I am [...], I feel for human nature, when I se a man, so gift [...] you are, de [...]end to such vile practices.—Yet do not dui [...] vanity to console you too soon. Believe me, my good [...]d, you are not admired in the same degree in which you are detested. It is only the partiality of your friends, [...]at balances the defects of your heart with the supe­ri [...] of your understanding. No learned man, even among your own tribe, thinks you qualified to preside in a court f [Page 176]common law. Yet it is confessed, that, under Justinian, you might have made an incomparable Praet [...]r.—It is remark­able enough, but I hope not ominous, that the law [...] you un­derstand best, and the judges you affect to admire most, flou­rished in the decline of a great empire, and are supposed to have contributed to its fall.

Here, my Lord, it may be proper for us to pause toge­ther. —It is not for my own sake that I with you to consider the delicacy of your sitnation. Beware how you indulge the first emotions of your resentment. This paper is delivered to the world, and cannot be recalled. The persecution of as innocent printer cannot alter facts, nor refute arguments.—Do not furnish me with farther materials against yourself.—An honest man, like the true religion, appeals to the under­standing, or modestly confides in the internal evidence of his conscience. The impostor employs force instead of argu­ment, imposes silence where he cannot convince, and propa­gates his character by the sword.

LETTER XLII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

IF we recollect in what manner the King's friends have been constantly employed, we shall have no reason to be sur­prised at any condition of disgrace to which the once-respect­ed name of Englishmen may be degraded. His Majesty has no cares, but such as concern the laws and constitution of this country. In his Royal breast there is no room lest for re­sentment, no place for hostile sentiments against the natural enemies of his crown. The system of government is uni­form.—Violence and oppression at home can only be support­ed by treachery and submission abroad. When the civil rights of the people are daringly invaded on one side, what have we to expect, but that their political rights should be deserted and betrayed, in the same proportion, on the other? The plan of domestic policy which has been invariably pursued from the moment of his present Majesty's accession, engrosses [Page 177]all the attention of his servants. They know that eh secu­rity of their pieces depends upon their maintaining, at any h [...]ard, the secret system of the closet. A foreign war might embarrass, and unfavourable event might ruin the minister, and defeat the deep-laid scheme of policy to which he and his associates owe their employments. Rather than suffer the ex­ecution of that scheme to be delayed or interrupted, the King has been advised to make: public surrender, a solemn sacr [...] ­ [...]e, in the face of all Europe, not only of the interests of his subjects, but of his own personal reputation, and o [...] the dig­nity of that crown which his predecessors have worn with ho­nour. These are strong terms, Sir, but they are supported by fact and argument.

The King of Great-Britain had been for some years in possession of an island, to which, as the ministry themselves have repeatedly asserted, the Spaniards had no claim of right, The importance of the place is not in question. If it were, a better judgment might be formed of it from the opinion of Lord Anson and Lord Egmont, and from the anxiety of the Spaniards, than from any fallacious insinuations thrown out by men whose interest it is to undervalue that property which they are determined to relinquish. The pretensions of Spain were a subject of negociation between the two cour [...]s. They had been discussed, but not admitted. The King of Spain, in these circumstances, bids adieu to amicable negociation, and appeals directly to the sword. The expedition against Port-Egmont does not appear to have been a sudden ill-con­certed enterprise. It seems to have been conducted not only with the usual military precautions, but in all the forms and ceremonies of war. A frigate was first employed to examine the strength of the place. A message was then sent, demand­ing immediate possession, in the Catholic King's name, and ordering our people to depart. At last a military force ap­pears, and compels the garrison to surrender. A formal ca­pitulation ensues; and his Majesty's ship, which might at least have been permitted to bring home his troops immedi­ately, is detained in port twenty days, and her rudder forcibly taken away. This train of facts carries no appearance of the rashness or violence of a Spanish governor. On the contrary, the whole plan seems to have been formed and executed, in consequence of deliberate orders and a regular instruction from the Spanish court. Mr. Buccarelli is not a pirate nor has he [Page 178]been treated as such by those who employed him. I feel for the honour of a gentleman, when I affirm, that our King owes him a signal reparation.—Where will the humiliation of this country end? A King of Great-Britain, not content­ed with placing himself upon a level with a Spanish governor, descends so low as to do a notorious injustice to that governor. As a salvo for his own reputation, he has been advised to tra­duce the character of a brave officer, and to treat him as a common robber, when he know with certainty that Mr. Buc­carelli had acted in obedience to his orders, and had done no more than his duty. Thus it happens in private life, with a man who has no spirit not sense of honour. One of his equals orders a servant to strike him. Instead of returning the how to the master, his courage is contented with throwing an aspersion, equally false and public, upon the character of the servant.

This short recapitulation was necessary to introduce the consideration of his Majesty's speech of the 13th November 1770, and the subsequent measures of government. The ex­cessive caution with which the speech was drawn up, had im­pressed upon me an early conviction, that no ferious resent­ment was thought of, and that the conclusion of the business, whenever it happened, must in some degree be dishonourable to England. There appears through the whole speech a gnard and reserve in the choice of expression, which shows how careful the ministry were not to embarrass their future pro­jects by any firm or spirited declaration from the throne. When all hopes of peace are lost, his Majesty tells his Parlia­ment, that he is preparing—not for barbarous war, but (with all his mother's softness) for a different situation.—An open hostility, authorised by the Catholic King, is called an act of a governor. This act, to avoid the mention of a regular siege and surrender, passes under the piratical description of seizing by force; and the thing taken is described, not as a part of the King's territory or proper dominion, but merely as a possession, a word expressly chosen in contradistinction to and exclusion of the idea of right, and to prepare us for a future] surrender both of the right and of the possession. Yet this speech, Sir, cautious and equivocal as it is, cannot, by any sophistry, be accommodated to the measures which have since been adopted. It seemed to promise, that whatever might be given up by secret stipulation, some care would be taken to [Page 179]sa [...]e appearances to the public. The event shows us, that to depart, in the minutest article, from the nicety and strictness of punctilio, is as dangerous to national honour as to female virtue. The woman, who admits of one familiarity, seldom knows where to stop, or what to refuse; and when the coun­cils of a great country give way in a single instance,—when they once are inclined to submission, every step accelerates the rapidity of the descent. The ministry themselves, when they framed the speech, did not foresee, that they should ever accede to such an accommodation as they have since ad­vised their Master to accept of.

The King says. The honour of my crown and the rights of my people are deeply affected. The Spaniard, in his reply, says, I give you back possession; but I adhere to my claim of prior right, reserving the assertion of it for a more favourable opportunity.

The speech says, I made an immediate demand of satisfaction; and, if that fails, I am prepared to do myself justice. This im­mediate demand must have been sent to Madrid on the 12th of September, or in a few days after. It was certainly re­fused, or evaded, and the King has not done himself justice. When the first Magistrate speaks to the nation, some care should be taken of his apparent veracity.

The speech proceeds to say, I shall not discontinue my pre­parations until I have received people reparation for the injury. If this assurance may be relied on, what an enormous expense is entailed, sine [...], upon this unhappy country! Restitution of a possession, and reparation of an injury, are as different in substance as they are in language. The very act of resti­tution may contain, as in this instance it palpably does, a shameful aggravation of the injury. A man of spirit does not measure the degree of an injury by the mere positive da­mage he has sustained. He considers the principle on which it is founded; he resents the superiority asserted over him; and rejects with indignation the claim of right, which his adversary endeavours to establish, and would force him to acknowledge.

The motives on which the Catholic King makes restituti­on, are, if possible, more insolent and disgraceful to our So­vereign than even the declaratory condition annexed to it. After taking four months to consider whether the expedition was undertaken by his own orders or not, he condescends to disavow the enterprise, and to restore the island;—not from [Page 180]any regard to justice,—not from any regard he bears to his Britannic Majesty; but merely from the [...], in which he is, of the [...] sentiments of the King of Greas-Britain's— At this rate, if our King had discovered the spirit of a man, —if he had made a peremptory demand of satisfaction, the King of Spain would have given him a peremptory refusal. But why this unseasonable, this ridiculoes meantion of the King of Great-Britain's pacific intentions? Have they eve [...] been in question? Was He the aggressor? Does he attack foreign powers without provocation? Does he even resist, when he is insulated? No, Sir; if any ideas of strife of ho­stility have catered his Royal mind, they have a very different direction. The enemies of England have nothing to fear from them.

After all, Sir, to what kind of disavowal has the King of Spain at last consemed? Supposing it made in proper time, it should have been accompanied with instant restitution; and, if, Mr. Buccarelli acted without orders, be deserved death. Now Sir instead of immediate restitution, we have a four [...]; [...]ociation; and the officer, whose act is disavowed, returns to court, and is loaded with honours.

If the actual situation of Europe be considered, the treach­ery of the King's servant particularly of Lord No [...]h, who takes the whole upon himself, will appear in the [...] colours of aggravation. Our allies were masters of the Me­diterranean. The King of France's present aversion from war, and the distraction of his affairs, are notorious. He is now in a state of war with his people. In vain did the Ca­tholic King solicit him to take part in the quarrel against us. His finances were in the last disorder, and it was probable that his troops might find sufficient employment at home. In these circumstances, we might have dictated the law to Spain. There are no terms to which she might not have been compelled to submit. At the worst, a war with Spain [...] carries the fairest promise of advantage. One good effect at least would have been immediately produced by it. The de­sertion of France would have irritated her ally, and in all probability have dissolved the family-compact. The scene is now fatally changed. The advantage is thrown away. The most favourable opportunity is lost.—Hereaster we shall know the value of it. When the French King is reconciled to his subjects; when Spain has completed her preparations; [Page 181]when the collected strength of the house of Bourbon attacks us at once, the King himself will be able to determine upon the wisdom or imprudence of his present conduct. As far as the probability of argument extends, we may safely pro­nounce, that a conjuncture, which threatens the very being of this country, has been willfully prepared and forwarded by out own ministry. How far the people may be animated to resistance under the present administration, I know not; but this I know with certainty, that, under the present admini­stration, or if any thing like it should continue, it is of very little moment whether we are a conquered nation or not ^*.

Having travelled thus far in the high road of matter of fact, I may now be permitted to wander a little into the sield of imagination. Let us banish from our minds the persuasion that these events have really happened in the reign of the best of princes. Let us consider them as nothing more than the materials of a fable, [...] which we may conceive the Sovereign of some other country to be concerned. I mean to violate all the laws of probability, when I suppose. that this imagi­nary King, after having voluntarily disgraced himself in the eyes of his subjects, might return to a sense of his dishonour; that he might perceive the snare laid for him by his ministers, and feel a spark of shame kindling in his breast. The part be must then be obliged to act, would overwhelm him with confusion. To his Parliament he must say, I called you [...] is [...] your advice, and have never asked you opinion so the merchant,— I have distressed your commerce; I have dragged your [...] of your strips; I have loaded you with a grievous weight of insurances. To the landholder,— I told you [Page 182]war was too probable, when I was determined to submit to any terms of accommodation; I extorted now taxes from you before it was prssible they could be wanted, and am now unable to account for the application of them. To the public creditor,— I have delivered up your fortunes a prey to foreigners and to the vilest of your fellow-subjects. Perhaps this repenting prince might con­clude with one general acknowledgment to them all;— I have involved every rank of my subjects in anxiety an distress; and have nothing to offer you in return, but the certainty of national dishonour, an armed truce, and peace without security.

If these accounts were settled, there would still remain as apology to be made to his navy and to his army. To the first he would say, You were once the terror of the world. But go back to your harbours. A man dishonoured as I am, has us use for your service. It is not probable that he would appear again before his soldiers, even in the pacific ceremony of a review ^*. But wherever he appeared, the humiliating con­fession would be extorted from him; I have received a blow — and had not spirit to resent it. I demanded satisfaction; and have accepted a declaration, in which the right to strite me again is asserted and confirmed. His countenance at least would speak this language, and even his guards would blush for him.

But to return to our argument.—The ministry, it seems, are labouring to draw a line of distinction between the ho­nour of the Crown and the rights of the People. This new idea has yet been only started in discourse; for in effect both objects have been equally sacrificed. I neither understand the distinction, nor what use the ministry propose to make of it. The King's honour is that of his people. Their real honour and real interest are the same.—I am not contending for a vain punctilio. A clear unblemished character comprehends, not only the integrity that will not offer, but the spirit that will not submit to, and injury; and whether it belongs to an individual or to a community, it is the foundation of peace, of independence, and of safety. Private creadit is wealth;— public honour is security,—The feather that adorns the royal bird supports his flight. Strip him of his plumage, and you fix him to the earth.

LETTER XLIII. TO THE PRINTEI OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I HOPE your correspondent Junius is better employed than in answering or reading the criticisms of a newspaper. This is a task from which, if he were inclined to submit to it, his friends ought to relieve him. Upon this principle I shall undertake to answer Anti-Junius; more, I believe, to hid conviction than to his satisfaction. Not daring to attack the main body of Junius's last letter, he triumphs in having, as he thinks, surprised an out-post. and cut off a detached ar­gument, a mere straggling proposition. But even in this petty warfare he shall find himself defeated.

Junius does not speak of the Spanish nation as the natural [...] of England. He applies that description, with the strictest truth and justice, to the Spanish Court. From the moment when a prince of the house of Bourbon ascended that throne, their whole system of governments was inverted, and became hostile to this country. Unity of possession introduc­ed an unity of politice; and Lew is the Fourteenth had reason when he said to his grandson, "The Pyrekees are removed." The history of the present century is one continued confirma­tion of the prophecy.

The assertion, ‘ That violence and oppression at home can “ ”only be supported by treachery and submission abroad,’ is ap­plied to a free people whose rights are invaded, not to the government of a country where despotic or absolute power is confessedly vested in the prince; and with this application, the affertion is true. An absolute monarch, having no points to carry at home, will naturally maintain the honour of his crown in all his transactions with foreign powers: But if we could suppose the Sovereign of a free nation possession [...] a design to make himself absolute, he would be inconsistent with himself, if he suffered his projects to be interrupted or [...] rassed by a foreign war, unless that war tended, as in [...] cases it might, to promote his principal design. Of the three exceptions to this general rule of conduct, (quoted by Anti-Junius). that of Oliver Cromwell is the only one in polar Harry the Eighth, by the submission of his Parliament, was [Page 184]as abolute a prince as Lewis the fourteenth. Queen Eliza­beth's government was not oppressive to the people, and as to her foreign wars, it ought to be considered that they were [...]dable. The national honour was not in question. She was compelled to fight in defence of her own person and of her title to the crown. In the common cause of selfish policy. Oliver Cromwell should have cultivated the friendship of fo­reign powers, or at least have avoided disputes with them, the better to establish his tyranny at home. Had be been only a bad man, he would have sacrificed the honour of the nation to the success of his domesiic policy. But, with all his crimes, he had the spirit of an Englishman. The conduct of such a man must always be an exception to vulgar take. He had abilities sufficient to reconcile contradictions, and to make a great nation at the same moment unhappy and for­midable. If it were not for the respect I bear the minister, I could name a man, who, without one grain of understand­ing, can do half as much as Oliver Cromwell.

Whether or no there be a secret system in the closet, and what may be the object of it, are questions which can only be determined by appearances, and on which every man most decide for himself.

The whole plan of Junius's letter proves, that he himself makes no distinction between the real honour of the crown and the real interest of the people. In the climax to which your correspondent objects, Junius adopts the language of the Court, and by that comformity gives strength to his argument. He says, that ‘ the King has not eely scarificed the interests of “the people, but (what was likely to touch him more nearly) ” his personal reputation and the dignity of his crown.’

The queries put by Anti-Junius can only be answered by the ministry. Abandoned as they are, I fancy they will not confess that they have, for so many years, maintained pos­session of another man's property, After admitting the as­sertion of the ministry, viz. That the Spaniards had no right­ful claim, and after justifying them for saying so; it is his business not mine, to give us some good reason for their suffering [...]he pretension of Spain to be a subject of negotiation. He admits the facts;—let him reconcile them if he can.

The last paragraph brings us back to the original question. Whether the Spanish declaration contains such a satistaction as the King of Great-Britain ought to have accepted. This [Page 185]was the field upon which he ought to have countered Junius openly and fairly. But here he leaves the argument, as no longer defensible. I shall therefore conclude with one gene­ral admonition to my fellow-subjects:—That when they hear these matters debated, they should not suffer themselves to be misled by general declamations upon the conveniencies of peace, or the miseries of war. Between peace an was, ab­stractedly, there is not, there cannot, be a question in the mind of a rational being. The real questions are, Have we any security that the peace we have so dearly purchased will last a [...]? and if not,— Have we, or have we not, sa­crificed the fairest opportunity of making ever with advantage?

LETTER XLIV. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC AD­VERTISER.

TO write for profit, without taxing the press;—to write for fame, and to be unknown;—to support the in­trigues of faction, and to be disowned, as a dangerous auxi­liary, by every party in the kingdom; are contradictions which the minister must reconcile. before I forfeit my credit with the public. I may quit the service, but it would be ab­surd to suspect me of desertion. The deputation of these pa­pers is an honourable pledge for my attachment to the people. To sacrifice a respected character, and to renounce the esteem of society, requires more than Mr. Wecklerburne's resolution; and though in him it was rather a profession than a desertion of his principles, (I speak tenderly of his gentleman, for when treachery is in question, I think we should make al­lowances for a Scotchman), yet we have seen him in the House of Commons overwhelmed with confusion, and almost bereft of his faculties.—But in truth, Sir, I have left no room for an accommodation with the piety of St. James's. My essences are not to be redeemed by recantation or repentance. On one side, our warmest patriots would disclaim me as a burden to their honest ambition. On the other, the vilest [Page 186]prostitution, if Junius could descend to it. would lose its na­tural merit and influence in the cabinet, and treachery be no longer a recommendation so the royal favour.

The persons who, till within these few years, have been most distinguished by their zeal for high-church and preroga­tive. are now, it seems, the great assertors of the privileges of the House of Commons. This sudden alteration of their sentiments or language carries with it a suspicious appearance. When I hear the undefined privileges of the popular branch of the legislature exalted by tories and jacobites, at the ex­pence of those strict rights, which are known to the subject, and limited by the laws, I cannot but suspect, that subject, chievous scheme is in agitation, to destroy both law and pri­vilege, by opposing them to each other. They who have uniformly denied the power of the whole legislature to alter the descent of the crown, and whose ancestors, in rebellion against his Majesty's family, have defended that doctrine at the hazard of their lives, now tell us, that privilege of Par­liament is the only rule of right, and the chief security of the public freedom.—I fear, Sir, that while forms remain, there has been some material change in the substance of our constitution. The opinions of these men were too absurd to be so easily renounced. Liberal minds are open to convic­tion.—Liberal doctrines are capable of improvement.—There are proselytes from atheism, but none from superstition.— If their present professions were sincere, I think they could not but be highly offended at seeing a question, concerning parliamentary privilege, unnecessarily started at a season so unfavourable to the House of Commons, and by so very mean and insignificant a person as the minor Onslow. They knew, that the present House of Commons, having commenced hos­tilities with the people, and degraded the authority of the laws by their own example, were likely enough to be resisted per fas et nefas. If they were really friends to privilege, they would have thought the question of right too dangerous to be hazarded at this season, and, without the formality of a convention, would have left it undecided.

I have been silent hitherto; though not from that shame­ful indifference about the interests of society which too many of us prosess, and call moderation. I confess, Sir, that I felt the prejudices of my education, in favour of a House of Commons, still hanging about me. I thought that a ques­tion, [Page 187]between law and privilege, could never he brought to a formal decision, without inconvenience to the public ser­vice, or a manifest dimiration of legal liberty;—that it ought therefore to be canfully avoided: and when I saw that the violence of the House of Commons had carried them too far to retreat, I determined not to deliver a hasty opini­on upon a matter of so much delicacy and importance.

The state of things is much altered in this country since it was necessary to protect our representatives against the direct power of the crown. We have nothings to apprehend from prerogative, but every thing from undue influence. Former­ly it was the interest of the people, that the privileges of Parliament should be left unlimited and undefined. At pre­sent, it is not only their interest, but I hold it to he effenti­ally necessary to the preservation of the constitution, that the privileges of Parliament should be strictly ascertained, and confined whithin the narrowest bounds the nature of their institution will admit of. Upon the same principle on which I would have resisted prerogative in the last century, I now resist privilege. It is indifferent to me, whether the crown, by its own immediate act, imposes new, and dispenses with old laws; or whether are same arbitrary power produces the same effects through the medium of the House of Commons. We trusted our representatives with privileges for their own defence and ours. We cannot hinder their desertion, but we can prevent their carrying over their arms to the service of the enemy. It will be said, that I begin with endeavouring to reduce the argument concerning privilege to a mere ques­tion of convenience;—that I deny at one moment what I would allow at another; and that to resist the power of a pros­tituted House of Commons, may establish a precedent inju­rious to all future Parliaments.—To this I answer generally, that human affairs are in no instance governed by strict posi­tive right. If change of circumstances were to have no weight in directing our conduct and opinions, the mutual intercourse of mankind would be nothing more than a contention be­tween positive and equitable right. Society would be a state of war, and law itself would be injustice. On this general ground, it is highly reasonable that the degree of our submissi­on to privileges which have never been defined by any positive law, should be considered as a question of convenience, and proportioned to the confidence we repose in the integrity of [Page 188]our representatives. As to the injury we may do to any fu­ture and more respectable House of Commons, I own I am not now sanguine enough to expect a more plentiful harvest of plarliamentary virtue in one year than another. Our po­litical climate is severely altered; and without dwelling upon the depravity of modern times, I think no reasonable man will expect, that, as human nature is constituted, the enormous in [...]luence of the crown should cease to prevail over the vir­tue of individuals. The mischief lies too deep to be cared by any remedy, less than some great convulsion, which may either carry back the constitution to its original principles, or utterly destroy it. I do not doubt, that, in the first ses­sion after the next election, some popular measures may be adopted. The present House of Commons have injured them­selves by a too early and public profession of their principles; and if a strain of prostitution, which had no example, were within the reach of emulation, it might be imprudent to hazard the experiment too soon. But, after all, Sir, it is very immaterial whether a House of Commons shall preserve their virtue for a week, a month, or a year. The influence, which makes a septennial Parliament dependent upon the pleasure of the crown, has a permanent operation, and can­not fail of success.—My premises, I know, will be denied in argument; but every man's conscience tells him they are true. It remains then to be considered, whether it be for the interest of the people, that privilege of Parliament (which ^*, in respect to the purposes for which it has hitherto been ac­quiesced under, is merely nominal) should be contracted with­in some certain limits? or whether the subject shall be left at the mercy of a power, arbitrary upon the face of it, and no­toriously under the direction of the crown?

I do not mean to decline the question of right: on the con­trary, Sir, I join issue with the advocates for privilege; and affirm, that, ‘excepting the cases wherein the House of [Page 189] “Commons are a court of judicature, (to which, from the nature of their office, a coercive power must belong), and excepting such contempts as immediately interrupt their proceedings, they have no legal authority to imprison any ”man for any supposed violation of privilege whatsoever.’— It is not pretended, that privilege, as now claimed, has ever been defined or confirmed by statute; neither can it be said, with any colour of truth, to be a part of the common law of England, which had grown into prescription long before we knew any thing of the existence of a House of Commons. As for the law of Parliament, it is only another name for the privilege in question; and since the power of creating new privileges has been formerly renounced by both houses,— since there is no code in which we can study the law of Par­liament, we have but one way left to make ourselves acquaint­ed with it,—that is, to compare the nature of the institution of a House of Commons with the facts upon record. To establish a claim of privilege in either house, and to distin­guish original right from usurpation, it must appear, that it is indispensably necessary for the performance of the duty they are employed in, and also that it has been uniformly al­lowed. From the first part of this description, it follows clearly, that whatever privilege does of right belong to the present House of Commons, did equally belong to the first assembly of their predecessors; was as completely vested in them, and might have been exercised in the same extent. From the second, we must infer, that privileges, which for several centuries were not only never allowed, but never even claimed by the House of Commons, must be founded upon usurpation. The constitutional duties of a House of Commons are not very complicated nor mysterious. They are to propose or assent to wholesome laws for the benefit of the nation. They are to grant the necessary aids to the King; petition for the redress of grievances; and prosecute treason or high crimes against the state. If unlimited privi­lege be necessary to the performance of these duties, we have reason to conclude, that, for many centuries after the insti­tution of the House of Commons, they were never perform­ed. I am not bound to prove a negative; but I appeal to the English history, when I affirm, that, with the exceptions already stated, (which yet I might safely relinquish), there is to precedent from the year 1205 to the death of Queen Eli­zabeth, [Page 190]of the House of Commons having imprisoned any man (not a member of their house) for contempt or head of privilege. In the most flagrant cases, and when their ac­knowledged privileges were most grossly violated, the p [...] Commons, as they then styled themselves, never took the pow­er of punishment into their own hands. They either sought redress by petition to the King, or, what is more remarka­ble, applied for justice to the House of Lords; and when satisfaction was denied them or delayed, their only remedy was to refuse proceeding upon, the King's business. So little conception had our ancestors of the monstrous doctrines now maintained concerning privilege, that, in the reign of Eli­zabeth, even liberty of speech, the vital principle of a deli­berate assembly, was restrained by the Queen's authority to a simple aye or [...]; and this restriction though imposed up­on three successive Parliaments ^*, was never once disputed by the House of Commons.

I know there are many precedents of arbitrary commit­ments for contempt: but, besides that they are of too mo­dern a date to warrant a presumption that such a power was originally vested in the House of Commons.— Fact alone does not constitute Right.—If it does, general warrants were lawful.—An ordinance of the two houses has a force equal to law; and the criminal jurisdiction assumed by the com­mons in 1621, in the case of Edward Lloyd, is a good pre­cedent to warrant the like proceedings against any man, who shall undavisedly mention the folly of a King, or the [...]i [...]b [...] ­tion of a Princess—The truth is, Sir, that the greatest and most exceptionable part of the privileges now contended for, were introduced and asserted by a House of Commons which abolished both monarchy and peerage, and whose proceed­ings, although they ended in one glorious act of substantial justice, could no way be reconciled to the forms of the con­stitution. Their successors profited by the example, and con­firmed their power by a moderate or a proper use of it. Thus it grew by degrees, from a notorious innovation at one pe­riod, to be tacitly admitted as the privilege of Parliament at another.

If, however, it could be proved, from considerations of necessity or convenience, that an unlimited power of com­mitment [Page 191]ought to be intrusted to the House of Commons, and that in fact they have exercised it without opposition, [...] in contemplation of law, the presumption is strongly against them. It is leading maxim of the laws of England, (and without it all laws are nugatory), that there is no right without remedy, nor any legal power without a legal course to carry it into effect. Let the power now in question be mind by this rule. The speaker issues his warrant of attachment. The party attached either resists force with force, or appeals to a magistrate, who declares the warrant il­legal, and discharges the prisoner. Does the law pro­ride no legal means for enforcing a legal warrant? Is there to regular proceeding pointed out in our law-books to affect and vindicate the authority of so high a court as the House of Commons? The question is answered directly by the fact. Their unlawful commands are resisted, and they have no re­medy. The imprisonment of their own members is revenge indeed, but it is no assertion of the privilege they contend for ^*. Their whole proceeding stops; and there they stand, asham­ed to retreat, and unable to advance. Sir, these ignorant men should be informed, that the execution of the laws of England is not less in this on certain defenceless condition. If the process of the courts of Westminster-hall be resisted, they have a direct course sufficient to enforce submission. The court of King's-benth commands the sheriff to raise the posse comitat [...]. The courts of Chancery and Exchequer issue a writ of rebellion; which must also be supported, if necessa­ry, by the power of the county.—To whom will our honest representatives direct their writ of rebellion? The guards, I doubt not, are willing enough to be employed; but they know nothing of the doctrine of writs, and may think it necessary to wait for a letter from Lord Barrington.

It may now be objected to me, that my arguments prove too much: for that certainly there may be instances of con­tempt and insult to the House of Commons, which do not fall within my own exceptions; yet, in regard to the digni­ty of the house, ought not to pass unpunished. Be it so.— The courts of criminal jurisdiction are open [...]o prosecutions, [Page 192]which the Attorney-general may commence by information or indictment. A libel, tending to asperse or vilify the House of Commons, or any of their members, may be as severely punished in the court of King's-bench as a libel upon the King Mr. de Grey thought so, when he drew up the information upon my letter to his Majesty, or he had to meaning in charging it to be a scandalous libel upon the House of Commons. In my opinion they would consult their real dignity much better, by appealing to the laws when they are offended, than by violating the first principle of natural justice, which forbids us to be judges when we are parties to the cause ^*.

I do not mean to pursue them through the remainder of their proceedings. In their first resolutions, it is possible they might have been deceived by ill-considered precedents. For the rest, there is no colour of palliation or excuse. They have advised the King to assume a power of dispensing with the laws by royal proclamation ^†; and Kings, we see, are ready enough to follow such advice.—By mere violence, and without the shadow of right, they have expunged the record of a judicial proceeding ^‡. Nothing remained, but to attri­bute to their own vote a power of stopping the whole distri­bution of criminal and civil justice.

The public virtues of the chief magistrate have long since ceased to be in question. But it is said, that he has private [Page 193]good qualities; and I myself have been ready to acknow­ledge them. They are now brought to the test. If he loves his people, he will dissolve a Parliament which they can ne­ver confide in or respect.—If he has any regard for his own honour, he will disdain to be any longer connected with such abandoned prostitution. But, if it were conceivable, that a King of this country had lost all sense of personal honour, and all concern for the welfare of his subjects, I consess, Sir, I should be contented to renounce the forms of the constitu­tion once more, if there were no other way to obtain sub­tansial justice for the people. ^*.

LETTER XLV. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THEY who object to detached parts of Junius's last letter, either do not mean him fairly, or have not considered the general scope and course of his argument.—There are [Page 194]degrees in all the private vices:—Why not in public prosti­tution? The influence of the crown naturally makes a sep­tennial Parliament dependent.—Does it follow that every House of Commons will plunge at once into the lowest depths of prostitution?—Junius supposes, that the present House of Commons, in going such enormous lengths, have been im­prudent to themselves, as well as wicked to the public;—that their example is not within the reach of emulation;—and that, in the firs session after the next election, some popular mea­sures may probably be adopted. He does not expect that a dissolution of Parliament will destroy corruption, but that at least it will be a check and terror to their successors, who will have seen, that, in flagrant cases, their constituents can and will interpose with effect.—After all, Sir, will you not endeavour to remove or alleviate the most dangerous symp­toms, because you cannot eradicate the disease? Will you not punish treason or parrieide, because the sight of a gibbet does not prevent highway robberies? When the main argu­ment of Junius is admitted to be unanswerable, I think it would become the minor critic, who hunts for blemishes, to be a little more distrustful of his own sagacity.—The other objection is hardly worth an answer. When Junius observes, that Kings are ready enough to follow such advice, he does not mean to insinuate, that if the advice of Parliament were good, the King would be so ready to follow it.

LETTER XLVI. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVER­TISIR.

VERY early in the debate upon the decision of the Mid­dlesex election, it was well observed by Junius, that the House of Commons had not only exceeded their boasted precedent of the expuision and subsequent incapacitation of Mr. Walpole, but that they had not even adhered to it strict­ly as far as it went. After convicting Mr. Dyson of giving a false quotation from the journals, and having explained the [Page 195]purpose which that contemptible fraud was intended to answer, be proceeds to state the vote itself by which Mr. Walpole's supposed incapacity was declared,—his. ‘ [...]esolved, That “Robert Walpole, Esq having been this session of Parlia­ment committed a prisoner to the Tower, and expelled this house for a high breach of trust in the execution of his office, and notorious corruption when secretary at war, was, and is, incapable of being elected a member to serve ”in this present Parliament:’—And then observes, that, from the terms of the vote, we have no right to annex the in­capacitation to the expulsion only; for that, as the proposition stands, it must arise equally from the expulsion and the com­mitment to the Tower. I believe, Sir, no man, who knows any thing of dialectics, or who understands English, will dis­pate the truth and fairness of this construction. But Junius has a great authority to support him; which, to speak with the Duke of Grafton, I accidentally met with this morning in the course of my reading. It contain an admonition, which cannot be repeated too often. Lord Sommers, in his excellent Tract upon the Rights of the People, after reciting the rotes of the convention of the [...]th of January 1689. viz.— ‘That King James the Second, having endeavoured “to subvert the constitution of this kingdom, by breaking the advice of Jesuits and other wicked persons, having vi­olated the laws, and having withdrawn himself out of this ”kingdom, hath abdicated the government,’ &c.—makes this observation upon it: ‘The word abdicated relates to “ all the clauses aforegoing, as well as to his deserting the ”kingdom, or else they would have been wholly in vain.’ And, that there might be no pretence for confining the abdi­cation merely to the withdrawing. Lord Sommers farther ob­serves, That King James, by [...] to govern us according to that law by which h [...] hill the citizen, did implicitly renounce his [...] it.

If Junius's construe on of the vote against Mr. Walpole be now admitted, (and indeed I cannot comprehend how it can honestly be disputed, the advocates of the House of Com­mons must either give up their precedent entirely, or be reduced to the necessity of maintaining one of the grossest absurdities imaginable, viz. ‘That a commitment to the Tower is a [Page 196] “constituent part of, and contributes half at least to, the in­capacitation ”of the person who suffers it.’

I need not make you any excuse for endeavouring to keep alive the attention of the public to the decision of the Mid­dlesex election. The more I consider it, the more I am con­vinced, that, as a fact, it is indeed highly injurious to the rights of the people; but that, as a precedent, it is one of the most dangerous that ever was established against these who are to come after us. Yet I am so far a moderate man, that I verily believe the majority of the House of Commons, when they passed this dangerous vote, neither understood the question, not knew the consequence of what they were doing. Their motives were rather despicable, than criminal in the extreme. One effect they certainly did not foresee. They are now reduced to such a situation, that if a member of the present House of Commons were to conduct himself ever so im­properly, and in reality deserve to be sent back to his con­stitutents with a mark of disgrace, they would not dare to expel him; because they know that the people, in order to try again the great question of right, or to thwart an odious House of Commons, would probably overlook his immediate unworthiness, and return the same person to Parliament. But, in time, the precedent will gain strength. A future House of Commons will have no such apprehendsions, conse­quently will not scruple to follow a precedent which they did not establish. The miser himself seldom lives to enjoy the fruit of his extortion; but his heir succeeds to him of course, and takes possession without censure. No man expects him to make restitution; and, no matter for his title, he lives quietly upon the estate.

LETTER XLVII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I Confess my partiality to Junius, and feel a considerable pleasure in being able to communicate any thing to the public in support of his opinions. The doctrine land down [Page 197]in his last letter, concerning the power of the House of Com­mons to commit for contempt, is not so new as it appeared to many people; who, dazzled with the name of privilege, had never suffered themselves to examine the question fairly. In the course of my reading this morning, I met with the fol­lowing passage in the Journals of the House of Commons, (Vol. I. page 603.) Upon occasion of a jurisdiction unlaw­fully assumed by the House in the year 1621 l Mr. Attorney General Neye gave his opinion as follows: ‘No doubt but, “in some cases, this House may give judgment;—in mat­ters of returns, and concerning members of our house, or falling out in our view in Parliament: but, for foreign matters, knoweth not how he can judge it.—Knoweth not that we have been used to give judgment in any case, but ”those before mentioned.’

Sir Edward Coke, upon the same subject, says, (page 604.) ‘“No question but this is a house of record, and that it hath power of judicature in some cases;—have power to judge of returns and members of our house: one, no member, offending out of the Parliament, when he came hither and ”justified it, was censured for it.’

Now, Sir, if you will compare the opinion of these great sages of the law with Junius's doctrine, you will find they tally exactly.—He allows the power of the house to commit their own members; (which however they may grossly abuse:) He allows their power in cases where they are acting as a court of judicature, viz. elections, returns, &c.:—And he allows it in such contempts as immediately interrupt their proceed­ings; or, as Mr. Noye expresses it, falling out in their view in Parliament.

They who would carry the privileges of Parliament farther than Junius, either do not mean well to the public, or know not what they are doing. The government of England is a government of law. We betray ourselves, we contradict the spirit of our laws, and we shake the whole system of English jurisprudence, when we intrust a discretionary power over the life, liberty, or fortune of the subject, to any man or set of men whatsoever, upon a presumption that it will not be abu­sed.

LETTER XLVIII. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

ANY man, who takes the trouble of perusing the jour­nals of the House of Commons, will soon be convinced that very little, if any regard at all, ought to be paid to the resolutions of one branch of the legislature, declaratory of the law of the land, or even of what they call the law of Parli­ament. It will appear that these resolutions have no one of the properties, by which, in this country particularly, law is distinguished from mere will and pleasure; but that, on the contrary, they bear every mark of a power arbitrarily assum­ed, and capriciously applied:—That they are usually made in times of contest, and to serve some unworthy purpose of passion or party;—that the law is seldom declared until after the fact by which it is supposed to be violated;—that legis­lation and jurisdiction are united in the same persons, and exercised a the [...] moment;—and that a court, from which there is no appeal, assumes an original jurisdiction in a cri­minal case: in short, Sir, to collect a thousand absurdities into one mass, ‘we have a law, which cannot be known be­cause “it is ex post facts; the party is both legislator and ”judge, and the jurisdiction is without appeal.’ Well might the judge say, The law of Parliament is above us.

You will not wonder, Sir, that, with these qualifications, the declaratory resolutions of the House of Commons should appear to be in perpetual contradiction, not only to common sense and to the laws we are acquainted with, (and which a­lone we can obey), but even to one another. I was lead to trouble you with these observations by a passage, which, to speak in lutestring, I met with this morning in the course of my reading, and upon which I mean to put a question to the ad­vocates for privilege.—On the 8th of March 1704, ( vide journals, Vol. XIV. p. 565.) the house thought proper to come to the following resolutions.—1. ‘That no common­er “of England, committed by the House of Commons for breach of privilege, or contempt of that house, ought to be, by any writ of Habeas Corpus, made to appear in any [Page 199]other place, or before any other judicature, during that session of Parliament, wherein such person was so com­mitted.”’

2. ‘“That the serjeant at arms, attending this house, do make no return of, or yield any obedience to the said writs of Habeas Corpus; and, for such his refusal, that he ”have the protection of the House of Commons ^*.’

Welbore Ellis, what say you? Is this the law of Parlia­ment, or is it not? I am a plain man, Sir, and cannot fol­low you through the phlegmatic forms of an oration. Speak out, Grildrig; say yes, or no.—If you say yes, I shall then inquire by what authority Mr. De Grey, the honest Lord Mansfield, and the Barons of the Exchequer, dared to grant a writ of Habeas Corpus for bringing the bodies of the Lord Mayor and Mr. Oliver before them; and why the Lieute­nant of the Tower made any return to a writ, which the House of Commons had, in a similar instance, declared to be unlawful.—If you say us, take care you do not at once give up the cause in support of which you have so long and so laboriously tortured your understanding. Take care you do not confess that there is no test by which we can distin­guish, —no evidence by which we can determine, what is, and what is not, the law of Parliament. The resolutions I have quoted stand upon your journals, uncontroverted, and unrepealed:—they contain a declaration of the law of Parli­ament by a court competent to the question, and whose deci­sion, as you and Lord Mansfield say, must be law, because there is no appeal from it; and [...] were made, not hastily, but after long deliberation upon a constitutional question.— What farther sanction or solemnity will you annex to any resolution of the present House of Commons beyond what appears upon the face of those two resolutions, the legality [Page 200]of which you now deny? If you say that Parliaments are not infallible; and that Queen Anne, in consequence of the vio­lent proceedings of that House of Commons, was obliged to prorogue and dissolve them; I shall agree with you very heartily, and think that the precedent ought to be followed immediately. But you, Mr. Ellis, who hold this language, are inconsistent with your own principles. You have hitherto maintained, that the House of Commons are the sole judges of their own privileges, and that their declaration does i [...] facto constitute the law of Parliament: yet now you confess that Parliaments are fallible, and that their resolutions may be illegal; consequently that their resolutions do not constitute the law of Parliament. When the King was urged to dis­solve the present Parliament, you advised him to tell his sub­jects, that he was careful not to assume any of those powers which the constitution bed placed in other bands, &c. Yet Queen Anne, it seems, was justified in exerting her prerogative to stop a House of Commons, whose proceedings, compared with those of the assembly of which you are a most worthy mem­ber, were the perfection of justice and reason.

In what a labyrinth of nonsense does a man involve him­self, who labours to maintain falsehood by argument? How much better would it become the dignity of the House of Commons to speak plainly to the people, and tell us at once, that their will must be obeyed, not because it is lawful and rea­sonable, but because it is their will? Their constituents would have a better opinion of their candour, and, I promise you, not a worse opinion of their integrity.

LETTER XLIX. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

THE profound respect I bear to the gracious Prince who governs this country with no less honour to himself than satisfaction to his subjects, and who restores you to your rank under his standard, will save you from a multitude of reproaches. The attention I should have paid to your fail­ings [Page 201]is involuntarily attracted to the hand that rewards them, and though I am not so partial to the royal judgment, as to affirm, that the favour of a King can remove mountains of infamy, it serves to lessen at least, for undoubtedly it divides the burden. While I remember how much is due to his sa­cred character, I cannot, with any decent appearance of propriety, call you the meanest and the basest fellow in the kingdom. I protest, my Lord, I do not think you so. You will have a dangerous rival in that kind of fame to which you have hitherto so happily directed your ambition, as long [...] there is one man living who thinks you worthy of his con­ [...]ce, and sit to be trusted with any share in his govern­ment. I confess you have great intrinsic merit; but take one you do not value it too highly. Consider how much of it would have been lost to the world, if the King had not gra­ciously ass [...]ed his stamp, and given it currency among his subjects. If it be true that a virtuous man, struggling with adversity, be a scene worthy of the gods, the glorious con­tention between you and the best of Princes deserves a circle equally attentive and respectable: I think I already see other gods rising from the earth to behold it.

But this language is too mild for the occasion. The King is determined that your abilities shall not be lost to society. The perpetration and description of new crimes will find employment for as both. My Lord, if the persons who have been loudest in their professions of patriotism, had done their duty to the public with the same zeal and perseverance that I did, I will not assert that government would have recover­ed its dignity, but at least our gracious Sovereign must have spared his subjects this last insult ^*; which, if there be any feeling left among us, they will resent more than even the real injuries they received from every measure of your Grace's administration. In vain would he have looked round him for another character so consummate as yours. Lord Mansfield shrinks from him principles:—his ideas of govern­ment perhaps go farther than your own, but his heart dis­graces the theory of his understanding.—Charles Fox is yet in blossom; and as for Mr. Wedderburne, there is something about him which even treachery cannot trust. For the pre­sent, therefore, the best of Princes must have contented him­self with Lord Sandwich.—You would long since have re­ceived [Page 202]your final dismission and reward; and I, my Lord, who do not esteem you the more for the high office you pos­sess, would willingly have followed you to your retirement. There is surely something singularly benevolent in the cha­racter of our Sovereign. From the moment he ascended the throne, there is no crime, of which human nature is capa­ble, (and I call upon the recorder to witness it). that has not appeared venial in his sight. With any other Prince, the shameful desertion of him in the midst of that distress which you alone had created,—in the very crisis of danger, when be fancied he saw the throne already surrounded by men of virtue and abilities, would have outweighed the memory of your former services. But his Majesty is full of justice and understands the doctrine of compensations. He remembers with gratitude how soon you had accommodated your mo­rals to the necessity of his service;—how cheerfully you had abandoned the engagements of private friendship, and renounced the most solemn professions to the public. The sacrifice of Lord Chatham was not lost upon him. Even the cowardice and perfidy of deserting him, may have done you no disservice in his esteem. The instance was painful, but the principle might please.

You did not neglect the magistrate, while you flattered the man. The expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, predetermined in the cabinet;—the power of depriving the subject of his birth-right, attributed to a resolution of one branch of the legisla­ture;—the constitution impudently invaded by the House of Commons;—the right of defending it, treacherously renoun­ced by the House of Lords:—these are the strokes, my Lord, which, in the present reign, recommend to office, and con­stitute a minister. They would have determined your Sove­reign's judgment, if they had made no impression upon his heart. We need not look for any other species of merit to account for his taking the earliest opportunity to recal you to his councils. Yet you have other merit in abundance.—Mr. Hine,—the Duke of Portland,—and Mr. Yorke:—Breach of trust, robbery, and murder. You would think it a com­pliment to your gallantry, if I added rape to the catalogue;— but the style of your amours secures you from resistance. I know how well these several charges have been defended. In the first instance, the breach of trust is supposed to have been its own reward. Mr. Bradshaw affirms upon his honour, [Page 203](and so may the gift of smiling never depart from him!) that you reserved no part of Mr. Hine's purchase-money for your own use, but that every shilling of it was scrupulously paid to Governor Burgoyne.—Make haste, my Lord;—another patent, applied in time, may keep the OAKS ^* in the fami­ly. —If not, Burham-Wood, I fear, must come to the Me­ [...]i.

The Duke of Portland was in life your earliest friend. In defence of his property he had nothing to plead but equity against Sir James Lowther, and prescription against the crown. You felt for your friend; but th [...] law must take its course. Pos­terity will scarce believe that Lord Bute's son-in-law had bare­ly interest enough at the treasury to get his grant completed before the general election ^†.

Enough has been said of that detestable transaction which ended in the death of Mr. Yorke;—I cannot speak of it with­out horror and compassion. To excuse yourself, you pub­licly impeach your accomplice; and to his mind perhaps the accusation may be flattery. But in murder you are both prin­cipals. It was once a question of emulation; and, if the event had not disappointed the immediate schemes of the clo­set, it might still have been a hopeful subject of jest and mer­riment between you.

This letter, my Lord, is only a preface to my future cor­respondence. The remainder of the summer shall be dedica­ted to your amusement. I mean now and then to relieve the severity of your morning studies, and to prepare you for the business of the day. Without pretending to more than Mr. Bradshaw's sincerity, you may rely upon my attachment as long as you are in office.

Will your Grace forgive me, if I venture to express some anxiety for a man whom I know you do not love? My Lord Weymouth has cowardice to plead, and a desertion of lat­er date than your own. You know the privy-seal was in­tended for him: and, if you consider the dignity of the post he deserted, you will hardly think it decent to quarter him on Mr. Righy. Yet he must have bread, my Lord;—or [Page 204]rather he must have wine. If you deny him the cup, there will be no keeping him within the pale of the ministry.

LETTER L. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

THE influence of your Grace's fortune [...] seems to pre­side over the treasury.—The genius of Mr. Bradshaw inspires Mr. Robinson ^*. How remarkable it is, (and I speak of it not [...] matter of reproach, but as something pecu­liar to your character), that you have never yet formed a friendship which has not been fatal to the object of it; nor adopted a cause, to which, one way or other, you have not done mischief! Your attachment is infamy while it lasts; and, whichever way it turns, leaves ruin and disgrace behind it. The deluded girl who yields to such a profligate even while he is constant, forfeits her reputation as well as her innocence, and finds herself abandoned at last to misery and shame.— Thus it happened with the best of Princes. Poor Dingley too!—I protect I hardly know which of th [...] we ought most to lament;—the unhappy man who sinks under the sense of his dishonour, or him who survives it. Characters, so fi­nished. are placed beyond the reach of [...]. Death has fixed his seal upon Dingley; and you, my Lord, have set your mark upon the other.

The only letter I ever addressed to the King was so un­kindly received, that I believe I shall never presume to trou­ble his Majesty in that way again. But my zeal for his ser­vice is superior to neglect; and, like Mr. Wilkes's patriot­ism, thrives by [...]. Yet his Mainly is much ad­dicted to useful tending; and, if I am not ill informed, has honoured the [...] with particular attention. I have endeavoured therefore, and not without success, (as [Page 205]perhaps you may remember,) to furnish it with such inte­resting and edifying intelligence, as probably would not reach him through any other channel. The services you have done the nation,—your integrity in office, and signal fidelity to your approved good Master, have been faithfully recorded. Nor have his own virtues been entirely neglected. These letters, my Lord, are read in other countries and in other languages; and I think I may affirm without vanity, that the gracious character of the best of Princes, is by this time not only perfectly known to his subjects, but tolerably well understood by the rest of Europe, In this respect alone I have the advantage of Mr. Whitehead. His plan I think, is too narrow. He seems to manufacture his verses for the sole use of the hero who is supposed to be the subject of them: and, that his meaning may not be exported in foreign bot­toms, sets all translation at defiance.

Your Grace's re-appointment to a seat in the cabinet, was announced to the public by the ominous return of Lord Bate to this country. When that noxious planet approaches Eng­land, he never fails to bring plague and pestilence along with him. The King already feels the malignant effect of your influence over his councils. Your former administration made Mr. Wilkes an alderman of London, and represtenta­tive of Middlesex. Your next appearance in office is marked with his election to the shrievalty. In whatever measure you are concerned, you are not only disappointed of success, but always contrive to make the government of the best of Prin­ces contemptible in his own eyes, and ridiculous to the whole world. Making all due allowance for the effect of the mi­nister's declared interposition, Mr. Robinson's activity, and Mr. Horne's new zeal in support of administration, we still want the genius of the Duke of Grafton to account for com­mitting the whole interest of government in the city to the conduct of Mr. Harley. I will not bear hard upon your faith­ful friend and emissary Mr. Touchit; for I know the difficul­ties of his situation and that a few lottery tickets are of use to his oeconomy. There is a proverb concerning persons in the predicament of this gentleman, which, however, cannot be strictly applied to him: They commence dupes, and finish knaves. Now Mr. Touchit's character is uniform. I am convinced that his sentiments never depended upon his cir­cumstances, and that in the most prosperous state of his for­tune [Page 206]he was always the very man be is at present.—But was there no other person of rank and consequence in the city, whom government could confide in, but a notorious Jaco­bite? Did you imagine that the whole body of the Dissenters, that the whole Whig interest of London, would attend at the levee, and submit to the directions, of a notorious Jacobite? Was there no Whig magistrate in the city, to whom the ser­vants of George the Third could intrust the management of a business so very interesting to their Master as the election of sheriffs? Is there no room at St. James's but for Scotch­men and Jacobites? My Lord, I do not mean to question the sincerity of Mr. Harley's attachment to his Majesty's govern­ment. Since the commencement of the present reign, I have seen still greater contradictions reconciled. The principles of these worthy Jacobites are not so absurd as they have been represented. Their ideas of divine right are not so much an­nexed to the person or family, as to the political character of the Sovereign. Had there ever been an honest man among the Stuarts, his Majesty's present friends would have been Whigs upon principle. But the conversion of the best of Princes have removed their scruples. They have forgiven him the sins of his Hanoverian ancestors, and acknowledge the hand of Providence in the descent of the crown upon the head of a true Stuart. In you, my Lord, they also behold, with a kind of predilection which borders upon loyalty, the natural representative of that illustrious family. The mode of your descent from Charles the Second, is only a bar to your pretensions to the crown, and no way interrupts the re­gularity of your succession to all the virtues of the Stuarts.

The unfortunate success of the Reverend Mr. Horne's en­deavours, in support of the ministerial nomination of $words, will, I fear, obstruct his preferment. Permit me to [...] him to your Grace's protection. You will find him copiously gifted with those qualities of the heart, which usu­ally direct you in the choice of the your friendships. He too was Mr. Wilkes's friend, and as incapable as you are of the liberal resentment of a gentleman. No, my Lord—it was the solitary vindictive malice of a monk, brooding over the infirmities of his friend until he thought they quickened into public life, and feasting with a rancorous rapture upon the sordid catalogue of his distresses. Now let him go back to [Page 207]his cloister. The church is a proper retreat for him. In his principles he is already a bishop.

The mention of this man has moved me from my natural moderation. Let me return to your Grace. You are the pillow upon which I am determined to rest all my resent­ments. What idea can the best of Sovereigns form to him­self of his own government?—In what repute can he con­ceive that he stands with his people, when he sees, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that, whatever he the office, the suspicion of his favour is fatal to the candidate; and that when the party he wishes well to has the fairest prospect of success, if his royal inclination should unfortunately be dis­covered, it drops like an acid, and turns the election?

This event, among others, may perhaps contribute to open his Majesty's eyes to his real honour and interest. In spite of all your Grace's ingenuity, he may at last perceive the in­convenience of selecting, with such a curious felicity, every villain in the nation to fill the various departments of his go­vernment. Yet I should be sorry to confine him in the choice either of his footmen or his friends.

LETTER LI. FROM THE REVEREND MR. HORNE TO JUNIUS.

FARCE, Comedy, and Tragedy—Wilkes, Foore, and Junius united at the same time against one poor Parson, are fear­ful odds. The two former are only labouring in their vo­cation; and may equally plead in excuse, that their aim is a livelihood. I admit the plea for the second; his is an ho­nest calling, and my clothes were lawful game: but I cannot so readily approve Mr. Wilkes, or commend him for making patriotism a trade, and a fraudulent trade. But what shall I say to Junius? the grave, the solemn, the didactic! Ri­dicule indeed has been ridiculously called the test of truth; but surely, to confess that you lose your natural moderation when mention is made of the man, does not promise [...] truth or justice when you speak of him yourself.

You charge me with ‘a new zeal in support of administra­tion,“ ”’ and with ‘endeavours in support of the ministeri­al “ ”nomination of sheriffs.’ The reputation which your talent [...] have deservedly gained to the signature of Junius, draws from me a reply, which I disdained to give to the ano­nymous lies of Mr. Wilkes. You make frequent use of the word Gentleman; I only call myself a Man, and desire no other distinction: If you are either, you are bound to make good your charges, or to confess that you have done me a hasty injustice upon no authority.

I put the matter fairly to issue.—I say, that so far from any "new zeal in support of administration," I am possessed with the utmost abhorrence of their measures; and that I have ever shewn myself, and am still ready, in any rational man­ner, to lay down all I have—my life, in opposition to those measures. I say, that I have not, and never have had, any communication or connection of any kind, directly or indi­rectly, with any courtier or ministerial man, or any of their adherents: that I never have received, or solicited, or ex­pected, or desired, or do now hope for, any reward of any sort, from any party or set of men in administration or op­position. I say that I never used any ‘endeavours in sup­port “ ”of the ministerial nomination of sheriffs;’ that I did not solicit any one livery-man for his vote for any one of the candidates, nor employ any other person to solicit; and that I did not write one single line or word in favour of Messrs. Plumbe and Kirkman, whom I understand to have been sup­ported by the ministry.

You are bound to refute what I here advance, or to lose your credit for veracity. You must produce facts: surmise and general abuse, in however elegant language, ought not to pass for proofs. You have every advantage; and I have every disadvantage: you are unknown: I give my name. All parties, both in and out of administration, have their reasons (which I shall relate hereafter) for uniting in their wishes against me; and the popular prejudice is as strongly in your favour, as it is violent against the Parson.

Singular as my present situation is, it is neither painful, nor was it unforeseen. He is not fit for public business, who does not even at his entrance prepare his mind for such an event. Health, fortune, tranquility, and private connecti­ons, I have sacrificed upon the altar of the public; and the [Page 209]only return I receive, because I will not concur to dupe and mislead a senseless multitude, is barely, that they have not yet torn me in pieces. That this has been the only return, is my pride; and a source of more read satisfaction than ho­nours or prosperity. I can practise, before I am old, the lessons I learned in my youth; nor shall I ever forget the words of my ancient Monitor,

LETTER LII. TO THE REVEREND MR. HORNE.

I CANNOT descend to an altercation with you in the never p [...]ers: but since I have attacked your character, and you complain of injustice. I think you have some right to an ex­planation. You defy me to prove that you ever solicited a vote, or wrote a word, in support of the ministerial alder­men. It would have been impossible for Mr. Horne to [...] solicited votes, and very difficult to have written in the [...]s-papers in defence of that cause, without being detected and brought to shame. Neither do I pretend to any intelligence concerning you, or to know more of your conduct than you yourself have thought proper to communicate to the public. It is from your own letters I conclude that you have sold your­self to the ministry; or if that charge be too severe, and sup­posing it possible to be deceived by appearances so very strong­ly against you, what are your friends to say in your defence? Must they not confess, that, to gratify your [...] of Mr. Wilkes, you sacrificed, as far as depended [...] in­terest and abilities, the cause of the country? I can make al­lowance [Page 210]for the violence of the passions; and if ever I should be convinced that you had no motive but to destroy Wilkes, I shall then be ready to do justice to your character, and to declare to the world, that I despise you somewhat less than I do at present. But as a public man I must for ever con­demn you. You cannot but know,—nay you dare not pre­tend to be ignorant, that the highest gratification of which the most detestable ^*** in this nation is capable, would have been the defeat of Wilkes. I know that man much better than any of you. Nature intended him only for a good-hu­moured fool. A systematical education, with long practice, has made him a consummate hypocrite. Yet this man, to say nothing of his worthy ministers, you have most assidu­ously laboured to gratify. To exclude Wilkes, it was not necessary you should solicit votes for his opponents. We in­cline the balance as effectually by lessening the weight in one scale, as by increasing it in the other.

The mode of your attack upon Wilkes, (though I am far from thinking meanly of your abilities) convinces me, that you either want judgment extremely, or that you are blind­ed by your resentment. You ought to have foreseen, that the charges you urged against Wilkes could never do him any mischief. After all, when we expected discoveries high­ly interesting to the community, what a pitiful detail did it [...]nd in!—Some old clothes—a Welsh po [...]ey—a French foot­man, and a hamper of claret. Indeed, Mr. Horne, the pub­lic should, and will forgive him his claret and his footman, and even the ambition of making his brother chamberlain of London, as long as he stands forth against a ministry and Parliament who are doing every thing they can to enslave the country, and as long as he is a thorn in the King's side. You will not suspect me as setting up Wilkes for a perfect character. The question to the public is, Where shall we find a man, who, with purer principles, will go the lengths and run the hazards that he has done? The season calls for such a man, and he ought to be supported. What would have been the triumph of that odious hypocrite and his mi­nions, if Wilkes had been not enjoy it completely.—But now, I promise you, you have so little power to do mischief, that I much question whether the ministry will adhere to the promises they have made you. It will be in vain to say [Page 211]that I am a partizan of Mr. Wilkes, or personally your ene­my. You will convince no man, for you do not believe it yourself. Yet I confess I am a little offended at the low rate at which you seem to value my understanding. I beg, Mr. Horne, you will hereafter believe, that I measure the integrity of men by their conduct, not by their professions. Such takes may entertain Mr. Oliver, or your grandmother; but, trust me, they are thrown away upon Junius.

You say you are a man. Was it generous, was it manly, repeatedly to introduce into a newspaper the name of a young lady with whom you must heretofore have lived on terms of politeness and good humour?—But I have done with you. In my opinion, your credit is irrecoverably ruined. Mr. [...], I think, is nearly in the same predicament. Poor Oliver has been shamefully duped by you. You have made him sacrifice all the humour he got by his imprison­ment. As for Mr. Sawbridge, whose character I really res­pect, I am astonished he does not see through your duplicity. Never was so base a design so poorly conducted.—This let­ter, you see, is not intended for the public; but if you think it will do you any service, you are at liberty to publish it.

LETTER LIII. FROM THE REVEREND MR. HORNE TO JUNIUS.

YOU have disappointed me. When I told you that sur­mise and general abuse, in however elegant language, ought not to pass for proofs, I evidently hinted at the reply which I expected: but you have dropped your usual ele­gance, and seem willing to try what will be the effect of sur­mise and general abuse in very coarse language. Your an­swer to my letter (which I hope was cool, and temperate, and modest) has convinced me, that my idea of a man is much superior to yours of a gentleman. Of your former let­ters [Page 212]I have always said, Materiem superabat opus. I do not think so of the present; the principles are more detestable than the expressions are mean and illiberal. I am contented, that all those who adopt the one, should for ever load me with the other.

I appeal to the common sense of the public, to which I have ever directed myself: I believe they have it, though I am sometimes half-inclined to suspect that Mr. Wilkes has formed a truer judgment of mankind than I have. Howe­ver, of this I am sure, that there is nothing else upon which to place a steady reliance. Trick, and low cunning, and addressing their prejudices and passions, may be the fittest means to carry a particular point; but if they have not com­mon-sense, there is no prospect of gaining for them any real permanent good. The same passions which have been art­fully used by an honest man for their advantage, may be more artfully employed by a dishonest man for their destruc­tion. I desire them to apply their common-sense to this let­ter of Junius; not for my sake, but their own: it concerns them most nearly; for the principles it contains lead to dis­grace and ruin, and are inconsistent with every notion of civil society.

The charges which Junius has brought against me, are made ridiculous by his own inconsistency and self-contradiction. He charges me positively with ‘a new zeal in support of “ ”administration;’ and with ‘endeavours in support of the “ ”ministerial nomination of sheriffs.’ And he assigns two inconsistent motives for my conduct: either that I have ‘ sold “ ”myself to the ministry,’ or am instigated ‘by the solitary “ ”vindictive malice of a monk;’ either that I am influenced by a sordid desire of gain, or am hurried on by ‘personal hatred, “ ”and blinded by resentment.’ In his letter to the Duke of Grafton, he supposes me actuated by both: in his letter to me, he at first doubts which of the two, whether interest, or revenge, is my motive. However, at last he determines for the former, and again positively asserts that ‘the ministry “ ”have made me promises:’ yet he produces no instance of corruption, nor pretends to have any intelligence of a ministe­rial connection. He mentions no cause of a personal hatred to Mr. Wilkes, nor any reason for my resentment or revenge; nor has Mr. Wilkes himself ever hinted any, though repeat­edly pressed. When Junius is called upon to justify his accu­sation, [Page 213]he answers, ‘He cannot descend to an altercation “ ”with me in the newspapers.’ Junius, who exists only in the newspapers, who acknowledges ‘he has attacked my cha­racter“ ”’ there, and thinks ‘I have some right to an ex­planation; “ ”’ yet this Junius ‘cannot descend to an alterca­tion “ ”in the newspapers!’ And because he cannot descend to an altercation with me in the newspapers, he sends a letter of abuse by the printer, which he finishes with telling me— "I am at liberty to publish it." This, to be sure, is a most excellent method to avoid an altercation in the newspapers!

The proofs of his positive charges are as extraordinary: ‘“He does not pretend to any intelligence concerning me, or to know more of my conduct than I myself have thought ”proper to communicate to the public.’ He does not suspect me of such gross folly as to have solicited votes, or to have written anonymously in the newspapers; because it is impos­sible to do either of these, without being detected and brought to shame. Junius says this!—who yet imagines that he has himself written two years [...] that signature, (and more un­der others,) without being detected!—his warmest admirers will not hereafter add, without being brought to shame. But though he did never suspect me of such gross folly as to run the hazard of being detected and brought to shame by anony­mous writing, he insists, that I have been guilty of a much grosser folly, of incurring the certainty of shame and detecti­on, by writings signed with my name! But this is a small flight for the towering Junius: ‘He is far from thinking “ ”meanly of my abilities,’ though he is ‘convinced that I “ ”want judgment extremely;’ and can ‘really respect Mr. “ ”Sawbridge's character,’ though he declares him ^* to be so [Page 214]poor a creature, as not to ‘see through the basest design “ ”conducted in the poorest manner!’ And this most base de­sign is conducted in the poorest manner, by a man whom he does not suspect of gross folly, and of whose abilities he is far from thinking meanly!

Should we ask Junius to reconcile these contradictions, and explain this nonsense, the answer is ready;— ‘He cannot de­scend “ ”to an altercation in the newspapers.’ He feels no reluctance to attack the character of any man: the throne is not too high, nor the cottage to low: his mighty malice can grasp both extremes: he hints not his accusations as opini [...], conjec [...]ur [...], or inference, but delivers them as positive asserti [...]es. Do the accused complain of injustice? He acknowledges they have some sort of right to an explanation: but if they ask for proofs and facts, he begs to be excused; and, though he is nowhere else to be encountered— ‘he cannot descend to an “ ”altercation in the newspapers.’

And this, perhaps, Junius may think ‘the liberal resent­ment of a gentleman:’ This skulking assassination he may call courage. In all things, as in this, I hope we differ.

Of two things, however, he has condescended to give proof. He very properly produces a young lady, to prove that I am not a man; and a good old woman, my grandmo­ther, to prove Mr. Oliver a fool. Poor old soul! she read her Bible far otherwise than Junius! She ofter found there, that the sins of the fathers had been visited on the children; and therefore was cautious that herself, and her immediate descendants, should leave no reproach on her posterity: and they left none. How little could she foresee this reverse of Junius, who visits my political sins upon my grandmother? I do not charge this to the score of malice in him; it pro­ceeded entirely from his propensity to plunder; that whilst he was reproaching me for introducing, in the most harmless [Page 215]manner, the name of [...] female, he might himself, at the same instant, introduce [...].

I am represented alternately, as it suits Junius's purpose, under the opposite characters of a gloomy [...], and a man of politeness and good-humour. I am called "a solitary [...]," in order to confirm the notion given of me in Mr. Wilkes's anonymous paragraphs, that I [...]ver laugh. And the terms of politeness and good-humour, on which I am said to have lived heretofore with the young lady, are intended to confirm other paragraphs of Mr. Wilkes, in which he is supposed to have offended me, by refusing his daughter. Ridiculous: Yet I cannot deny but that Junius has proved me [...] and ungenerous, as clearly as he has shewn me corrupt and [...] and I will tell him more; I have paid the present mi­nistry as many [...]sies and [...] as ever I paid to the young lady; and shall all my life, treat them with the same politeness and good-humour.

But Junius ‘begs me to believe, that he measures the “ ”integrity of men by their [...], not by their professions.’ Sure this Junius must imagine his readers as void of under­standing as he is of modesty! Where shall we find the stan­dard of His integrity? By what are we to measure the con­duct of this lurking assassin?—And he says this to me, whose conduct, wherever I could personally appear, has been as direct, and open, and public, as my words. I have not, like him, concealed myself in my cham [...]r, to shoot my ar­rows out of the window; nor contented myself to view the battle from afar; but publicly mixed in the engagement, and shared the danger. To whom have I, like him refused my name upon complaint of injury? What printer have I desired to conceal me? In the infinite variety of business in which I have been concerned, where it is not so easy to be faultless, which of my actions can he arraign? To what dan­ger has any man been exposed, which I have not faced? in­formation, action, imprisonment, or death? What labour have I refused? what expence have I declined? what pleasure have I not renounced?—But Junius, is whom [...] conduct be­ [...]gs, ‘measures the integrity of men by their conduct, not “ ”by their professions:’ himself all the while being nothing but professions, and those too anonymous! The political ignorance or wilful falsehood of this declaimer is extreme. His own former letters justify both my conduct and those whom his last [Page 216]letter abuses: for, the public measures which Junius has been all along defending, were ours whom he attacks; and the uniform opposer of those measures has been Mr. Wilkes, whose had actions and intentions he endeavours to screen.

Let Junius now, if he pleases, change his abuse; and, quit­ting his loose hold of interest and revenge, accuse me of vani­ty, and call this defence blasting. I own I have a pride to see statutes decreed, and the highest honours conferred, for measures and actions which all men have approved; whilst those who counselled and caused them are execrated and in­sulted. The darkness in which Junius thinks himself shroud­ed, has not concealed him; nor the artifice of only attacking commends by other [...]ays those he would have promoted,) dis­guised from me whose partizan he is. When Lord Chatham can forgive the awkward situation in which, for the sake of the public, he was designedly placed by the thanks to him from the city; and when Wilkes's name ceases to be necessa­ry to Lord Rockingham to keep up a clamour against the per­sons of the ministry, without obliging the different factions now in opposition to bind themselves before-hand to some certain points, and to stipulate some precise advantages to the public; then, and not till then, may those whom he now abuses expect the approbation of Junius. The approbation of the public for our faithful attention to their interest, by endeavours for those stipulations, which have made us as ob­noxious to the factions in opposition as to those in administra­tion, is not perhaps to be expected till some years hence; when the public will look back, and see how shamefully they have been deluded, and by what arts they were made to lose the golden opportunity of preventing what they will sure­ly experience,—a change of ministers, without a material change of measures, and without any security for a tottering constitution.

But what cares Junius for the security of the constitution? He has now unfolded to us his diabolical principles. As a public man, he must ever condemn any measure which may tend accidentally to gratify the Sovereign; and Mr. Wilkes is to be supported and assisted in all his attempts (no matter how ridiculous and mischievous his projects) as long as he continues to be a thorn in the King's side!—The cause of the country, it seems, in the opinioin of Junius, is merely to vex the King; [Page 217]and any rascal is to be supported in any roguery, provided he can only thereby plant a thorn in the King's side.—This is the very extremity of faction, and the last degree of political wickedness. Because Lord Chatham has been ill treated by the King, and treacherously betrayed by the Duke of Graf­ton, the latter is to be ‘the pillow on which Junius will rest “ ”his resentment:’ and the public are to oppose the measures of government from mere motives of personal enmity to the Sovereign! These are the avowed principles of the man who, in the same letter, say, ‘if ever he should be convinced “that I had no motive but to destroy Wilkes, he shall then be reader to do justice to my character, and to declare to the world, that he despises me somewhat less than he does ”at present!’ Had I ever acted from personal affection or enmity to Mr. Wilkes, I should justly be despised: but what does he deserve, whose avowed motive is personal enmity to the Sovereign? The contempt which I should otherwise feel for the absurdity and glaring inconsistency of Junius, is here swallowed up in my abhorrence of his principles. The right divine and sacredness of Kings is to me a senseless jargon. It was thought a daring expression of Oliver Cromwell in the time of Charles the First, that if he found himself placed op­posite to the King in battle, he would discharge his piece into his bosom as soon as into any other man's. I go far­ther: had I lived in those days, I would not have waited for chance to give me an opportunity of doing my duty; I would have [...]ought him through the ranks, and, without the least personal enmity, have discharged my piece into his bo­som rather than into any other man's. The King whose actions justify rebellion to his government, deserves death from the hand of every subject. And should such a time ar­rive, I shall be as free to act as to say: but, till then, my attachment to the person and family of the Sovereign shall ever be found more zealous and sincere than that of his flat­terers. I would offend the Sovereign with as much reluc­tance as the parent; but if the happiness and security of the whole family made it necessary, so far, and no farther, I would offend him without remorse.

But let us consider a little whither these principles of Junius would lead us. Should Mr. Wilkes once more com­mission Mr. Thomas Walpole to procure for him a pension of one thousand pounds upon the Irish establishment for thirty [Page 218]years, he must be supported in the demand by the public— because it would mortisy the King!

Should we wish to see Lord Rockingham and his friends once more in administration, unclogged by any slipulat [...]s for the people, that he might again enjoy a pension of one thousand and forty pounds a year, viz. from the first Lord of the Treasury 500 l. from the Lords of the Treasury 60 l. each, from the Lords of Trade 40 l. each, &c. the public must give up their attention to points of rational benefit, and assist Mr. Wilkes in his attempt—because it would mortify the King!

Should he demand the government of Canada, or of Ja­maica, or the embassy of Constantinople, and in case of refusal threaten to write them down, as he had before served ano­ther administration, in a year and a half, he must be sup­ported in his pretensions, and upheld in his insolence—be­cause it would mortify the King!

Junius may choose to suppose that these things cannot hap­pen! But that they have happened, notwithstanding Mr. Wilkes's denial, I do aver. I maintain, that Mr. Wilkes did commission Mr. Thomas Walpole to solicit for him a pension of one thousand pounds on the Irish establishment for thirty years; with which, and a pardon, he declared he would be satisfied: and that, notwithstanding his letter to Mr. On­slow, he did accept a clandestine, [...], and [...] si [...]ry pension from the Rockingham administration; which they paid in proportion to, and out of their safaries: and so en­tirely was it ministerial, that as any of them went out of the ministry, their names were scratched out of the list, and they contributed no longer. I say, he did solicit the govern­ments, and the embassy, and threatened their refusal nearly in these words— ‘It cost me a year and a half to write down “the last administration: should I employ as much time ”upon you, very few of you would be in at the death.’ When these threats did not prevail, he came over to England to embarrass them by his presence: and when he found that Lord Rockingham was something firmer and more manly than he expected, and refused to be bullied—into what he could not perform, Mr. Wilkes declared that he could not leave England without money; and the Duke of Portland and Lord Rockingham purchased his absence with one hun­dred pounds a piece, with which he returned to Paris. And for the truth of what I here advance, I appeal to the Duke [Page 219]of Portland, to Lord Rockingham, to Lord John Cavendish, to Mr. Walpole, &c.—I appeal to the hand-writing of Mr. Wilkes, which is still extant.

Should Mr. Wilkes afterwards (failing in this wholesale trade) choose to dole out his popularity by the pound, and expose the city-offices to sale to his brother, his attorney, &c. Junius will tell us, it is only an ambition that he has to make them chamberlain, t [...]n-clerk, &c. and he must not be opposed in thus robbing the ancient citizens of their birth­right —because any defeat of Mr. Wilkes would gratify the King!

Should he, after consuming the whole of his own fortune, and that of his wife, and incurring a debt of twenty thousand [...]ands, merely by his own private extravagance, without a single service or exertion all this time for the public, whilst his estate remained; should he at length, being undone, com­mence patriot, have the good fortune to be iliegally perse­cuted, and in consideration of that illegality be espoused by a few gentlemen of the purest public principles; should his debts (though none of them were contracted for the public) and all his other incumbrances be discharged; should he be­offered 600 l. or 1000 l. a year to make him independent for the future; and should he, after all, instead of gratitude for these services, insolently sorbid his benefactors to bestow their own money upon any other object but himself, and revile them for setting any bounds to their supplies; Junius (who, any more than Lord Chatham, never contributed one farthing to these enormous expences) will tell them, that if they think of converting the supplies of Mr. Wilkes's private extrava­gance to the support of public measures—they are as great fools as my grandmother; and that Mr. Wilkes ought to hold the strings of their purses— as long as be c [...]ntiunes to be a thorn in the King's side!

Upon these principles I never have acted, and I never will act. In my opinion, it is less dishonourable to be the creature of a court, than the tool of a faction. I will not be either. I understand the two great leaders of opposition to be Lord Rockingham and Lord Chatham; under one of whose banners, all the opposing members of both houses, who desire to get places, enlist. I can place no confidence in ei­ther of them, or in any others, unless they will now engage, whilst they are out, to grant certain essential advantages for [Page 220]the security of the public when they shall be in administrations. These points they refuse to stipulate, because they are fearful lest they should pre [...]eat any future overteres from the court. To force them to these stipulations, has been the uniform en­deavour of Mr. Sawbridge, Mr. Townsh [...]d, Mr. Of [...]er, &c. and therefore they are abused by Junius. I know [...] reason but my real and industry in the same cause, that should entitle me to the honour of being ranked by his abuse with persons of their sortane and flation. It is a duty I owe to the memory of the late Mr. B [...]kford to say, that he had no other [...] than this, when he provided that sampt [...]ous entertain­ment at the Mansion-house for the members of both ho [...]ses in opposition. At that time he drew up the heads of an engage­ment, which he gave to me, with a request that I would couch it in terms so cautions and precise, as to leave no room for future quibble and evasion; but to oblige them either to ful [...] the intent of the chligation, or to sign their own in­famy, and leave it on record: and this engagement he was determined to propose to them at the Mansion-house, that ei­ther by their refusal they might forfeit the confidence of the public, or by the engagement [...]ay a foundation for confidence. When they were informed of the intention, Lord Rocking­ham and his friends flatly refused any engagement; and Mr. Beckford as [...]atly future they should then—"eat none of his broth;" and he was determined to put off the entertainment: But Mr. Beckford was prevailed upon by—to indulge them in the ridiculous parade of a popular procession through the city, and to give them the foolish pleasure of an imaginary consequence, for the real benefit only of the cooks and pur­veyors.

It was the same motive which dictated the thanks of the city to Lord Chatham; which were expressed to be given for his declaration in favour of short Parliaments; in order there­by to fix Lord Chatham at least to that one constitutional re­medy, without which all others can afford no security. The embarrassment, no doubt, was cruel. He had his choice ei­ther to offend the Rockingham party, who declared formally against short Parliaments, and with the assistance of whose numbers in both blouses he must expect again to be minister; or to give up the confidence of the public, from whom finally all real consequence must proceed. Lord Chatham chose the latter: and I will venture to say, that, by his answer to those [Page 221]thanks, he has given up the people, without gaining the friendship or cordial assistance of the Rocking ham faction; whose little politics are confined to the making of matches. and extending their family-connections, and who think they gain more by procuring ore additional vote to their party in the House of Commons, than by adding their lauguid pro­perty and fe [...]ble character to the abilities of a Ch [...], or [...]e confidence of a public.

Whatever may be the event of the present wretched state of politics in this country, the principles of Junius will suit no form of government. They are not to be tolerated under any constatation. Personal enmity is a motive fit only for the devil. Whoever, or whatever, is sovereign, demands the respect and support of the people. The union is formed for their hap­piness, which cannot be had without mutual respect; and he counsels maliciously, who would persuade either to a wanton breach of it. When it is banished by either party, and when every method has been tried in vain to restore it, there is no remedy but a divorce: But even then he must have a band and a wicked heart indeed who punishes the greatest criminal mere­ly for the sake of the punishment; and who does not lot fall a [...] for every drop of blood that is shed in a public strug­gle, however just the quarrel.

LETTER LIV. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

I OUGHT to make an apology to the Duke of Grafton, for suffering any part of my attention to be diverted from his Grace to Mr. Horne. I am not justified by the sunila­rity of their dispositions. Private vi [...]s, however detestable, have not dignity sufficient to attract the [...]nsure of the press, unless they are united with the power of doing some signal mischief to the community. Mr. Horne's situation does not correspond with his intentions.—In my own opinion, (which, I know, will be attributed to any usual vanity and presump­tion) his letter to me does not deserve an answer. But I un­derstand that the public are not satisfied with my silence;— [Page 222]that an answer is expected from me; and that if I perfist in refusing to plead, it will be taken for conviction. I should be inconsistent with the principles I profess, if I declined an appeal to the good sense of the people, or did not willingly submit myself to the judgment of my peers.

If any coarse expressions have escaped me, I am ready to agree that they are unfit for Junius to make use of; but I see no reason to admit that they have been improperly ap­plied.

Mr. Horne, it seems, is unable to comprehend how an ex­treme want of conduct and discretion can consist with the abilities I have allowed him; nor can he conceive that a ve­ry honest man, with a very good understanding, may be de­ceived by a knave. His knowledge of human nature must be limited indeed. Had he never mixed with the world, one would think that even his books might have taught him bet­ter. Did he hear Lord Mansfield when he defended his doc­trine concerning libels?—or when he stated the law in pro­secutions for criminal conversation?—or when he delivered his reasons for calling the House of Lords together to re­ceive a copy of his charge to the jury in Woodfall's trial?— Had he been present upon any of these occasions, he would have seen how possible it is for a man of the first talents to confound himself in absurdities, which would disgrace the lips of an idiot. Perhaps the example might have taught him not to value his own understanding so highly.—Lord Lyttleton's integrity and judgment are unquestionable;—yet he is known to admire that cunning Scotchman, and verily believes him an honest man.—I speak to facts with which all of us are conversant.—I speak to men, and to their experi­ence; and will not descend to answer the little sneering so­phistries of a collegian.—Distinguished talents are not neces­sarily connected with discretion. If there be any thing remarkable in the character of Mr. Horne, it is, that ex­treme want of judgment should be united with his very mo­derate capacity. Yet I have not forgotten the acknowledg­ment I made him. He owes it to my bounty; and, though his letter has lowered him in my opinion, I scorn to retract the charitable donation.

I said, it would be very difficult for Mr. Horne to write directly in defence of a ministerial measure, and not be de­tected; and even that difficulty I confined to his particular [Page 223]situation. He changes the terms of the proposition, and sup­poses me to assert, that it would be imp [...]ssible for any man to write for the newspapers, and not be discovered.

He repeatedly affirms, or intimates at least, that he known the author of these letters.—With what colour of truth, then, can he pretend that I am no where to be encountered but in a [...]spaper?—I shall leave him to his suspicions. It is not accessary that I should confide in the honour or discretion of a man who already seems to hate me with as much rancour as if I had formerly been his friend.—But he asserts that he has traced me through a variety of signatures. To make the discovery of any importance to his purpose, he should have proved, either that the fictitious character of Junius has not been confistently supported, or that the author has manitained different principles under different signatures.—I cannot re­call to my memory the numberless trifles I have written;— but I rely upon the consciousness of my own integrity, and defy him to fix any colourable charge of inconsistency up­on me.

I am not bound to assign the secret motives of his appa­rent hatred of Mr. Wilkes: nor does it follow that I may not judge fairly of his conduct, though it were true that I had no conduct of my own.—Mr. Horne enlarges with rapture upon the importance of his services; the dreadful battles which he might have been engaged in, and the dangers he has escaped.—In support of the formidable description, he quotes verses without mercy. The gentleman deals in fiction, and naturally appeals to the evidence of the poets.—Taking him at his word, he cannot but admit the superiority of Mr. Wilkes in this line of service. On one side we see nothing but imaginary distresses. On the other, we see real prosecu­tions; —real penalties;—real imprisonment;—life repeatedly hazarded; and, at one moment, almost the certainty of death. Thanks are undoubtedly due to every man who does his duty in the engagement; but it is the wounded soldier who deserves the reward.

I did not mean to deny that Mr. Horne had been an active partizan. It would defeat my own purpose not to allow him a degree of merit, which aggravates his guilt. The very charge of contributing his utmost efforts to support a ministerial measure, implies an acknowledgment of his former services. If he had not once been distinguished by his apparent zeal in [Page 224]defence of the common cause, he could not now be distin­guished by deserting it.—As for myself, it is no longer a question, whether I shall [...] with the throng, and take a sin­gle shave in the danger. Whenever Junint appears, he most encounter a host of enemies. But is them no honourable way to serve the public, without engaging in personal quar­rels with insignificant individuals, or submitting to the drud­gery of can assing votes for an c [...]c [...]ion? Is there no merit in dedicating my life to the information of my fellow-sub­jects? —What public question have I declined?—What vil­lain have I spared?—Is there no labour in the composition of these letters? Mr. Horne, I fear, is partial to me, and mea­sures the facility of my writings, by the fluency of his own.

He talks to us in high terms of the gallant feats he would have performed if he had lived in the last century. The un­happy Charles could hardly have escaped him. But living princes have a claim to his attachment and respect. Upon these terms, there is no danger in being a patriot. If he means any thing more than a pompous rhapsody, let us try how well his argument holds together.—I presume he is not yet so much a courtier as to affirm that the constitution has not been grossly and daringly violated under the present reign. He will not say that the laws have not been shamefully bro­ken or perverted;—that the rights of the subject have not been invaded, or that redress has not been repeatedly solicited and refused.—Grievances like these were the foundation of the rebellion in the last century; and, if I understand Mr. Horne, they would, at that period, have justified him to his own mind in deliberately attacking the life of his Sovereign. I shall not ask him to what political constitution this doctrine can be reconciled. But at least it is incumbent upon him to shew, that the present King has better excuses than Charles the First for the errors of his government. He ought to demonstrate to us, that the constitution was better understood an hundred years ago than it is at present;—that the legal rights of the subject, and the limits of the prerogative were more accurately defined and more clearly comprehended. If propositions like these cannot he fairly maintained, I do not see how he can reconcile it to his conscience, not to act im­mediately with the same freedom with which he speaks. I reverence the character of Charles the First as little as Mr. [Page 225]Horne; but I will not insult his misfortunes by a compari­son that would degrade him.

It is worth observing, by what gentle degrees the furious, persecuting zeal of Mr. Horne has softened into moderation. Men and measures were yesterday his objects. What pains did he once take to bring that great state-criminal [...] to ex­ecution! —To-day he consines himself to measures only. No penal example is to be left to the successors of the Duke of Grafton.—To-morrow, I presume, both men and mea­sures will be forgiven. The flaming patriot, who so lately [...]orched us in the meridian, sinks temperately to the west, and is hardly felt as he descends.

I comprehend the policy of endeavoaring to communicate to Mr. Oliver and Mr. Saubridge a share in the reproaches with which he supposes me to have loaded him. My memo­ry fails me, if I have mentioned their names with disrespect; unless it be reproachful to acknowledge a fincere respect for the character of Mr. Sawbridge, and not to have questioned the innocence of Mr. Oliver's intentions.

It seems I am a partizan of the great leader of the opposi­tion. If the charge had been a reproach, it should have been better supported. I did not intend to make a public decla­ration of the respect I hear Lord Chatham. I well knew what unworthy conclusions would be drawn from it. But I am called upon to deliver my opinion; and surely it is not in the little censure of Mr. Horne to deter me from doing signal justice to a man who, I confess, has grown upon my esteem. As for the common, sordid views of avarice, or any purpose of vulgar ambition, I question whether the ap­plause of Junius would be of service to Lord Chatham. My vote will hardly recommend him to an increase of his pension, or to a seat in the cabinet. But if his ambition be upon a level with his understanding;—if he judges of what is truly honourable for himself, with the same superior genius which animates and [...]cts him to eloquence in debate, to wisdom in decision; even the pen of Junius shall contribute to re­ward him. Reco [...] honours shall gather round his monu­ment, and thicken [...] him. It is a solid fabric, and will support the laurels [...] it. I am not conversant in the language of panegyric [...]—These praises are extorted from me; but they will wear [...], for they have been dearly earned.

My detestation of the Duke of Grafto [...] is not founded up­on his treachery to any individual: though I am willing enough to suppose, that, in public affairs, it would be im­possible to desert or betray Lord Chatham, without doing an effential injury to this country. My abhorrence of the Duke arises from an intimate knowledge of his character: and from a thorough conviction that his baseness has been the cause of greater mischief to England, than even the unfor­tunate ambition of Lord Bute.

The shortening the duration of Parliaments is a subject on which Mr. Horne cannot enlarge too warmly; nor will I que­stion his sincerity. If I did not profess the same sentiments, I should be shamefully inconsistent with myself. It is un­necessary to bind Lord Chatham by the written formality of an engagement. He has publicly declared himself a convert to Triennial Parliaments; and though I have long been con­vinced, that this is the only possible resource we have loft to preserve the substantial freedom of the constitution, I do not think we have a right to determine against the integrity of Lord Rockingham or his friends. Other measures may un­doubtedly be supported in argument, as better adapted to the disorder, or more likely to be obtained.

Mr. Horne is well assured, that I never was the champion of Mr. Wilkes. But though I am not obliged to answer for the firmness of his future adherence to the principles he pro­fesses, I have no reason to presume that he will hereafter dis­grace them. As for all those imaginary cases which Mr. Horne so petulantly urges against me, I have one plain, ho­nest answer to make him.—Whenever Mr. Wilkes shall be convicted of soliciting a pension, an embassy, or a govern­ment, he must depart from that situation, and renounce that character, which he assumes at present, and which, in my opinion, entitle him to the support of the public. By the same act, and at the same moment, he will forfeit his power of mortifying the King; and though he can never be a fa­vourite at St. James's, his baseness may administer a solid satisfaction to the royal mind. The man I speak of has not a heart to feel for the frailties of his fellow-creatures. It is their virtues that afflict, it is their vices that console, him.

I give every possible advantage to Mr. Horne, when I take the facts he refers to for granted. That they are the pro­duce of his invention, seems highly probable; that they are [Page 227]exaggerated, I have no doubt. At the worst, what do they amount to, but that Mr. Wilkes, who never was thought of as a perf [...]ct pattern of morality, has not been at all times proof against the extremity of distress? How shameful is it, in a man who has lived in friendship with him, to reproach him with failings too naturally connected with despair! Is no allowance to be made for banishment and ruin? Does a two years imprisonment make no atonement for his crimes? The resentment of a priest is implacable. No sufferings can soften, no penitence can appease, him.—Yet he himself, I think, upon his own system, has a multitude of political of­fences to atone for. I will not insist upon the nauseous de­tail, with which he so long disgusted the public. He seems to be ashamed of it. But what excuse will he make to the friends of the constitution for labouring to promote this con­summately bad man to a station of the highest national trust and importance? Upon what honorable motives did he recommend him to the livery of London for their representative;—to the ward of Faringdon for their alderman;—to the county of Middlesex for their knight? Will he affirm, that, at that time, he was ignorant of Mr. Wilkes's solicitations to the ministry? —That he should say so, is indeed very necessary for his own justification; but where will he find credulity to believe him?

In what school this gentleman learned his ethics, I know [...]. His logic seems to have been studied under Mr. Dyson. That miserable pamphleteer. by dividing the only precedent in point, and taking as much of it as suited his purpose, had reduced his argument upon the Middlesex election to some­thing like the shape of a syllogism, Mr. Horne has con­ducted himself with the same ingenuity and candour. I had affirmed, that Mr. Wilkes would preserve the public favour, ‘“as long as he stood forth against a ministry and parliament who were doing every thing they could to enslave the coun­try, ” and as long as he was a thorn in the King's side.’ Yet, from the exulting triumph of Mr. Horne's reply, one would think that I had rested my expectation, that Mr. Wilkes would be supported by the public upon the single con­dition of his mortifying the King. This may be logic at Cambridge or at the Treasury; but among men of sense and honour, it is folly or villany in the extreme.

I see the pitiful advantage he has taken of a single unguard­ed expression, in a letter not intended for the public. Yet [Page 228]it is only the expression that is unguarded. I adhere to the true meaning of that member of the sentence, taken separate­ly as he takes it; and now; upon the coolest deliberation, re-assert, that, for the purposes I referred to, it may be high­ly meritorious to the public, to wound the personal feelings of the Sovereign. It is not a general proposition, not is it generally applied to the chief Magistrate of this or any other constitution. Mr. Horne knows as well as I do, that the best of Princes is not displeased with the abuse which the sees thrown upon his ostensible minister It makes them, I pre­sume. more properly the objects of his royal compassion;— neither does it escape his sagacity, that the lower they are degraded in the public esteem, the more submissively they must depend upon his favour for protection. This I affirm, upon the most solemn conviction, and the most certain know­ledge, is a leading maxim in the policy of the closet. It is unnecessary to pursue the argument any farther.

Mr. Horne is now a very loyal subject. He laments the wretched state of politics in this country; and sees, in a new light, the weakness and folly of the opposition. Whoever, or whatever, is Sovereign, demands the respect and support of the people ^*; it was not so wh [...]n Nero s [...]ldled while Rome was burning. Our gracious Sovereign has had wonderful success in creating new attachments to his person and family. He owes it, I presume, to the regular system he has pursued in the mystery of conversion. He began with an experiment upon the Scotch; and concludes with converting Mr. Home. —What a pity it is, that the Jews should be condemned by Providence to wait for a Messiah of their own!

The priesthood are accused of misinterpreting the scrip­tures. Mr. Home has improved upon this profession. He alters the text. and creates a refutable doctrine of his own. Such artifices cannot long delude the understanding of the peo­ple; and, without meaning an indecent comparison. I may venture to foretel, that the Bible and Junius will be read, when the commentaries of the Jesuits are forgotten.

LETTER LV. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

THE enemies of the people, having now nothing better to object to my friend Junius, are at last obliged to quit his polities, and to rail at him for crimes he is not gui­ty of. His vanity and impiety are now the perpetual to­pics of their abuse. I do not mean to lessen the force of such charges, (supposing they were true); but to shew that they are not founded. If I admitted the premises, I should readi­ly agree in all the consequences drawn from them. Vanity indeed is a venial error; for it usually carries its own punish­ment with it:—but if I thought Junius capable of [...]tering a disrespectful word of the religion of his country, I should be the first to renounce and give him up to the public con­tempt and indignation. As a man, I am satisfied that he is a Christian upon the most sincere conviction: as a writer, he would be grossly inconsistent with his political principles, if he dared to attack a religion established by those laws which it seems to be the purpose of his life to defend.—Now for the proofs.— Junius is accused of an impious allusion to the holy sacrament, where he says, that if Lord W [...]ymmth be de­nied the cup, there will be no keeping him within the pale of the ministry. Now, Sir, I affirm, that this passage refers entire­ly to a ceremonial in the Roman-Catholic church, which de­nies the cup to the laity. It has no manner of relation to the Protestant creed; and is in this country as fair and object of ridicule as transubstantiation, or any other part of Lord Pe­ter's history in the tale of the tub.

But Junius is charged with equal vanity and impiety, in comparing his writings to the holy scripture.—The formal protest he makes against any such comparison avails him no­thing. It becomes necessary, then, to show that the charge destroys itself.—If he be vain, he cannot be impious. A vain man does not usually compare himself to an object which it is his design to undervalue. On the other hand, if he be impious, he cannot be vain; for his impiety, if any, must consist in his endeavouring to degrade the holy scriptures by a comparison with his own contemptible writings. This [Page 230]would be folly indeed of the grossest nature; but where lies the vanity?—I shall now be told,— ‘Sir, what you say is “plausible enough; but still you most allow that it is shame­fully impudent in Junius to tell us that his works will live ”as long as the Bible,’ My answer is, Agreed; [...] first p [...]e that be h [...]s said [...]. Look at his words, and you will find, that the utmost he expects is, that the Bible and Junius will survive the commentaries of the Jesuits; which any prove true in a fortnight. The most malignant sagacity can­not show that his works are, in his [...], to live as l [...]ng as the Bible.—Suppose I were so foretell, that Jack and [...] would survive Harry—does it follow that Jack [...] live as long as Tom? I would only illustrate my meaning, and pro­test against the least idea of profaneness.

Yet this is the way in which Junius is usually answered, arraigned, and con [...]cted. These candid critics never re­member any thing he says in honour of our holy religion: though it is true, that one of his leading arguments is mode to rest upon the [...]ternal [...] the parest if all [...]ligi­ous carries wi [...]h [...]i. [...] quote his words [...] and conclude from them, that he is a true and hearty Christian, in substance, not in ceremony; though possibly he may not agree with my reverend Lords the Bishop [...] the head of the Church, the prayers are [...] that [...]ing is religion.

LETTER LVI. FROM THE REVEREND MR. HORNE TO JUINUS.

I Congratulate you, Sir, on the recovery of your wound style, though it has cost you a fortnight. I compassionate your labour in the composition of your letters, and will com­municate to you the secret of my fluency.—Truth needs no ornament; and, in my opinion, what she borrows of the pencil is deformity.

You brought a positive charge against me of corruption. I denied the charge, and called for your proofs. You re­plied with abuse, and re-asserted your charge. I called again [Page 231]for proofs. You reply again with abuse only, and drop your accusation. In your fortnight's letter there is not one word upon the subject of my corruption.

I have no more to say, but to return thanks to you for your [...]. and to a gr [...]ful public and h [...]st ministry for all the favours they have conferred upon me. The two latter. I am sure, will never refuse me any grace I shall soli­cit; and since you have pleased to acknowledge. that you told a deliberate lie in my favour out of bounty, and as a [...] donation. why may I not expect that you will hereafter (if you do not forget you ever mentioned my name [...] [...]respect) make the same acknowledgment for what you here said to my prejudice?—This second recantation will perhaps be more abhorrvent from your disposition; but house you decline it, you will only afford one more instance how much easier it is to be g [...]nerous than just, and that mean me sometimes bountiful who are not honest.

At all events, I am as well satisfied with your panegyric as Lord Chatham can be. M [...]ument I shall have none; but over my grave it will be said i your own words, "H [...]'s [...] his intentions ^*

LETTER LVII. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

THE people of England are not apprised of the full ex­tent of their obligations to you. They have yet no adequate idea of the endless variety of your character. They have seen you distinguished and successful in the continued violation of those moral and political duties, by which the little as w [...] as the great societies of life are collected and hold together. Every colour, every character, become you. With a rate of abilities which Lord Weymouth very justly Lows down upon with contempt, you have done as much mis­chief to the community as Cromwell would have done. if [Page 232] Cr [...]well had been a coward; and as much as Machiavel, if Machiavel had not known that an appearance of morals and re­ligion are useful in society. To a thinking man, the influ­ence of the crown will, in no view, appear of formidable, as when he observes to what enormous successes it has safely con­ducted your Grace, without a ray of real understanding, without even the pretensions to common decency or princi­ple of any kind, or a single spark of personal resolution. What must be the operation of that pernicious influence, (for which our kings have wisely exchanged the nugatory name of prerogative.) that, in the highest stations, can so abundantly supply the absence of virtue, courage, and abilities, and qua­lify a man to be the minister of a great nation, whom a pri­vate gentleman would be ashamed and afraid to admit into his family! Like the universal passport of an ambassador, it su­percedes the prohibition of the laws, banishes the staple vir­tues of the country, and introduces vice an folly triumphant­ly into all the departments of the state. Other princes be­sides his Majesty, have had the means of corruption within their reach; but they have used it with moderation. In for­mer times, corruption was considered as a foreign auxiliary to government, and only called in upon extraordinary emergencies. The unfeigned piety, the sanctified religion, of George the Third, have taught him to new-model the civil forces of the state. The natural resources of the crown are no longer confided in. Corruption glitters in the van; collects and maintains a standing army of mercenaries, and at the same moment impoverishes and enslaves the country. His majesty's predecessors (excepting that worthy family from which you, my Lord, are unquestionably descended) had some generous qualities in their composition, with vices, I confess, or frailties, in abundance. They were kings or gentlemen, not hypocrites or priests. They were at the head of the church, but did not know the value of their office. They said their prayers without ceremony; and had too little priest­craft in their understanding to reconcile the sanctimonious forms of religion with the utter destruction of the morality of their people.—My Lord, this is fact, not declamation. With all your partiality to the house of Stuart. you must con­fess, that even Charles the Second would have blushed at that open encouragement, at those eager, meretricious caresses, with which very species of private vice and public prostitution is [Page 233]received at St. James's.—The unfortunate house of Stuart has been treated with an asperity which, if comparison be a de­fence, seems to border upon injustice. Neither Charles not his brother were qualified to support such a system of measures as would be necessary to change the government and subve [...] the constitution of England. One of them was too much in earnest in his pleasures—the other in his religion. But the danger to this county would cease to be problematical, if the crown should ever descend to a Prince, whose apparent sim­plicity might throw his subjects off their guard,—who might be no libertine in behaviour,—who should have no sense of honour to restrain him.—and who, with just religion enough to impose upon the multitude, might have no scruples of con­science to interfere with his morality. With these honour­able qualifications, and the decisive advantage of situation, low craft, and falsehood, are all the abilities that are wanting to destroy the wisdom of ages, and to deface the noblest monument that human policy has erected.—I know such a man:—My Lord, I know you both; and with the bles­sing of God (for I too am religious,) the people of England shall know you as well as I do. I am not very sure that great abilities would not in effect be an impediment to a de­sign, which seems at first sight to require a superior capacity. A better understanding might make him sensible of the won­derful beauty of that system he was endeavouring to corrupt. The danger of the attempt might alarm him. The meanness and intrinsic worthlessness of the object. (supposing he could attain it.) would fill him with shame. repentance and disgust. But these are sensations which find no entrance into a barba­rous contracted heart. In some men, there is a malignant passion to destroy the works of genius, literature, and free­dom. The Vandal and the Monk find equal gratification in it.

Reflections like these, my Lord, have a general relation to your Grace, and inseparably attend you in whatever compa­ny or situation your character occurs to us. They have no immediate connection with the following recent fact, which I lay before the public, for the honour of the best of Sove­reigns, and for the edification of his people.

A Prince, (whose piety and self-denial, one would think, might secure him from such a multitude of worldly necessi­ties,) with an annual revenue of near a million sterling, un­fortunately wants money.—The navy of England, by an equal­ly [Page 234]strange concurrence of unforeseen circumstances, (though not quite so unfortunately for his Majesty,) is in equal want of timber. The world knows in what a hopeful condition you delivered the navy to your successor. and in what a con­dition we found it in the moment of distress. You were de­termined it should continue in the situation in which you left it. It happened, however, very luckily for the privy-parse, that one of the above wants promised fair to supply the other. Our religious, benevolent, generous Sovereign, has no objec­tion to felling his own timber to his own admiralty to repair his own ships, not to putting the money into his own pocket. People of a religious turn naturally adhere to the principles of the church. Whatever they acquire falls into mort-main. Upon a representation from the admiralty of the extraordina­ry want of timber for the indispensable repairs of the navy, the surveyor-general was directed to make a survey of the timber in all the royal chaces and forests in England. Having obeyed his orders with accuracy and attention, he reported, that the finest timber he had any where met with, and the properest in every respect for the purposes of the navy, was in Wittlebury Forest, of which your Grace, I think, is here­ditary ranger. In consequence of this report, the usual war­rant was prepared at the treasury, and delivered to the sur­veyor, by which he or his deputy were authorised to cot down any trees in Wittlebury Forest which should appear to be pro­per for the purposes above-mentioned. The deputy, being informed that the warrant was signed and delivered to his principal in London, crosses the country to Northampton­shire, and with an officious zeal for the public service be­gins to do his duty in the forest. Unfortunately for him, he had not the warrant in his pocket. The oversight was enor­mous; and you have punished him for it accordingly. You have insisted, that an active, useful officer should be dismis­sed family.—In what language shall I address so black, so cowardly, a tyrant;—thou worse than one of the Bruns­wicks, and all the Stuarts!—To them who know Lord North, it is unnecessary to say, that he was mean and base enough to submit to you.—This, however, is but a small part of the fact. After ruining the surveyor's deputy for acting without the warrant, you att [...]ed the warrant itself. You declared that it was illegal; an [...]swore, in a fit of foaming frantic pas­sion, [Page 235]that it never should be executed. You asserted upon your honour, that in the great fo the rangership of Wittlebury F [...]st, made by Charles the S [...]c [...]nd (whom, with a modesty that would do honour to Mr. Rigby, you are pleased to call your ancestor) to one of his bastards, (from whom I make no doubt of your descent, [...] the property of the timber is vested in the ranger.—I have examined the original grant; and now, in the face of the public. contradict you directly upon the fact. The very reverse of what you have asserted upon your honour is the truth. The grant, expressly, and by a particular clause, reserves the property of the timber for the use of the crown.—In spite of this evidence,—in defiance of the repre­sentations of the admiralty,—in perfect mockery of the no­torious distresses of the English navy, and those equally pres­sing and almost equally notorious necessities of your pious Sovereign,—here the matter rests.—The lords of the treasury recall their warrant; the deputy-surveyor is ruined for doing his duty;—Mr. John Pitt (whose name I suppose is offensive to you) sabmits to be brow-beaten and insulted;—the oaks keep their ground;—the King is defrauded, and the navy of England may perish for want of the best and finest timber in the island. And all this is submitted to—to appease the Duke of Grafton!—to gratify the man who has involved the King and his kingdom in confusion and distress, and who, like a treacherous coward, deserted his Sovereign in the midst of it!

There has been a strange alteration in your doctrines, since you thought it adviseable to rob the Duke of P [...]land of his property, in order to strengthen the interest of Lord But's son-in-law before the last general election. N [...]ullu [...] tempus [...] ­currit r [...]gi, was then your boasted motto, and the cry of all your hungry partizans. Now, it seems, a grant of Charles the Second to one of his bastards, is to be held sacred and invio­lable! It must not be questioned by the King's servants, nor submitted to any interpretation but your own.—My Lord, this was not the language you held, when it suited you to insult the memory of the glorious deliverer of England from that detested family, to which you are still more nearly allied in principle than in blood.—In the name of decency and common sense, what are your Grace's merits, either with King or ministry, that should entitle you to assume this domi­neering authority over both?—Is it the fortunate consan­guinity [Page 236]you claim with the house of Stuart?—Is it the secret correspondence you have for so many years carried on with Lord Bute, by the assiduous assistance of your cr [...]a [...]- [...]l [...]red parasite?—Could not your gallantry find sufficient employ­ment for him in those gentle offices, by which he first acqui­red the tender friendship of Lord Barr [...]ngto [...]?—Or is it only that wonderful sympathy of manners which subsists between your Grace and one of your superiors, and does so much honour to you both?—Is the union of Bli [...]il and Black George no longer a [...]ance?—From whatever origin your influence in this country arises, it is a phenomenon in the history of human virtue and understanding.—Good men can hardly believe the fact. Wise men are unable to account for it. Religious men find exercise for their faith; and make it the last effort of their piety, not to repine against Providence

LETTER LVIII. ADDRESSED TO THE LIVERY OF LONDON.

IF you alone were concerned in the event of the present elec­tion of a chief magistrate of the metropolis, it would be the highest presumption in a stranger to attempt to influence your choice, or even to offer you his opinion. But the situa­tion of public affairs has annexed an extraordinary importance to your resolutions. You cannot, in the choice of your magistrate, determine for yourselves only. You are going to determine upon a point, in which every member of the com­munity if interested. I will not scruple to say, that the very being of that law, of that right, of that constitution, for which we have been so long contending, is now at stake. They who would ensnare your judgment, tell you, it is a common, ordinary case, and to be decided by ordinary prece­dent and practice. They artfully conclude from moderate peaceable times, to times which are not moderate, and which [...]ught not to be peaceable.—While they solicit your favour. they insist upon a rule of rotation which excludes all idea of election.

Let me be honoured with a few minutes of your atten­tion. —The question, to those who mean fairly to the liberty of the people, (which we all pros [...]ss to have in view) lies within a very narrow compass. Do you mean to desert that just and honourable system of measures, which you have hitherto pursued, in hopes of obtaining from parliament, or from the crown, a full redress of past grievances, and a secu­rity for the future?—Do you think the cause desperate, and will you declare that you think so to the whole people of England? If this be your meaning and opinion, you will act consistently with it in choosing Mr. Nash.—I profess to be unacquainted with his private character. But he has acted as a magistrate,—as a public man.—As such I speak of him, —I see his name in a protest against one of your remonstran­ces to the crown.—He has done every thing in his power to destroy the freedom of popular elections in the city, by pub­lishing the poll upon a former occasion; and I know in ge­neral, that he has distinguished himself, by slighting and thwarting all those public measures, which you have engaged in with the greatest warmth, and hitherto thought most wor­thy of your approbation.—From his past conduct, what con­clusion will you draw, but that he will act the same part as Lord Mayor, which he has invariably acted as Aldormen and Sheriff? he cannot alter his conduct without confessing, that he never acted upon principle of any kind.—I should be sorry to injure the character of a man, who perhaps may be honest in his intention, by supposing it p [...]ssible that he can ever con­cur with you in any political measure or opinion.

If, on the other hand, you mean to persevere in those re­solutions for the public good, which, though not always successful, are always honourable, your choice will naturally incline to those men, who (whatever they be in other re­spects) are most likely to co-operate with you in the great purposes which you are determined not to relinquish:—The question is not of what metal your instruments are made, but whether they are adapted to the work you have in hand. The honours of the city, in those times, are improperly, because exclusively, called a reword. You mean not merely to pay, but to employ. Are Mr. Crosby and Mr. Sawbridge likely to execute the extraordinary as well as the ordinary duties of Lord Mayor?—Will they grant you common-halls when it shall be necessary?—Will they go up with remonstrances to [Page 238]the King?—Have they firmnessss enough to meet the fury of a venal House of Commons?—Have they fortitude enough not to shrink at imprisonment?—Have they spirit enough to ha­zard their lives and fortunes in a contest, if it should be ne­cessary, with a prostituted legislature?—If these questions can fairly be answered in the affirmative, your choice is made. Forgive this passionate language.—I am unable to correct it. —The subject comes home to us all.—It is the language of my heart.

LETTER LIX. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

NO man laments more sincerely than I do, the unhappy differences which have arisen among the friends of the people, and divided them from each other. The cause un­doubtedly suffers as well by the diminution of that strength which union carries along with it, as by the separate loss of personal reputation which every man sustains when his cha­racter and conduct are frequently held forth in odious or contemptible colours.—These differences are only advantage­ous to the common enemy of the country.—The hearty friends of the cause are provoked and disgusted.—The luke­warm advocate avails himself of any pretence to relapse into that indolent indifference about every thing that ought to interest an Englishman, so unjustly dignified with the title of moderation.—The false, insidious, partizan, who creates or fo [...]en [...]s the disorder, sees the fruit of his dishonest indus­try ripen beyond his hopes, and rejoices in the promise of a banquet, only delicious to such an appetite as his own. —It is time for those who really mean the Cause and the People, who have no view to private advantage, and who have vir­tue enough to prefer the general good of the community to the gratisication of personal animosities—it is time for such men to interpose.—Let us try whether these fatal dissensions may not yet be reconciled; or, if that be impracticable, let us guard at least against the worst effects of divition, and en­deavour to persuade these furious partizans, if they will not [Page 239]consent to draw together, to be separately useful to that cause which they all pretend to be attached to.—Honour and honesty must not be renounced, although a thousand modes of right and wrong were to occupy the degrees of morality between Zeno and Epicurus. The fundamental principles of Christianity may still be preserved, though every zealous sectary adheres to his own exclusive doctrine, and pious ec­clesiastics make it part of their religion to persecute one ano­ther. —The civil constitution too, that legal liberty, that ge­neral creed which every Englishman professes, may still be sup­ported, though Wilkes, and Horne, and Townshend, and Saw­bridge, should obstinately refuse to communicate; and even if the fathers of the church, if Saville, Richmond, Camden, Rockingham, and Chatham, should disagree in the ceremo­nies of their political worship, and even in the interpretation of twenty texts in Magna Charta.—I speak to the people as one of the people.—Let us employ these men in whatever departments their various abilities are best suited to, and as much to the advantage of the common cause as their different inclinations will permit. They cannot serve us, without es­sentially serving themselves.

If Mr. Nash be elected, he will hardly venture, after so recent a mark of the personal esteem of his fellow-citizens, to declare himself immediately a courtier. The spirit and activity of the sheriffs, will, I hope, be sufficient to counter­act any sinister intentions of the Lord Mayor. In collision with their virtue, perhaps he may take fire.

It is not necessary to exact from Mr. Wilkes the virtues of a Stoic. They were inconsistent with themselves, who, al­most at the same moment, represented him as the basest of mankind, yet seemed to expect from him such instances of fortitude and self-denial as would do honour to an apostle. It is not however flattery to say, that he is obstinate, intrepid, and fertile in expedients.—That he has no possible resource, but in the public favour, is, in my judgment, a considerable recommendation of him. I wish that every man who pre­tended to popularity were in the same predicament. I wish that a retreat to St. James's were not so easy and open as pa­triots have found it. To Mr. Wilkes there is no access. However he may be missed by passion or imprudence, I think he cannot be guilty of a deliberate treachery to the public. The favour of this country constitutes the shield which de­fends [Page 240]him against a thousand daggers. Desertion would dis­arm him.

I can more readily admire the liberal spirit and integrity, than the found judgment of any man who prefers a repub­lican form of government, in this or any other empire of equal extent, to a monarchy so qualified and limited as ours. I am convinced, that neither is it in theory the wisest system of government, nor practicable in this country. Yet, though I hope the English constitution will for ever preserve its ori­ginal monarchial form, I would have the manners of the peo­ple purely and strictly republican.—I do not mean the licenti­ous spirit of anarchy and riot.—I mean a general attachment to the common-weal, distinct from any partial attachment to persons or families;—an implicit submission to the laws only, and an affection to the magistrate, proportioned to the inre­grity and wisdom with which he distributes justice to his peo­ple, and administers their affairs. The present habit of our political body appears to me the very reverse of what it ought to be. The form of the constitution leans rather more than enough to the popular branch; while, in effect, the manners of the people (of those at least who are likely to take a lead in the country) incline too generally to a dependence upon the crown. The real friends of arbitrary power combine the facts, and are not inconsistent with their principles, when they strenuously support the unwarrantable privileges assumed by the House of Commons.—In these circumstance, it were much to be desired, that we had many such men as Mr. Saw­bridge to represent us in Parliament.—I speak from common report and opinion only, when I impute to him a specula­tive predilection in favour of a republic.—In the personal conduct and manners of the man, I cannot be mistaken. He has shown himself possessed of hat republican firmness which the times require; and by which an English gentleman may be as usefully and as honourably distinguished, as any cirizen of ancient Rome, of Athens, or Laced [...]mon.

Mr. Townshend complains, that the public gratitude has not been answerable to his deserts.—It is not dis [...]cult to trace the artifices which have suggested to him a language so un­worthy of his understanding. A great man commands the affections of the people. A prudent man does not complain when he has lost them. Yet they are far from being lost to Mr. Townshend. He has treated our opinion a little too [Page 241]cavalierly. A young man is apt to rely too confidently up­on himself, to be as attentive to his mistress as a polite and passionate lover ought to be. Perhaps he found her at first too easy a conquest.—Yet, I fancy, she will be ready to receive him, whenever he thinks proper to renew his addresses. With all his youth, his spirit, and his appearance, it would be in­decent in the lady to solicit his return.

I have too much respect for the abilities of Mr. Horne, to flatter myself that these gentlemen will ever be cordially re­united. It is not, however, unreasonable to expect, that each of them should act his separate part with honour and in­tegrity to the public.—As for the differences of opinion upon speculative questions, if we wait until they are reconciled, the action of human affairs must be suspended for ever. But nei­ther are we to look for perfection in any one man, nor for agreement among many.—When Lord Chatham affirms, that the authority of the British Legislature is not supreme over the colonies in the same sense in which it is supreme over Great Britain;—when Lord Camden supposes a necessity, (which the King is to judge of,) and, founded upon that ne­cessity, attributes to the crown a legal power (not given by the act itself) to suspend the operation of an act of the legis­lature —I listen to them both with diffidence and respect, but without the smallest degree of conviction or assent. Yet, I doubt not, they delivered their real sentiments; nor ought they to be hastily condemned.— [...] have a claim to the can­did interpretation of my country, when I acknowledge an in­voluntary, compulsive assent to one very unpopular opinion. I lament the unhappy necessity, whenever it arises, of pro­viding for the safety of the subject. Would to God it were practicable to reconcile these important objects, in every pos­sible situation of public affairs!—I regard the legal liberty of the meanest man in Britain as much as my own, and would defend it with the same zeal. I know we must stand or fail together. But I never can doubt, that the community has a right to command, as well as to purchase, the service of its members.—I see that right founded originally upon a necessity which supercedes all argument. I see it established by usage immemorial, and admitted by more than a tacit assent of the legislature. I conclude there is no remedy, in the nature of things, for the grievance complained of; for, if there [Page 242]were, it must long since have been redressed. Though num­berless opportunities have presented themselves, highly favour­able to public liberty, no successful attempt has ever been made for the relief of the subject in this article. Yet it has been felt and complained of ever since England had a navy. The conditions which constitute this right, must be taken to­gether. Separately, they have little weight. It is not fair to argue, from any abuse in the execution, to the illegality of the power; much less is a conclusion to be drawn from the navy to the land-service. A seaman can never be employed but against the enemies of his country. The only case in which the King can have a right to arm his subjects in gene­ral, is that of a foreign force being actually landed upon our coast. Whenever that case happens, no true Englishman will inquire whether the King's right to compel him to defend his country, be the custom of England, or a grant of the legisla­ture. With regard to the press for seamen, it does not fol­low that the symptoms may not be softened, although the distemper cannot be cured. Let bounties be increased as fat as the public perse can support them. Still they have a limit; and, when every reasonable expence is incurred, it will be found, in fact, that the spur of the press is wanted to give operation to the bounty.

Upon the whole, I never had a doubt about the strict right of pressing, until I heard that Lord Mansfield had applaud [...]ed Lord Chatham for delivering something like this doctrine in the House of Lords. That consideration staggered me not a little. But, upon reflection, his conduct accounts naturally for itself. He knew the doctrine was unpopular, and was eager to fix it upon the man who is the first object of his fear and detestation. The cunning Scotchman never speaks truth without a fraudulent design. In council, he generally affects to take a moderate part. Besides his natural timidity, it makes part of his political plan, never to be known to re­commend violent measures. When the Guards are called forth to murder their fellow-subjects, it is not by the offensible ad­vice of Lord Mansfield. That odious office, this prudence tells him, is better left to such men as Gower and Weymouth, as Barrington and Grafton. Lord Hil [...]sborough wisely con­fines his firmness to the distant Americans.—The designs of Mansfield are more subtle, more effectual, and secure.—Who attacks the liberty of the press?—Lord Mansfield.—Who in­vades [Page 243]the constitutional power of juries?—Lord Mansfield.— What judge ever challenge [...] a juryman, but Lord Mansfield? Who was that judge, who, to save the King's brother, af­firmed that a man of the first rank and quality, who obtains a verdict in a suit for criminal conversation, is entitled to no greater damages than the meanest mechanic?—Lord Mans­field. —Who is it makes commissioners of the great seal? Lord Mansfield. Who is it forms a decree for those commis­sioners, deciding against Lord Chatham, and afterward [...] (find­ing himself opposed by the judges) declares in Parliament, that he never had a doubt that the law was in direct opposition to that decree?—Lord Mansfield.—Who is he that has made it the study and practice of his life, to undermine and alter the whole system of jurisprudence in the court of King's-bench? Lord Mansfield. There never existed a man but himself who answered exactly to so complicated a description. compared to these enormities, his original attachment to the Pretender (to whom his dearest brother was confidential secretary) is a virtue of the first magnitude. But the hour of impeachment will come, and neither he nor Grafton shall escape me. Now let them make common cause against England and the house of Hano­ver. A Stuart and a Murray should sympathise with each other.

When I refer to signal instances of unpopular opinions de­livered and maintained by men who may well be supposed to have no view but the public good, I do not mean to renew the discussion of such opinions. I should be sorry to revive the dormant questions of Stamp-act, Corn-bill, or Press-warrant. I mean only to illustrate one useful proposition, which it is the intention of this paper to inculcate;— That we should not ge­nerally reject the friendship or services of any man because he dif­fers from us in a particular opinion. This will not appear a su­perfluous caution, if we observe the ordinary conduct of man­kind. In public affairs there is the least chance of a perfect concurrence of sentiment or inclination. Yet every man is able to contribute something to the common stock; and no man's contribution should be rejected. If individuals have no virtues, their vices may be of use to us. I care not with what principle the new-born patriot is animated, if the measures he supports are beneficial to the community. The nation is interested in his conduct. His motives are his own. The properties of a patriot are perishable in the individ [...] [Page 244]but there is a quick succession of subjects, and the breed is worth preserving.—The spirit of the Americans may be an useful example to us. Our dogs and horses are only English upon English ground; but patriotism, it seems, may be im­proved by transplanting.—I will not reject a bill which tends to confine parliamentary privilege within reasonable bounds, though it should be stolen from the house of Cavendish, and introduced by Mr. Onslow. The features of the infant are a proof of the descent, and vindicate the noble birth from the baseness of the adoption I willingly accept of a sarcasm from Colonel Barré, or a simile from Mr. Burke. Even the silent vote of Mr. Calcraft is worth reckoning in a division. What though he riots in the plunder of the army, and has on­ly determined to be a patriot when he could not be a peer! Let us profit by the assistance of such men while they are with us, and place them, if it be possible, in the post of danger, to prevent desertion.—The wary Wedderburne, the pompous Suffolk, never threw away the scabbard, nor ever went upon a forlorn hope. They always treated the King's servants as men with whom, some time or other, they might possibly be in friendship.—When a man who stands forth for the public has gone that length, from which there is no practicable re­treat, —when he has given that kind of personal offence which a pious monarch never pardons, I then begin to think him in earnest, and that he never will have occasion [...]o soli [...] the forgiveness of his country.—But instances of a determination so entire and unreserved, are rarely met with. Let us take mankind as th [...]y are. Let us distribute the virtues and abili­ties of individuals, according to the offices they affect; and, when they quit the service, let us endeavour to supply their places with better men than we have lost. In this country, there are al [...] a s [...]an [...]dates enough for popular favour. I he temple of fame is the short [...]st passage to riches and preferment.

A [...]e all things, let me guard my country men against the meanness and soily of accepting of a tristing or moderate compensation for extraordinary and essential injuries. Our enemies treat [...]s as the cunning trader does the unskilful In­dian. They magnify their generosity, when they give us baubles o [...] little proportionate value, for ivory and gold. The same House of Commons, who robbed the constituent body of their right of free election; who presumed to make a law, under pretence of declaring it; who paid our good [Page 245]King's debts, without one inquiring how they were incur­rel; who gave thanks for repeated murders committed at home, and for national infamy incurred abroad; who screen­ed Mansfield; who imprisoned the magistrates of the metro­polis for asserting the subject's right to the protection of the laws; who crase! a judicial record, and ordered all proceed­ings in a criminal suit to be suspended;—this very House of Commons have gratiously consented, that their own members may be compelled to pay their debts, and that contested elections shall for the future be determined with some decent regard to the merits of the case. The event of the suit is of no consequence to the crown. While Parliaments are septen­nial, the purchase of the sitting member or of the petitioner makes but the difference of a day.—Concessions, such as these, are of little moment to the sum of things; unless it be to prove that the worst of men are sensible of the injuries they have done us, and perhaps to demonstrate to us the imminent danger of our situation. In the shipwreck of the state, trifles float and are preserved; while every thing solid and valuable sinks to the bottom, and is lost for ever.

LETTER IX. ADDRESSED TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVER­TISER.

I AM convinced that Junius is incapable of wilfully misre­presenting any man's opinion, and that his inclination leads him to treat Lord Camden with particular candour and respect. The doctrine attributed to him by Junius, as far as it goes, corresponds with that stated by your correspondent Scaevola, who seems to make a distinction without a differ­ence. Lord Camden, it is agreed, did certainly maintain, that, in the recess of Parliament, the King (by which we all mean the King in council, or the executive power) might sus­pend the operation of an act of the Legislature; and he found­ed his doctrine upon a supposed necessity, of which the King, in the first instance, must be judge. The lords and commons [Page 246]cannot be judges of it is. the first instance, for they do not exist.—Thun far Junius.

But. says Scaevola, Lord Camden made Parliament, and not the King, judges of the necessity.—That Parliament may re­view the acts of ministers, is unquestionable; but there is a wide difference between saying that the crown has a legal power, and that ministers may act at their peril. When we say that an act is illegal, we mean that it is forbidden by a joint resolution of the three estates. How a subsequent re­solution of two of those branches can make it legal ab initio, will require explanation. If it could, the consequence would be truly dreadful, especially in these times. There is no act of arbitrary power which the King might not attribute to necessity, and for which he would not be secure of obtaining the approbation of his prostituted lords and commons. If Lord Camden admits that the subsequent sanction of Parlia­ment was necessary to make the proclamation legal, why did he so obstinately oppose the bill which was soon after brought in for indemnifying all those persons who had acted under it?—If that bill had not been passed, I am ready to main­tain, in direct contradiction to Lord Camden's doctrine, (taken as Scaevola states it) that a litigious exporter of corn, who had suffered in his property in consequence of the pro­clamation, might have laid his action against the custom­house officers, and would infallibly have recovered damages. No jury could refuse them; and if I, who am by no means litigious, had been so injured, I would assuredly have insti­tuted of right. I would have done it upon a principle of de­fiance of the pretended power of either or both houses to make declarations inconsistent with law; and I have no doubt that, with an act of Parliament on my side, I should have been too strong for them all. This is the way in which an Englishman should speak and act; and not suffer dangerous precedents to be established, because the circumstances are favourable or palliating.

With regard to Lord Camden, the truth is, that he inad­vertently overshot himself, as appears plainly by that un­guarded mention of a tyranny of forty days, which I myself heard. Instead of asserting that the proclamation was legal, he should have said, ‘My lords, I know the proclamation “was illegal; but I advised it because it was indispensably [Page 247]necessary to save the kingdom from famine; and I submit ”myself to the justice and mercy of my country.’

Such Language as this would have been manly, rational, and consistent:—not unfit for a lawyer, and every way wor­thy of a great man.

P. S. If Scaevola should think proper to write again up­on this subject, I beg of him to give me a direct answer, that is, a plain affirmative or negative, to the following questi­ons: —In the interval between the publishing such a procla­mation (or order of council) as that in question, and its re­ceiving the sanction of the two houses, of what nature is it? is it legal or illegal? or is it neither one nor the other?—I mean to be candid, and will point out to him the conse­quence of his answer either way. If it be legal, it wants no farther sanction; if it be illegal, the subject is not bound to obey it; consequently it is an useless nugatory act, even as to its declared purpose. Before the meeting of Parliament, the whole mischief, which it means to prevent, will have been completed.

LETTER LXI. TO ZENO.

THE sophistry of your letter in defence of Lord Mans­field. is adapted to the character you defend. But Lord Mansfield is a man of form, and seldom in his behaviour trans­gresses the rules of decorum. I shall imitate his Lordship's good manners, and leave you in full possession of his prin­ciples. I will not call you liar, jesuit, or villain; but, with all the politeness imaginable, perhaps I may prove you so.

Like other fair pleaders in Lord Mansfield's school of jus­tice, you answer Junius by misquoting his words, and mistat­ing his propositions. If I am candid enough to admit that this is the very logic taught at St. Omer's, you will readily allow that it is the constant practice in the court of King's-bench, —JUNIUS does not say, that he never had a doubt a­bout [Page 248]the strict right of pressing, till he knew Lord Mansfield was of the same opinion. His words are, Until he heard that Lord Mansfield had applauded Lord Chatham for maintaining that doctrine in the House of Lords. It was not the accidental con­currence of Lord Mansfield's opinion, [...] the suspicious ap­plause given [...] a cunning [...] he detests, that raised and justified a doubt in the mind of Junius. The question is not, Whether Lord Mansfield be a man of learn­ing and [...] Junius has never di [...]pated); but, Whether [...] abouts an [...] supplies his talents?

Junius did not say that Lord Mansfield had advised the calling out the Guards. On the contrary, his plain mean­ing is, that he left that odious office to men less cunning than himself.—Whether Lord Mansfield's doctrine concern­ing libels be or be not an attack upon the liberty of the press, is a question which the public in general are very well able to determine. I shall not enter into it at present. Not do I think it necessary to say much to a man, who had the daring confidence to say to a jury. ‘Gentlemen you are to bring “in a verdict guilty or not guilty; but whether the defendant be guilty or innocent, is not matter for your considerati­on.”’ Clothe it in what language you will, this is the sum total of Lord Mansfield's doctrine. If not, let Zeno show us the difference.

But it seems the liberty of the press may be abused; and the abuse of a valuable privilege is the certain means to lose it. The first I admit:—but let the abuse be submitted to a jury; a sufficient, and indeed the only legal and constitutional check upon the licence of the press. The second I flatly deny. In direct contradiction to Lord Mansfield, I affirm, ‘that the “abuse of a valuable privilege is not the certain means to lose ”it.’ If it were, the English nation would have few pri­vileges left; for where is the privilege that has not, at one time or other, been abused by individuals? But it is false in reason and equity, that particular abuses should produce a general forfeiture. Shall the community by deprived of the protection of the laws, because there are robbers and mur­derers? —Shall the community be punished, because indivi­als have offended? Lord Mansfield says so, consistently enough with his principles; but I wonder to find him so explicit. Yet, for one concession, however extorted. I confess myself obliged to him:—The liberty of the press is after all a valuable [Page 249]privilege. I agree with him most heartily, and will defend it against him.

You ask me, What juryman was challenged by Lord Mans­field? I tell you his name is Benson. When his name was called, Lord Mansfield ordered the clerk to pass him by. As for his reasons, you may ask himself, for he assigned none: but I can tell you what all men thought of it. This Benson had been refractory upon a former jury, and would not ac­cept of the law as delivered by Lord Mansfield; but had the impudence to pretend to think for himself.—But you, it seems honest Zeno, know nothing of the matter. You ne­ver read Junius's letter to your patron: You never heard of the intended instructions from the city to impeach Lord Mansfield You never heard by what dexterity of Mr. Pa­terson that measure was prevented. How wonderfully ill some people are informed!

Junius did never affirm, that the crime of seducing the wife of a mechanic or a peer, is not the same, taken in a moral or religious view. What he affirmed, in contradicti­on to the levelling principle so lately adopted by Lord Mans­field, was, that the damages should be proportioned to the rank and fortune of the parties; and for this plain reason, (admit­ted by every other judge that ever sat in Westminster-hall), because, what is a compensation or penalty to one man, is none to another. The sophistical distinction you attempt to draw between the person injured and the person injuring, is Mansfield all over. If you can once establish the proposition, that the injured party is not entitled to receive large damages, it follows pretty plainly, that the party injuring should not be compelled to pay them; consequently the King's brother is effectually screened by Lord Mansfield's doctrine. Your reference to Nathan and David come naturally in aid of your patron's professed system of jurisprudence. He is food of introducing into the court of King's-bench any law that con­tradicts or excludes the common law of England; whether it be canon, civil, jus gentium, or levitical. But, Sir, the bible is the code of out religious faith, not of our municipal ju­risprudence; and though it was the pleasure of God to in­flict a particular punishment upon David's crime (taken as a breach of his divine commands), and to send his prophet to denounce it, an English jury have nothing to do either with David or the prophet. They consider the crime only as it [Page 250]is a breach of order, an injury to an individual, and an of­fence to society; and they judge of it by certain positive rules of law, or by the practice of their ancestors. Upon the whole, the man after God's own heart is much indented to you for comparing him to the Duke of Cumberland. That his Royal Highness may be the man after Lord Mansfield's own heart, seems much more probable; and you, I think, Mr. Zeno, might succeed tolerably well in the character of Nathan. The evil deity, the prophet, and the royal sinner, would be very proper company for one another.

You say Lord Mansfield did not make the commissioners of the great seal, and that he only [...] the King to appoint. I believe Junius meant no more; and the distinction is hard­ly worth disputing.

You say he did not deliver an opinion upon Lord Chatham's appeal,—I affirm that he did, directly in favour of the appeal. This is a point of fact, to he determined by evidence only. But you assign no reason for his supposed thence, nor for his desiring a conference with the judges the day before. Was not all Westminster-hall convinced that he did it with a view to puzzle them with some perplexing question, and in hopes of bringing some of them over to him?—You say the com­missioners were very capable of framing a decree for themselves. By the fact, it only appears, that they were capable of fra­ming an illegal one; which I apprehend, is not [...]uch to the credit either of their learning or integrity.

We are both agreed, that Lord Mansfield has incessantly laboured to introduce new modes of proceeding in the court where he presides; but you attribute it to an honest real in be­half of innocence oppressed by quibble and chicane. I say, that he has introduced new law too, and removed the land­marks established by former decisions. I say, that his view is to change a court of common law into a court of equity, and to bring every thing within the arbitrium of a praetorian court. The public must determine between us. But, now for his merits. First, then, the establishment of the judges in their places for life, (which you tell us was advised by Lord Mansfield,) was a concession merely to catch the people. It bore the appearance of a royal bounty, but had nothing real in it. The judges were already for life, excepting in the case of a demise. Your boasted bill only provides, that it shall not be in the power of the King's successor to remove them. At [Page 251]the best, therefore, it is only a legacy, not a gift, on the part of his present majesty, since or himself he gives up nothing. That he did oppose Lord Camden and Lord Northington upon the proclamation against the exportation of corn, is most true, and with great ability. With his talents, and taking the right side of so clear a question, it was impossible to speak ill.—His motives are not so easily penetrated. They who are acquainted with the state of polities at that period, will judge of them somewhat differently from Zeno. Of the po­pular bills, which you say he support [...] [...]n the Hous [...] Lords, the most [...]teria, is unquestionably tha [...] of [...], for deciding contesters elections. But I should [...] to know upon what possible [...] any member [...]. Upper House could oppose [...] passed the House of Com­mons? —I do not pretend to know what share he had in pro­moting the other two [...]; but I am ready to give him all the credit you desire. Still you will find, that a whole life of deliberate iniquity is ill atoned for, by doing now and then a laudable action upon a mixed or doubtful principle.—If it be unworthy of him, thus ungratefully treated, to labour any longer for the public, in God's name let him retire. His brother's patron (whose health he once was anxious for) is dead; but the son of that unfortunate prince survives, and I dare say, will be ready to receive him.

LETTER LXII. TO AN [...]CATE IN THE CAUSE OF THE PEOPLE.

YOU de not treat Junius fairly. You would not have condemned him so hastily, if you had ever read Judge Poster's argument upon the legality of pressing seamen. A man who ha not read that argument, is not qualified to speak accurately upon the subject. In answer to strong facts and fair reasoning, you produce nothing but a vague comparison be­tween two things which have little or no resemblance to each other. General warrants, it is true, had been often issued; but they had never been regularly questioned or resisted until [Page 252]the case of Mr. Wilkes. He brought them to trial; and the moment they were tried, they were declared illegal. This is not the case of pr [...]s [...]-warrants. They have been complained of, questioned, and resisted in a thousand instances; but still the legislature have never interposed, nor has there ever [...] a formal decision against them in any of the superior courts. On the contrary, they have been frequently recognized and admitted by Parliament; and there are judicial opinions gives in their favour by judges of the first character. Under the various circumstances stated by Junius, he has a right to con­clude for himself, that there is no remedy. If you have a good one to propose, you may depend upon the assistance and ap­plause of Junius. The magistrate who guards the liberty of the individual, deserves to be commended. But let him re­member, that it is also his duty to provide for, or at least of a foreign war, and the expectation of an invasion, you would rather keep your sleet in harbour, than man it by pressing seamen who refuse the bounty, I have done.

You talk of disbanding the army, with wonderful ease and indifference. If a wiser man held such language, I should be apt to suspect his sincerity.

As for keeping up a much greater number of seamen in time of peace, it is not to be one. You will oppress the merchant, you will distress trade, and destroy the nursery of your seamen. He must be a miserable statesman, who vo­luntarily by the same act increases the public expence, and lessens the means of supporting it.

LETTER LXIII.

AFRIEND of Junius desires it may be observed, (in an­swer to A Barrist rat law,)

1m [...], That the fact of Lord Mansfield's having ordered a juryman to be passed by (which poor Zeno never heard of) is now formally admitted.

When Mr. Benson's name was called, Lord Mansfield was observed to flush in the face, (a signal of guilt not uncommon [Page 253]with him), and cried out, Pass him by. This I take to be something more than a peremptory challenge. It is an un­lawful command, without any reason [...]gned. That the counsel did not resist, is true; but this might happen either from inadvertence, or a criminal complaisance to Lord Mansfield.—You Barristers are too apt to be civil to my Lord Chief Justice, at the expence of your clients.

2d [...]. Junius did never say that Lord Mansfield and destroyed the liberty of the press. ‘That his Lordship has laboured “ [...]wor [...] stroy,—that his doctrine is an attack upon the liberty ”of the press.—that it is an invasion of the right of juries,’ are the propositions maintained by Junius. His opponents never answer him in point, for they never meet him fairly upon his own ground.

3ti [...], Lord Mansfield's policy, in endeavouring to screen his unconstitutional doctrines behind an act of the legislature, is easily understood.—Let every Englishman stand upon his guard;—the right of juries to return a general verdict, in all cases whatsoever, is a part of our constitution. It stands in no need of a bill, either [...]acting or declaratory, to con­firm it.

4to, With regard to the Grosvenor cause, it is pleasant to observe, that the doctrine, attributed by Junius to Lord Mansfield, is admitted by Zeno, and directly defended. The Barrister has not the assurance to deny it flatly; but he evades the charge, and softens the doctrine by such poor contemptible quibbles as cannot impose upon the meanest understanding.

5to, The quantity of business in the court of King's bench prove nothing but the litigious spirit of the people, arising from the great increase of wealth and commerce. These, however, are now upon the decline, and will soon leave no­thing but law-suits behind them. When Junius affirms that Lord Mansfield has laboured to alter the system of jurispru­dence in the court where his Lordship presides, he speaks to those who are able to look a little farther than the vulgar. Besides that the multitude are easily deceived by the impos­ing names of equity and substantial justice, it does not follow, that a judge, who introduces into his court new modes of proceeding and new principles of law, intends, in every in­stance, to decide unjustly. Why should he, where he ha no interest?—We say that Lord Mansfield is a bad man, and a [Page 254]worse Judge; —but we do not say that he is a [...] devil. Our adversaries would fain reduce us to the difficulty of proving too much.—This artifice, however, shall not avail him. The truth of the matter is plainly this. When Lord Mansfield has succeeded in his scheme of changing a court of common law to a court of equity, he will have it in his pow­er to do injustice whenever he thinks proper. This, though a wicked purpose, is neither absurd nor unattainable.

6to, The last paragraph relative to Lord Chatham's cause cannot be answered. It partly refers to facts of too secret a nature to be ascertained, and partly is unintelligible. ‘“Upon one point, the cause is decided against Lord Chat­ham. ”—Upon another point, it is decided for him.’—Both the law and the language are well suited to a Barrister?—If I have any guess at this honest gentleman's meaning, it is, That ‘whereas the commissioners of the great seal saw “the question in a point of view unfavourable to Lord Chat­ham, and decreed accordingly,—Lord Mansfield, out of sheer love and kindness to Lord Chatham, took the pains to place it in a point of view more favourable to the ap­pellant. ”’ — Cr da. [...].—So curious an assertion would stagger the faith of Mr. Sylva.

LETTER LXIV.

WE are desired to make the following declaration, in behalf of Junius, upon three material points, on which is opinion has been mistaken or misrepresented.

1mo, Junius considers the right of taxing the colonies, by an act of the British legislature, as a speculative right merely, never to be exerted, nor ever to be [...]. To his judge­ment it appears plain, ‘That the general reasonings which “were employed against that power went directly to our whole legislative right, and that one part of it could not be yielded to such arguments without a virtual surrender ”of all the rest.’

2d [...], That, with regard to press-warrants, his argument should be taken in his own words, and answered strictly;— that comparisons may sometimes illustrate, but prove no­thing: [Page 255]and that, in this case, an appeal to the passions is unfair and unnecessary. Junius feels and acknowledges the evil in the most express terms, and will show himself ready to concur in any rational plan that may provide for the liber­ty of the individual, without hazarding the safety of the com­munity. At the same time, he expects that the evil, such as it is, be not exaggerated or misrepresented. In general, it is not unjust, that when the rich man contributes his wealth, the poor man should serve the state in person; otherwise the latter contributes nothing to the defence of that law and con­stitution from which he demands safety and protection. But the question does not lie between rich and poor. The laws of England make no such distinctions. Neither is it true that the poor man is torn from the care and support of a wife and family, h [...]pless without him. The single questi­on is, Whether the seaman ^*, in times of public danger, shall serve the merchant, or the state, in that profession to which be was bred, and by the exercise of which alone he can ho­nestly support himself and his family.—General arguments against the doctrine of necessity, and the dangerous use that may be made of it, are of no weight in this particular case. Necessity includes the idea of inevitable. Whenever it is so, it creates a law to which all positive laws and all positive rights must give way. In this sense the levy of ship-money by the King's warrant as not necessary, because the business might have been as well or better done by Parliament. If the doctrine maintained by Junius be confined within this limitation, it will go but very little way in support of arbi­trary power. That the King is to judge of the occasion, is no objection, unless we are told how it can possibly be other­wise. There are other instances, not less important in the exercise, nor less dangerous in the abuse, in which the con­stitution relies entirely upon the King's judgement. The executive power proclaims war and peace, binds the nation by treaties, orders general embargoes, and imposes quaran­tines; not to mention a multitude of prerogative writs, which, though liable to the greatest abuses, were never disputed.

3ti [...], It has been urged as a reproach to Junius, that he has not delivered an opinion upon the Game Laws, and particu­larly the late Dog-Act. But Junius thinks he has much great­er reason to complain, that he is never assisted by those who are able to assist him; and that almost the whole labour of the press is thrown upon a single hand, from which a discussion of every public question whatsoever is unreasonably expected. He is not paid for his labour, and certainly has a right to choose his employment.—As to the Game Lows, he never scrupled to declare his opinion, that they are a species of the Forest Laws; that they are oppressive to the subject; and that the spirit of them is incompatible with legal liberty:—That the penalties imposed by these laws bear no proportion to the nature of the offence; that the mode of trial, and the degree and kind of evidence necessary to convict, not only deprive the subject of all the benefits of a trial by jury, but are in themselves too summary, and to the last degree arbitrary and oppressive: That, in particular, the late acts to prevent dog­stealing, or killing game between sun and sun, are distinguish­ed by their absurdity, extravagance, and pernicious tenden­cy. If these terms are weak or ambiguous, in what language can Junius express himself?—It is no excuse for Lord Mans­field to say, that he happened to be absent when these bills passed the House of Lords. It was his duty to be present. Such bills could never have passed the House of Commons without his knowledge. But we very well know by what rule be regulates his attendance. When that order was made in the House of Lords in the case of Lord Pomfret, at which every Englishman shudders, my honest Lord Mansfield found himself, by more accident, in the court of King's-bench:—O­therwise he would have done wonders in defence of law and property! The pitiful evasion is adapted to the character. But Junius will never justify himself by the example of this had man. The distinction between doing wrong, and avoiding to do right, belongs to Lord Mansfield. Junius disclaims it.

LETTER LXV. TO LORD CHIEF JUSTICE MANSFIELD.

AT the intercession of three of your countrymen, you have bailed a man who, I presume, is also a Scotchman and whom the Lord Mayor of London had refused to bail. I do not mean to [...] into an examination of the pa [...]ila, sinister motives of your conduct; but, confining myself strictly to the fact, I affirm, that you have done that which by law you were not warranted to do. The thief was taken in the theft; the stolen goods were found upon him, and he made no de­fence. In these circumstances (the truth of which you dare not deny, because it is of public notoriety,) it could not stand in­different whether he was guilty or not, much less could there be any presumption of his innocence; and in these circumstan­ces, I affirm, in contradiction to YOU, LORD CHIEF JUS­TICE MANSFIELD, that by the laws of England, he was not bailable. If ever Mr. Eyre should be brought to trial, we shall hear what You have to say for yourself; and I pledge myself, before God and my country, in proper time and place, to make good my charge against you.

LETTER LXVI. TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

JUNIUS engages to make good his charge against Lord Chief Justice Mansfield some time before the meeting of Parliament, in order that the House of Commons may, if they think proper, make it one article in the impeachment of the said Lord Chief Justice.

LETTER LXVII. TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON.

WHAT is the reason, my Lord, that when almost every man in the kingdom, without distinction of princi­ples or party, exults in the ridiculous defeat of Sir James Lowther: when good and bad men unite in one common opi­nion of that Baronet, and triumph in his distress, as if the event (without any reference to vice or virtue) were interest­ing to human nature; your Grace alone should appear so mi­serably depressed and afflicted? In such universal joy, I know not where you will look for a compliment of condolence, un­less you appeal to the tender, sympathetic sorrows of Mr. Brad­shaw. That cream-coloured gentleman's tears, affecting as they are carry consolation with them. He never weeps, but, like an April shower, with a lambent ray of sunshine upon his countenance. From the feelings of honest men upon this joyful occasion. I do not mean to draw any conclusion to your Grace. They naturally rejoice when they see a signal instance of tyranny resided with success;—of treachery ex­posed to the derision of the world;—an infamous informer defeated, and an impudent robber dragged to the public gib­bet. —But, in the other class of mankind, I own I expected to meet the Duke of Graston. Men who have no regard for justice, nor any sense of honour, seem as heartily pleased with Sir James Lowther's well-deserved punishment, as if he did not constitute an example against themselves. The un­happy Baronet has no friends, even among those who resem­ble him. You, my Lord, are not reduced to so deplorable a state of dereliction. Every villain in the kingdom is your friend; and, in compliment to such amity, I think you should suffer your dismal countenance to clear up. Besides, my Lord, I am a little anxious for the consistency of your cha­racter. You violate your own rules of decorum, when you do not insult the man whom you have betrayed.

The divine justice of retribution seems now to have begun its progress. Deliberate treachery entails punishment upon the traitor. There is no possibility of escaping it, even in the highest rank to which the consent of society can exalt the [Page 259]meanest and worst of men. The forced, unnatural union of Louttrell and Middlesex, was an omen of another unnatural union, by which indefeasible infamy is attached to the house of Brunswick. If one of these acts was virtuous and honour­able, the best of Princes, I thank god, is happily rewarded for it by the other.—Your Grace, it has been said, had some share in recommending Colonel Luttrell to the King;—or was it only the gentle Bradshaw who made himself answera­ble for the good behaviour of his friend? An intimate con­nection has long subsisted between him and the worthy Lord Irnham. It arose from a fortunate similarity of principles, comented by the constant meditation of their common friend Miss Davis ^*.

Yet I confess I should be sorry that the opprobrious in­famy of this match should reach beyond the family.—We have now a beter reason than ever to pray for the long life of the hest of Princes, and the welfare of his royal issue.—I will not mix any thing ominous with my pravers;—but let Par­liament look to it.—A Luttrell shall never, succeed to the [Page 260]crown of England.—If the hereditary virtues of the family de­serve a kingdom, Scot and will be a proper retreat for them.

The next is a most remarkable in space of the go [...] of Providence. The just law of retaliation has at last overtakes the little contemptible tyrant of the North. In the son-in-law of your dearest friend the Earl of Bute von meant to transfer the Duke of Pertland's property; and you haltered the grant with an expedition unknown to the treason, that be might have it time enough to give a decisive turn to the election for the county. The immediate consequence of this flagitious robbery was, that he lost the election which you meant to insure to him, and with such final circumstances of scorn, reproach, and insult (to save nothing of the gene­ral exultation of all parties) as (exce [...]ting the King's bro­ther-in-law Colonel Luttreil, and old S [...] his father-in-law) hardly ever sell upon a gentleman in this country.—In the event, he loses the very property of which he thought he bad gotten possession, and after an expence which would have paid the value of the land in question twenty times over. The forms of villainy, you see, are necessary to its success. Hereafter you will act with greater circumspection, and not drive so directly to your object. To search a grad beyond the reach of common treachery, is an exception, not a rule.

And now, my good Lord, does not your conscious hears inform you, that the justice of retribution begins to operate, and that it may soon approach your person?—Do you think that Junius has renounced the Middlesex election?—or that the King's timber shall be refused to the Royal Navy with impunity?—or that you shall hear no more of the sale of that patent to Mr. Hine, which you endeavoured to screen by sud­denly dropping your prosecution of Samme IV [...]ghban, when the rule against him was made absolute? I believe indeed there never was such an instance in all the history of negative im­pudence. —But it shall not save you. The very sunshine you live in is a prelude to your dissolution. When you are ripe, you shall be plucked.

P. S. I beg you will convey to our gracious master my humble congratulations upon the glorious success of peera­ges and pensions, so lavishly distributed as the rewards of Irish virtue.

LETTER LXVIII. TO LORD CHIEF JUSTICE MANSFIELD.

I HAVE undertaken to prove, that when, at the interces­sion of three of your country men, you bailed John Eyre, you did that which by law you were not warranted to do; and that a felon, under the circumstances of being taken in the fact, with the s [...]ale [...] g [...]d upon him, and making us defence, is not bail­able by the laws of England. Your learned advocates have interpreted this charge into a denial that the court of King's-bench or the judges of that court during the vacation, have any greater authority to bail for criminal offences than a justice of peace. With the instance before me, I am sup­posed to question your power of doing wrong, and to deny the existence of a power at the same moment that I arraign the illegal exercise of it. But the opinions of such men, whether wilful in their malignity, or sincere in their igno­rance, are unworthy of my notice. You, Lord Mansfield, did not understand me so; and, I promise you, your cause requires an abler defence.—I am now to make good my charge against you. However dull my argument, the subject of it is interesting. I shall be honoured with the attention of the public, and have a right to demand the attention of the legislature. Supported as I am by the whole body of the criminal law of England, I have no doubt of establish­ing my charge. If, on your part, you should have no plain, substantial defence, but should endeavour to shelter yourself under the quirk and evasion of a practising lawyer, or under the mere insuiting assertion of power without right, the ex­putation you pretend to is gone for ever;—you stand de­graded from the respect and authority of your office, and are no longer, de jure, Lord Chief Justice of England. This letter, my Lord, is addressed, not so much to you. as to the public. Learned as you are, and quick in apprehension, few arguments are necessary to satisfy you, that you have done that which by law you were not warranted to do. Your conscience already tells you, that you have sinned against knowledge, and that whatever defence you make contradicts your own internal conviction. But other men [Page 262]are willing enough to take the law upon trust. They rely upon your authority, because they are too indolent to search for information; or, conceiving that there is some mystery in the laws of their county which lawyers only are quali­fied to explain, they distrust their judgment, and volunta­rily renounce the right of thinking for themselves. With all the evidence of history before them, from [...] to Jefferies, from Jefferies to Mansfield, they will not believe it possible that a learned judge can act in direct contradiction to those laws which he is supposed to have made the study of his life, and which he has sworn to administer faithfully. Superstition is certainly not the characteristic of this age. Yet some [...] insidels in re­ligion. —I do not [...] credulity.

The charge I brought against you is expressed in terms guarded and well considered. They do not deny the strict power of the judges of the chart of King's-bench to bail in cases not bailable by a justice of the p [...]ace, nor replevisable by the common writ, or [...] by the sheriff. I well know the practice of the court, and by what legal rules is ought to be directed. But, far from meaning to soften or diminish the force of those terms I have made use of, I now go be­yond them, and affirm,

I. That the superior power of bailing for felony claimed by the court of King's-bench is founded upon the opinion of lawyers, and the practice of the court;—that the assent of the legislature to this power is merely negative, and that it is not supported by any positive provision in any statute whatsoever—If it be, produce the statute.

II. Admitting that the judges of the court of King's-bench are vested with a discretionary power to examine and judge of circumstances and allegations which a justice of peace is not permitted to consider, I affirm that the judges, in the use and application of that discretionary power, are as strict­ly bound by the spirit, intent, and meaning, as the justice of peace is by the words, of the legislature. Favourable circumstances alleged before the judge, may justify a doubt whether the prisoner be guilty or not; and, where the guilt is doubtful, a presumption of innocence should, in general, be admitted. But, when any such probable circumstances are alleged, they alter the state and condition of the prisoner. [Page 263] He is no longer that all-but-convicted felon whom the law in­tends, and who by law is not bailable at all. If no circum­stances whatsoever are alleged in his favour;—if no allega­tion whatsoever be made to lessen the force of that evidence which the law annexes to a positive charge of felony, and particularly to the fact of being taken with the maner; I then say, that the Lord Chief Justice of England has no more right to hail him than a justice of peace. The discretion of an English judge is not of mere will and pleasure;—it is not arbitrary;—it is not capricious; but, as that great lawyer (whose authority I wish you respected half as much as I do) truly says ^*, ‘Discretion, taken as it ought to be, is, dis­ [...]ruere “per l [...]g [...] quid [...]it [...]. If it be not directed by the right line of the law, it is a crooked cord, and appear­eth ”to be unlawful.’—If discretion were arbitrary in the judge, he might introduce whatever novelties he thought proper. But, says Lord Coke, ‘Noveltis, without war­rant “of precedents, are not to be allowed; some certain rules are to be followed:— [...] judicis authoritari sub­j [...]ur, ” [...] non subj [...]ur:’ and this sound doctrine is applied to the Star-chamber, a court confessedly arbitrary. If you will abide by the authority of this great man, you shall have all the advantage of his opinion, wherever it ap­pears to favour you. Excepting the plain express meaning of the legislature, to which all private opinions must give way, I desire no better judge between us than Lord Coke.

III. I affirm, that, according to the obvious indisputable meaning of the legislature, repeatedly expressed, a person positively charged with [...] stealing, and taken in fla­grante delicts, with the stolen goods upon him, is not bailable. The law considers him as differing in nothing from a convict, but in the form of conviction; and whatever a corrupt judge may do) will accept of no security but the confinement of his body within four walls. I know it has been alleged in your favour, that you have often bailed for murders, rapes, and other manifest crimes, Without questioning the fact, I shall not admit that you are to be justi [...]ed by your own example. If that were a protection to you, where is the crime, that, as a judge, you might not now securely commit? But neither shall I suffer myself to be drawn aside from my pre­sene argument, nor you to profit by your own wrong.—To [Page 264]prove the meaning and intent of the legislature, will require a minute and tedious deduction. To investigate a question of law, demands some labour and attention: though very little genius or sagacity. As a practical profession, the study of the law requires but a moderate portion of abilities. The learning of a pleader is usually upon a level with his integri­ty. The indiscriminate defence of right and wrong contracts the understanding, while it corrupts the heart. Subtlety is soon mistaken for wisdom, and impunity for virtue. If there be any instances upon record, as some there are un­doubtedly, of genius and morality united in a lawyer, they are distinguished by their singularity, and operate as excep­tions. I must solicit the patience of my readers. This is no light matter; nor is it any more susceptible of ornament, than the conduct of Lord Mansfield is capable of aggravation.

As the law of bail, in charges of felony, has been exactly ascertained by acts of the legislature, it is at present of little consequences to inquire how it stood at common law before she statute of Westminster. And ye it is worth the reader's attention to observe, how nearly, in the ideas of out ances­tors, the circumstance of being taken with the m [...]er ap­proached to the conviction of the felon ^*. It ‘fixed the au­thoritative “stamp of verisimilitude upon the accusation; and, by the common law, when a thief was taken with the m [...]er, (that is, with the thing stoien upon him, in manu) be might, so detected flagrance delieto, be brought into court, arraigned and tried, [...] indictment; as, by the Danish law, he might be taken and hanged upon ”the spot, without accusation or trial.’ It will soon ap­pear that our statute-law, in this behalf, though less summary in point of proceeding, is directed by the same spirit. In one instance, the very form is adhered to. In offences re­lating to the forest, if a man was taken with vert, or veni­son ^†, it was declared to be equivalent to indictment. To enable the reader to judge for himself, I shall state, in due order, the several statutes relative to bail in criminal cases, or as much of them as may be material to the point in ques­tion, omitting superfluous words. If I misrepresent, or do not quote with fidelity, it will not be difficult to detect me.

^* The statute of Westminster the first, in 1275, sets forth. that ‘Forasmuch as sheriffs and others, who have taken and “kept in prison persons detected of felony, and incontinent have let out by replevin such as were not replevisable, be­cause they would gain of the one party and grieve the other; and forasmuch as, before this time, it was not de­termine which persons were replevisable, and which not, it is provided, and by the King commanded, that such prisoners, &c. as be taken with the maner, &c. or for manifest offences, shall be in nowise replevisable by the common ”writ, nor without writ.’ ^† —Lord Coke, in his expositi­on of the last part of this quotation, accurately distinguishes between replevy by the common writ, or ex officio, and bail by the King's-bench. The words of the statute certainly do not extend to the judges of that court. But, besides that the reader will soon find reason to think that the legislature, in their intention, made no difference between bailable and re­plevisable, Lord Coke himself (if he understood to mean nothing but an exposition of the statute of Westminster, and not to state the law generally) does not adhere to his own distinction. In expounding the other offences which, by this statute, are declared not replevisable, he constantly uses the words not bailable.— ‘That outlaws, for instance, are not “bailable at all;—that persons who have abjured the realm, are attainted upon their own confession, and therefore not bailable at all by law;—that provers are not bailable;—that ”notorious felons are not bailable.’ The reason why the su­perior courts were not named in the statute of Westminster, was plainly this, ‘because anciently most of the business “touching bailment of prisoners for felony or misdemeanors, was performed by the sheriffs, or special bailliffs of liber­ties, ”either by writ, or virtu [...]e off [...] ^‡;’ consequently the superior courts had little or no opportunity to commit those [Page 266]abuses which the statute imputes to the sheriffs.—With sub­mission to Dr. Blackstone, I think he has [...] into a con­tradiction; which, in terms at least, appears i [...]r [...] malleable. After enumerating several offences not bailable, be asserts, without any condition or limitation whatsoever, ^* ‘All these “ ”are clearly not admissible to bail.’ Yet, in a few lines after he says, it is agreed that the court of King's-bench ‘may bail “for any crime whatsoever, according to circumstances of the ”case.’ To his first preposition be should have added, by Sheriffs or Justices; otherwise the two propositions contradict each other; with this difference, however, that the first is absolute, the second limited by a consideration of circumstances. I say this without the least intended disrespect to the learned author. His work is of public utility, and should not hastily be condemned.

The statute of 17 Richard II. cap. 10.1393, sets forth, that ‘Forasmuch as thieves notoriously defamed, and others “ [...] with the maner, by their long abiding in prison, were delivered by chanters, and favourable inquests procured, to the great hinderance of the people, two men of law shall be assigned, in every commission of the peace, to proceed ”to the deliverance of such felons,’ &c. It seems by this act, that there was a constant struggle between the legislature and the officers of justice. Not daring to admit felons taken with the maner to bail or mainprise, they evaded the law by keeping the party in prison a long time, and then delivering him without due trial.

The statute of 1 Richard III. 1483, sets forth, that ‘For­asmuch “as divers persons have been daily arrested and im­prisoned for suspicion of felony, sometime of malice, and sometime of a light suspicion of kept in prison without bail or mainprise; he it ordained, that every justice of peace shall have authority, by his discretion, to let such ”prisoners and persons so arrested to bail or mainprise.’—By this act it appears, that there had been abuses in matters of im­prisonment, and that the legislature meant to provide for the immediate enlargement of persons arrested in light suspicion of felony.

The statute of 3d Henry VII. in 1406, declares, that ‘un­der “colour of the preceding act of Richard the Third, per­sons, such as were not mainpernable, were oftentimes let to [Page 267]bail or mainprise by justices of the peace, whereby many murderers and felons escaped; the King, &c. hath ordained, that the justices of the peace, or two of them at least, (where­of one to be of the quorum,) have authority to let any such prisoners or persons, mainpernable by the law, to bail or ”mainprise.’

The statute of 1st and and of Philip and Mary, in 1554, sets forth, that, ‘notwithstanding the preceding statute of Hen­ry “the Seventh, [...] justice of peace hath oftentimes, by sinist­er labour and means, set at large the greatest and notablest offenders, such as be not replecisable by the laves of this realm; and yet, the rather to hide their affections in that behalf, have signed the cause of their apprehension to be but only for suspicion of felony, whereby the said offenders have escaped unpunished, and do daily, to the high dis­pleasure of Almighty God, the great peril of the King and Queen's true subjects, and encouragement of all thieves and e [...]l doers;—for reformation whereof be it enacted, that no justices of peace shall let to bail or mainprise any such persons, which, for any offence by them committed, be declared not to be replevisable, or bailed, or be forbidden to be replevised or bailed by the statute of Westminster the [...]; and furthermore, that any persons, arrested for man­slaughter, felony, being bailable by the law, shall not be let to bail or mainprise by any justices of peace, but in the ”form therein after prescribed.’—In the two preceding sta­tutes, the words, bailable, replevisable, and mainpernable, are used synonymously ^*, or promiscuously, to express the same single intention of the legislature, viz. not to accept of any security but the body of the offender; and when the latter statute prescribes the form in which persons arrested on suspition of felony (being bailable by the law) may be let to bail, it evi­dently supposes, that there are cases not bailable by the law. It may be thought, perhaps, that I attribute to the legislature an appearance of inaccuracy in the use of terms, merely to serve my present purpose. But in truth it would make more forcibly for my argument, to presume, that the legislature were constantly aware of the strict legal distinction between bail and replevy, and that they always meant to adhere to it. ^† For if it be true that replevy is by the sheriffs, and bail by [Page 268]the higher courts at Westminster, (which I think no lawyer will deny,) it follows, that when the legislature expressly says, that any particular offence is by law not bailable the superior courts are comprehended in the prohibition, and bound by it. Otherwise, unless there was a positive exception of the supe­rior courts (which I affirm there never was in any statute rela­tive to bail,) the legislature would grossly contradict them­selves, and the manifest intention of the law be evaded. It is an established rule, that when the law is special, and the reason of it general, it is to be generally understood; and though by custom a latitude be allowed to the court of King's-bench. (to consider circumstances inductive of a doubt whe­ther the prisoner be guilty or innocent,) if this latitude be taken as an arbitrary power to bail, when no circumstances whatsoever are alleged in favour of the prisoner, it is a pow­er without right, and a daring violation of the whole English law of bail.

The act of the 31st of Charles the Second (commonly call­ed the Habeas Corpus act) particularly declares, that it is not meant to extend to treason or felony plainly and specially ex­pressed in the warrant of commitment). The prisoner is here­fore left to seek his Habeas corpus at common law; and so far was the legislature from supposing that persons (committed for treason or felony plainly and specially expressed in the warrant of commitment) could be let to bail [...] single judge. or by the whose court, that this very act provides a remedy for such persons, in case they are not indicted in the course of the term or sessions subsequent to their commitment. The law neither suffers them to be enlarged before trial, nor to be imprisoned after the time in which they ought regularly to be tried. In this case the law says, ‘it shall and may be law­ful “to and for the judges of the court of King's-bench, and justices of over and terminer, or general gaol-delivery, and they are hereby required, upon motion to them made in open court the lost day of the term, session, or gaol-delivery, [...] the prisoner, or any one in his behalf, to set at li­berty the prisoner, upon bait; unless it appear to the judges and justices upon bath made, that thy witnesses for the King could not be prodcced the same term, sessions, or gaol-de­livery.”’ [Page 269]—Upon the whole of this article, I observe, 1. That the provision made in the first part of it, would be in a great measure useless and nugatory, if any single judge might have bailed the prisoner ex arbitri [...] during the vacation; or if the court might have bailed him immediately after the commencement of the term or sessions.—2. When the law says, It shall and may be lawful to bail for felony, under particular circumstances, we must presume, that before the passing of that act, it was no! lawful to bail under those circumstances. The terms used by the legislature are enacting, not declaratory. 3. Notwithstanding the party may have been imprisoned daring the greatest part of the vacation, and during the whole session, the court are expressly forbidden to bail him from that session to the next, if oath be made that the witnesses for the King could not be procured that same term of sessions.

Having faithfully state the several acts of Parliament re­lative to bail in criminal cases, it may be useful to the read­er to take a short historical review of the law of bail, through its various gradations and improvements.

By the ancient common law, before and since the con­quest, all felonies were bailable, till murder was excepted by statute; so that persons might be admitted to bail, before conviction, almost in every case. The statute of Westmin­ster says, that, before that time, it had not been determined which offences were replevisable, and which were not, whe­ther by the common writ de homin [...] repl [...]giands, or ex [...]ssi [...] by the sheriff. It is very remarkable, that the abuses arising from this unlimited power of replevy, dreadful as they were, and destructive to the peace of society, were not corrected or taken notice of by the legislature, until the commons of the kingdom had obtained a share in it by their representatives; but the Housed of Commons had scarce begun to exist, when these formidable abuses were corrected by the statute of West­minster. It is highly probable. that the mischief had been severely felt by the people, although no remedy had been provided for it by the Norman Kings or Barons. ‘The “iniquity of the times was so great ^*, as it even forced the subjects to forego that. which was in account a great li­berty, ”to stop the course of a growing mischief.’ The preamble to the statutes, made by the first Parliament of Ed­ward [Page 270]the First, assigns the reason of calling it ^*, ‘because “the people had been otherwise entreated than they ought to be, the peace less kept, the laws less used: and offenders less punished, than they ought to be, by reason whereof the ”people seared less to offend:’ and the first attempt to re­form these various abuses, was by contration the power of. replevying felons.

For above two centuries following, it does not appear that any alteration was made in the law of bail, except that being taken with [...], was declared to be equivalent to indictment. The legislature adhered firmly to the spirit of the statute of Westminster. The statute of 27th of Ed­ward the First, directs the justices of affine to inquire and punish officers bailing such as were [...] bailable. As for the judges of the superior courts, it is probable, that in those days they thought themselves bound by the obvious intent and meaning of the legislature. They considered not so much to what particular persons the prohibition was addressed, as what the thing was which the legislature meant to prohibit: well knowing, that in law, [...] pr [...]ibetur, pr [...]be­tur et [...], per quod devenitur [...] ill [...]. ‘When any thing is “forbidden, all the means by which the same thing may be ”compassed or done, are equally forbidden.’

By the statute of Richard the Third, the power of bailing was a little enlarged, Every justice of peace was authorised to bail for felony; but they were expressly confined to per­sons arrested [...] light suspicion; and even this power, so limit­ed, was found to produce such inconveniencies, that, in three years after, the legislature found it necessary to repeal it. Instead of trusting any longer to a singe justice of peace, the act of 3d Henty VII. repeals the preceding act, and directs, ‘“that no prisoner (of those who are mainp [...]rnabl [...] by the law) shall be let to bail or mainprise by less than [...] justices, ”whereof one to be of the quorum.’ And so indispensably necessary was this provision thought for the administration of justice, and for the security and peace of society, that at this time an oath was proposed by the King, to be taken by the Knights and Esquires of his household. by the members of the House of Commons, and by the peers spiritual and temporal, and accepted and sworn to quasi una voce by them all; which, among other engagements, binds them ‘not [Page 271] “to let any man to bail or mainprise, knowing and deem­ing him to be a felon, upon your honour and worship. ”So help you God and all saints ^*.’

In about half a century, however, even these provisions were found insufficient. The act of Henry the Seventy was evaded, and the legislature once more obliged to interpose, The act of 1st and 2d of Philip and Mary, takes away en­tirely from the justices all power of bailing for offences d [...] ­ [...]i [...]ted [...] bailable by the statute of Westminster.

The illegal imprisonment of several persons who had re­fused to contribute to a loan exacted by Charles the First, and the delay of the had as corpus. and subsequent refusal to bail them, constituted one of the first and most important griev­ances of that reign. Yet when the House of Commons, which met in the year 1628, resolved upon measures of the most firm and strenuous resistance to the power of imprison­ment assumed by the King or privy-council, and to the re­fusal to bail the party on the return of the habeas corpus, they did expressly, in all their resolutions, make an excep­tion of commitments, where the cause of the restraint was expressed. and did by law justify the commitment. The reason of the distinction is, that whereas, when the cause of commitment is expressed, the crime is then known, and the offender must be brought to the ordinary trial; if, on the contrary, no cause of commitment be expressed, and the pri­soner be thereupon remanded, it may operate to perpetual imprisonment. This contest with Charles the First produced the act of the 16th of that King; by which the court of King's-bench are directed, within three days after the return to the habeas corpus, to examine and determine the legality of any commitment by the King or privy-council, and to do what to justice shall appertain, in delivering, bailing, or re­manding the prisoner.— New, it seems, it is unnecessary for the judge to do what appertains to justice. The same scan­dalous trassic, in which we have seen the privilege of Parlia­ment exerted or relaxed, to gratify the present humour, or to serve the immediate purpose, of the crown, is introduced into the administration of justice. The magistrate, it seems, has now no rule to follow, but the dictates of personal en­mity, national partiality, or perhaps the most prostituted corruption.

To complete this historical inquiry, it only remains to be observed, that the habeas corpus act of 31st of Charles the Se­cond, so justly considered as another Magna Charta of the kingdom ^*, ‘extends only to the case of commitments for “such criminal charge as can produce no inconvenience to ”public justice by a temporary enlargement of the prisoner.’ So careful were the legislature, at the very moment when they were providing for the liberty of the subject, not to furnish any colour or pretence for violating or evading the established law of bail in the higher criminal offences. But the exception, stated in the body of the act, puts the matter out of all doubt. After directing the judges how they are to proceed to the discharge of the prisoner upon recognisance and surety, having regard to the quality of the prisoner, and nature of the offence, it is expressly added, ‘unless it shall “appear to the said Chancellor, &c. that the party so commit­ted is detained for such matters or offences, for the which, ”BY THE LAW, THE PRISONER IS NOT BAILABLE.’

When the laws, plain of themselves, are thus illustrated by facts, and their uniform meaning established by history, we do not want the authority of opinions, however respectable, to inform our judgment, or to confirm our belief. But I am determined that you shall have no escape. Authority of every sort shall be produced against you, from Jacob to Lord Coke, from those upright judges whom you disdain to imi­tate, to those whom you have made your example. With one voice they all condemn you.

‘“To be taken with the maner, is where a thief having stolen any thing, is taken with the same about him, as it were in his hands, which is called flagrante d [...]licto. Such ”a criminal is not bailable by law.’— Jacob, under the word Maner.

‘“Those who are taken with the maner are excluded, by ”the statute of Westminster, from the benefit of a replevin.’ Hawkins, P. C. ii. 98.

‘“Of such heinous offences, no one, who is notoriously ”guilty, seems to be bailable by the intent of this statute.’ Ditto, ii. 99.

‘“The common practice and allowed general rule is, that bail is only then proper where it stands indifferent, whether ”the party were guilty or innocent.’— Ditto, ditto.

‘“There is no doubt, but that the bailing of a person, who is not bailable by law, is punishable, either at common law as a negligent escape, or as an offence against the seve­ral ”statutes relative to bail.’— Ditto, 89.

‘“It cannot be doubted, but that neither the judges of his, not of any other superior court of justice, are strictly with­in the purview of that statute; yet they will always, in their discretion, pay a due regard to it, and not admit a person to bail, who is expressly declared by it irreplevisa­ble, without some particular circumstance in his favour; and therefore it seems difficult to find an instance, where per­sons, attainted of felony, or notoriously guilty of treason or manslaughter, &c. by their own confession, or other­wise, have been admitted to the benefit of bail, without ”some special motive to the court to grant it.’ Ditto, 114.

‘“If it appears that any man hath injury or wrong by his imprisonment, we have power to deliver and discharge him;—if otherwise, he is to be remanded by us to prison ”again.’— Lord Ch. J. Hyde. [...] Trials, vii. 1115.

‘“The statute of Westminster was especially for direction to the sheriffs and others; buy to say courts of justice are ”excluded from this statute, I [...]ceive it cannot be.’— At­torney-General Heath, Ditto, 132.

‘“The court, upon view or the return. judgeth of the sufficiency or insufficiency of it. If they think the prison­er in law to be bailable, be is committed to the Marshal ”and bailed; if not he is remanded.’—Through the whole debate, the objection on the part of the prisoner was, that no cause of commitment was expressed in the warrant; but it was uniformly admitted by [...]ir council, that if the cause of commitment had been expressed for treason or felony, the court would then have done right in remanding them.

The Attorney-Genera! having urged, before a committee of both houses, that, in Beckwith's case, and others, the lords of the council sent a letter to the court of King's-bench to bail, it was replied by the manages of the House of Commons. that this was of no moment; ‘for that either “the prisoner was bailable by the law, or not bailable.—If bailable by the law, then he was to be bailed without any [Page 274]such letter;—if not bailable by the law, then plainly the judges could not have bailed him upon the letter, with­out breach of their oath, which is, that they are to do jus­tice ”according to the law,’ &c. State Trials, vii. 175.

‘“So that in hailing upon such offences of the highest na­ture, a kind of discretion, rather than a constant law, hath! been exercised, when it stands wholly ind [...]ff-rent in the ”eye of the court, whether the prisoner be guilty or not.’ Selden, St. Tr. vii. 230. 1.

‘“I deny that a man is always bailable when imprison­ment ”is imposed upon him for custody.’— Attorney-Gene­ral Heath, ditto, 238. By those quotations from the State Trials, though otherwise not of authority, it appears plain­ly, that in regard to bailable or not bailable, all parties a­greed in admitting one proposition as incontrovertible.

‘“In relation to capital offences, there are especially these acts of parliament that are the common landmark, ^* touch­ing ”offences bailable or not bailable.’ Hale, ii P. C. 127. The enumeration incluctes the several acts cirted in this pa­per.

‘“Persons taken with the mai [...]vre are not bailable, be­cause ”it is furtum [...].’ Hale, ii. P. C. 133.

‘“The wirt of habeas corpus is a high nature: for if per­sons be wrongfully committed. they are to be discha [...]d upon this writ returned; or, if bailable, they are [...] ”bailed;— if not bailable, they are to be commit [...].’ Hale, ii. P. C. 143. This doctrine of Lord Chief Justice Hale refers immediately to the superior courts from whence the writ issues.— ‘After the return is filed, the court if either to “discharge, or bail, or commit him, as the nature of the ”case requires.’ Hale. ii. P. C. 146.

‘“If bail be granted otherwise than the law allow [...]th, the party that alloweth the same, shall be fined, imprisoned, render damages or forfeit his place, as the case shall re­quire.”’ Selden, by N. Bacon, 182.

‘“This induces and absolute necessity of expressing, upon every commitment, the reason for which it is made; that the court, upon a habeas corpus, may examine into its va­lidity, and, according in the circumstances of the ease, may ”discharge, admit to bail, or remand the prisoner.’ Black­stone, iii. 133.

‘“Mar [...]iot was committed for forging indorsements upon bank-b [...]l [...]s, and upon a habeas corpus was bailed, because the crime was only a great misdemeanour;—for though the forging the bills [...]e felony, yet forging the indorsement is ”not.’ Sal [...]la. i. 104.

‘“Appell de Ma [...]m. &c. ideo [...]e suit lesse a baille, nient plus que in a pell de robbry ou m [...]rder; quod n [...]ta, et que ”in robbry [...]marder le partie n [...]est baillable.’ Br [...]. Ma [...] ­pri [...], 67.

‘“The intendment of the law in bails is, Q [...]d stati [...]dsiffer­enter. whether he be guilty or no, but when he is comvict by [...] or confe [...]on, than he must be deemed in law to ”be g [...]lty of the [...], and therefore not bailable at all.’ C. [...]. ii. [...] [...]—iv. 178.

‘“bail is [...] renter, and not when the offence ”is open and man [...]st.’ ii. l [...]st. 189.

‘“I [...] this case, n [...] first indifferenter whether he be guilty or n [...]; being taken with the [...]er, that is, with the thing ” [...], as it were in his hand.’ Do. Do.

‘“If [...] that this imprisonment be just and law­ful, he [...] be [...] to the former g [...]ler; but if it [...] to the court that he was imprisoned against the law of the land. they ought, by force of this statute, to deliver him; if it be [...], and under consideration, he ”may be bailed.’ ii. [...] [...].

It is [...] l [...]ad the reader with any farther quo­tations. If these authorities are not deemed sufficient to establish the doctrine maintained in this paper, it will be in vain to appeal to the evidence of law-b [...]ks, or to the opi­nions of judges. They are not the authorities by which Lord, Mansfield will abide. he assumes an arbitrary power of doing right; and if he does wrong, it lies only between God and his conscience.

Now my Lord, although I have great faith in the pre­ceding argument, I will not say that every minute part of it i [...] absolutely invulnerable. I am too well acquainted with the practice of a certain court, directed by your example, as it is governed by your authority, to think there ever yet was an a [...]ment, however conformable to law and reason, in which a [...]unning quibbling attorney might not discover a slaw. But, taking the whole of it together, I affirm, that it constitutes a mass of demonstration, than which nothing more complete [Page 276]or satisfactory can be offered to the human mind. How an evasive, indirect reply will stand with your reputation, or how far it will answer in point of defence, at the has of the House of Lords, is worth your consideration. If, after all that has been said, it should still be maintained, that the court of King's bench, in bailing felons, are exempted from all le­gal roles whatsoever; and that the judge has no direction to pursue but his private affections, or mere unquestionable a ill and p [...]asure; it will follow plainly, that the distinction be­tween bailable and we bailable, uniformly expressed by the legislature, current through all our law-books, and admit­ted by all our great lawyers without exception, is in one scnse a nugatory, in another a pernicious distinction. It is nuga­tory, as it supposes a difference in the bailable quality of of­fences, when, in effect, the distinction refers only to the rank of the magistrate. It is pernicious, as it implies a rule of law, which yet the judge is not bound to pay the lead regard to; and impresses an idea upon the minds of the people, that the judge is wiser and greater than the law.

It remains only to apply the law, thus stated, to the fact in question. By an authentic copy of the [...], it ap­pears, that John Eyre was committed for [...]. plainly and specially expressed in the warrant of commitment. He was charged before alderman halifax, by he oath of Thomas Fielding, William Holder. William Parne, and William Nash, for [...] eleven quires of writing-paper, value six shillings, the property of Thomas Beech, &c.—By the examinations upon [...]th of the four persons mentioned in the [...]. it was pr [...]ed, that large quantities of paper had been missed, and that eleven quires preciously marked from a suspicion that [...] was the thies [...] were found upon him. Many other quires of paper, marked is the same man­ner, were found at his lodgings; and after he had been some time in Wood-street Compter, a key was found in his room there, which appeared to be a key to the closet at Guildhall, from whence the paper was [...]. When asked what he had to say in his desence hi-only answer was, I h [...]pe you [...]ill bail me. Mr. Holder, the clerk, [...]lied. [...] [...]s [...]slible. There never was [...] found upon the thief. The Lord Mayor was th [...]n applied to, and refused to bail him.—Of all these circumstances it was your duty to have informed yourself minutely, The fact was remarkable; and [Page 277]the chief magistrate of the city of London was known to have refused to bail the offender, To justify your compli­ance with the solicitations of your three countrymen, it should be proved that such allegations were offered to you, in behalf of their associate, as honestly and b [...]na side reduced it to a matter of doubt and indifference whether the prisoner was innocent or guilty. Was any thing offered by the Scotch triumvirate that tended to invalidate the positive charge made against him by four credible witnesses upon oath?— Was it even insinuated to you, either by himself, or hi bail, that no felony was committed;—or that he was not the fe­lon; —that the stolen goods were not found upon him;—or that he was only the receiver, not knowing them to be stol­en? —Or, in short, did they attempt to produce any evi­dence of his insanity?—To all these questions I answer for you, without the least fear of contradiction, positively NO. From the moment he was arrested, he never entertained any hope of acquittal; therefore though of nothing but obtain­ing bail, that he might have time to settle his affairs, con­vey his fortune into another country, and spend the remain­der of his life in comfort and affluence abroad. In this pru­dential scheme of future happiness, the Lord Chief Justice of England most readily and heartily concurred. At sight of so much virtue in distress, your natural benevolence took the alarm. Such a man as Mr. Eyre struggling with adversi­ty, must always be an interesting scene to Lord Mansfield.— Or was it that liberal anxiety, by which your whole life has been distinguished, to enlarge the liberty of the subject?—My Lord, we did not want this new instance of the liberality of your principles. We already knew what kind of subjects they were for whose liberty you were anxious. At all events, the public are much indebted to you for fixing a price at which felony may he committed with impunity. You bound a felon, notoriously worth 30,000 l. in the sum of 300 l. With your natural turn to equity, and knowing as you are in the doctrine of precedents, you undoubtedly meant to set­tle the proportion between the fortune of the felon and the fine: by which he may compound for his felony. The ratio now upon record, and transmitted to posterity under the au­spices of Lord Mansfield, is exactly one to an hundred.—My Lord, without intending it, you have laid a cruel restraint upon the genius of your country men. In the warmest in­dulgence [Page 278]of their passions, they have an eye to the expence; and if their other virthues fail us, we have a resource in their [...]conomy.

By taking so trisling a security from John Eyre, you in­vited and manifestly exhorted him to escape. Although, in bailable cases, it be usual to take four securities, you left him in the custody of three Scotchmen, whom he might have easily satisfied for conniving at his retreat That he did not make use of the oppo [...]ta [...]ity you industriously gave him, neither justifies your conduct, nor can it be any way account­ed for but by his excessive and monstrous avarice. Any other man but this bosom-friend of three Scotchmen, would glad­ly have sacrificed a few hundred pounds rather than submit to the infamy of pleading guilty in open court. It is possi­ble indeed that be might have slattered himself, and not un­reasonably, with the hopes of a pardon. That he would have been pardoned, seems more than prodable, if I had not directed the public attention to the leading step you took in favour of him. In the present gentle reign, we well know what use has been made of the lenity of the court and of the mercy of the crown. The Lord Chief Justice of England accepts of the hundredth part of the property of a felon tak­en in the fact, as a recognisance for his appearance. Your brother Smyths browbeats a jury, and forces them to alter their verdict: by which they had found a Scotch serjeant guilty of murder; and though the Kennedies were convicted of a most deliberate and atrocious murder, they still had a claim to the royal mercy.—They were saved by the chastity of their connections.—They had a sister;—Yet it was not her beauty, but the pliancy of her virtue, that recommended her to the King.—The holy Author of our religion was seen in the company of sinners; but it was his gracious purpose to convert them from their sins. Another man, who in the ceremonies of our faith might give lessons to the great enemy of it, open different principles keeps much the same com­pany. He advertises for patients, collects al the diseases of the heart, and turns a royal palace into an hospital for incura­bles. —A man of honour has no ticket of admission at St. James's. They receive him like a virgin at the Magdalene's; Go them and [...] likewise.

My charge against you is now made good. I shall howe­ver be ready to answer or to submit to fair objections. If [Page 279]whenever this matter shall be agitated, you suffer the doors of the house of Lords to be that, I now protest, that I shall consider you as having made no reply. From that moment, in the opinion of the world, you will stand self-convicted. Whether your reply be quibbling and evasive, or liberal and in point, will be matter for the judgment of your peer. But if, when every possible idea of disrespect to that noble house (in whose honour and justice the nation implicitly con­sides) is here most solemnly disclaimed, you should endeavour to represent this charge as coutempt of their authority, and move their Lordships to ceasure the publisher of this paper; I then affirm that you support injustice by violence, that your are guilty of a heinous aggravation of your offence, and that you contribute your utmost insluence to promote, on the part of the highest court of judicature, a positive denial of justice to the nation.

LETTER LXIX. TO THE MOHT HOX. LORD CAMDEN.

I Turn with pleasure srom that barren waste, in which an salutary plant takes root, no verdure quickens, to a cha­racter fertile, as I willingly believe, in every great and good qualification. I call upon you, in the name of the English nation, to stand forth in defence of the laws of your country, and to exert, in the cause of truth and justice, those great abilities with which you were entrusted for the benefit of mankind. To ascertain the facts set forth in the preceding paper, it may be necessary to cail the persons mentiouned in the [...] to the bar of the house of Lords. If a motion for that purpose should be rejected, we shall know what to thin [...] of Lord Mansfield's innocence. The legal argument is sub­mitted to your Lordship's judgment. After the noble stand you made against Lord Mansfield upon the question of libel, we did expect that you would not have suffered that matter to have remained undetermined. But it was said that Lord Chief Justice Wilmothad been prevailed upon to vouch for an opinion of the have Judge Yates, which was supposed to make against [Page 280]you; and we admit of the excuse. When such deterrable acts are employed to prejudge a question of right, it might have been imprudent, at that time, to have brought it to a deci­sion. In the present instance, you will have no such opposi­tion to contend with. If there be a judge, or a lawyer of any note in Westminster-hall, who shall be daring enough to affirm, that, according to the true intendment of the laws of England, a selon, taken with the [...], is [...] delicts, is bailable; or that the discretion of an English judge is merely arbitrary, and not governed by rules of law;—I should be glad to be acquainted with him. Whoever he be. I will take care that he shall not give you much trouble. Your Lord­ship's character assures me that you will assume that principal part, which belongs to you, in supporting the laws of England against a wicked judge, who makes it the occupation of his life to misinterpret and pervert them, If you decline this honourable office, I fear it will be said, that for some mouths past, you have kept too much company wit the Duke of Graston. When the contest turns upon the interpretation of the laws, you cannot, without a formal surrender of all your reputation, yield the post of honour even to Lord Chatham. Considering the situation and abilities of Lord Manssield, I do not scruple to affirm, with the most solemn appeal to God for my sincerity, that, in my judgment, he is the very worst and most dangerous man in the kingdom. Thus far I have done my duty in endeavouring to bring him to punishment. But mine is an inserior, ministerial office in the temple of justice: I have hound the victim and dragged him to the altar.

THE Reverend Mr. John Horne having, with his usual veracity and honest industry, circulated a report that Junius, in a letter to the Supporters of the Bill of Rights, had warmly declared himself in favour of long Parliaments and rotten boroughs, it is thought necessary to submit to the pub­lic the following extract from his letter to John Wilkes, Esq. dated the 7th of Septembe 1771, and laid before the Soci­ety on the 24th of the same month.

‘“With regard to the several articles, taken [...], I own I am concerned to see, that the great common which [Page 281]ought to be the sine [...] of parliamentary qualification, which ought to be the basis (as it assuredly will be the only support) of every harrier raised in defence of the constitu­tion. I mean a declaration upon eath in shorten the daration of Parliaments, is reduced to the fourth rank in the esteem of the society; and, even in that place, far from being insisted on with firmness and vehemence, seems to have been parti­cularly slighted in the expression. You shall and [...] to re­stive annual Parliaments!—Are these terms which men, who are in earnest, make use of, when the solus respublica is at stake?—I expected other language from Mr. Wilkes. Besides my objection in point of form, I desapprove high­ly of the meaning of the fourth article as it stands, When­ever the question shall be seriously agitated, I will enden­vour (and if I live will assuredly attempt it) to convince the English nation, by arguments to my understanding unan­swerable, that they ought to insist upon a triennial, and banish the idea of an annual Parliament...... I am convinced, that, if shortening the duration of Parliaments (which in effect is keeping the representative under the rod of the constituent) be not made the basis of our new parliamentary jurisprudence, other checks or improvements fignisy nothing. On the contrary, if this be made the sounadation, other measures may come in aid, and, as aux­iliaries, be of considerable advantage. Lord Chatham's project, for instance, of increasing the number of knights of shires, appears to me admirable........ As to cutting away the rotten boroughs, I am as much offended as any man at seeing so many of them under the direct in­fluence of the crown, or at the disposal of private persons. Yet, I own, I have both doubts and apprehensions in re­gard to the remedy you propose. I shall be charged, per­haps, with an unusual want of political intrepidity, when honestly consess to you, that I am startled at the idea of so extensive an amputation.—In the first place, I question the power, de jure, of the legislature to disfranchise a a number of boroughs, upon the general ground of im­proving the constitution. There cannot be a doctriue more satal to the liberty and property we are contending for, than that which consounds the idea or cuprums and an arbitrary legislature. I need not point out to you the fatal porposes to which it has been, and may be, applied. [Page 282]If we are sincere in the political creed we profess, there are many things which we ought to affirm cannot be one by King, Lords, and Commons, Among these I reckon the disfranchising of boroughs with a general view of im­provement. I consider it as equivalent to robbing the par­ties concerned, of their freehold, of their birthright. I say, that although this birthright may be forfeited. or the exercise of it suspended in particular cases, it cannot be taken away by a general law, for any real or pretended purpose of improving the constitution. Supposing the at­tempt made, I am persuaded you cannot mean that either King, or Lords, should take an active part in it. A bill, which only touches the representation of the people, must originate in the House of Commons. In the formation and mode of passing it, the exclusive right of the com­mons must be afferted as scrupulously as in the case of a money-bill. Now, Sir, I should be glad to know by what kind of reasoning it can be proved, that there is a power vested in the representative to destroy his immediate con­stituent? Form whence could be possibly derive it? A courtier, I know, will be ready to maintain the affirma­tive. The doctrine suits him exactly, because it gives an unlimited operation to the insluence of the crown. But we, Mr. Wilkes, ought to hold a different language. It is no answer to me to say, that the bill, when it passes the House of Commons, is the act of the majority, and not the representatives of the particular boroughs concern­ed. If the majority can disfranchise ten boroughs, why not twenty, why not the whole kingdom? Why should not they make their own seats in Parliament for life?— When the septennial act passed, the legislature did what, apparently and palpably, they had no power to do: but they did more than what people in general were aware of; they, in effect, disfranchised the whole kingdom for four ”years.’

‘“For argument's sake, I will now suppose that the expe­diency of the treasure and the power of Parliament are un­questionable. Still you will find an insurmountable diffi­culty in the execution. When all your instruments of am­putation are prepared, when the unhappy patient lies bound at your feet without the possibility of resistance, by what infallible rule will you direct the operation? When you [Page 283]propose to cut away the ratt [...]n parts, can you tell us what parts are persectly sound?—Are there any certain limits in fact or theory, to inform you at what point you must stop, at what point the mortification ends? To a man so capable of observation and reslection as you are, it is unnecessary to say all that might be said upon the subject. Besides that I approve highly of Lord Chatham's idea of infusing a por­tion of new health into the constitution, to enable it to bear is in­firmities, (a brilliant expression, and full of intrinsic wis­don,) other reasons concur in persuading me to adopt it. ”I have no objection,’ &c.

The man who fairly and completely answers this argument shall have my thanks and my applause. My heart is already with him.—I am ready to he converted,—I admire his mora­lity, and would gladly subscribe to the articles of his faith.— Grateful to me this reasoning intellect, whatever it is, I hold myself proportionably indebted to him, from whose enlight­ened understanding another ray of knowledge communicates to mine. But neither should I think the most exalted facul­ties of the human mind a gift worthy of he Divinity, nor any assistance in the improvement of them a subject of gra­titude to my fellow-creature, if I were not satissied, that real­ly to inform the understanding corrects and enlarges the heart.