A ^^-• THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES \y' GIFT OF COMMODORE BYRON MCCANDLESS f^ THE OF ^wiri-w^ IKT TWO VOIiUIVIES. Stat nominis umbra. VOL. 1. BAIiTUYCOHI!: W. B. CRAM. JAMES RICE, JR. LOUISVILLE, KY. Wm. Wooddy, Printer. 1834. DA V,! CONTENTS. Page. Enarlish Nation Dedication to the Preface - - _ - - . Letter I. Junius to the Printer cf the Pub. Adv. - II. Sir William Draper's ansv/er III. Junius to sir William Draper IV. Sir William Draper to Junius V. To sir William Draper VI. To Junius from sir William Draper VII. To sir William Draper - VIII. To the duke of Grafton - IX. To the duke of Grafton - X. To Mr. Edward Weston XI. To the duke of Grafton - XII. To the duke of Grafton - XIII. Philo Junius to the Pr. of the Pu.Ad. XIV. Philo Junius to the Pr. of the Pu. Ad. XV. To the duke of Grafton - - - XVI. To the Pr. of the Pub. Ad. XVII. Philo Junius to thePr. of the Pu.Ad. XVIII. To sir William Blackstone - - XIX. Philo Junius to the Pr. of the Pu.Ad. XX. To the Pr. of the Pub. Advertiser XXI. To the Pr. of the Pub. Advertiser XXTI. Philo Junius to the Pr. of thePu.Ad. XXI II. Junius to the duke of Bedford XXIV. Sir William Draper to Junius XXV. Junius to sir William Draper XXVI. Sir William Draper to Junius XXVII. Junius to the Pr. of the Pu. Ad XXVIII. To the Pr. of the Pub. Adv. XXIX. Philo Junius to the Pr. ofthe Pu.Ad. XXX. Junius to the Pr. of the Pu. Ad. XXXI. Philo Junius to the Pr of the Pu. Ad. XXXIT. Junius to the Pr. of the Pu. Adv. XXXni. To the duke of Grafton XXXIV. To the duke of Grafton %XXV= To lh« Fr. of th* Pu. Ad. -. • 5 11 27 39 44 50 57 59 60 64 69 73 75 80 89 92 96 103 109 113 119 128 138 139 144 155 158 162 167 173 174 179 186 191 192 194 li:-8 DEDICATION TO THE ENGLISH NATION. I DEDICATE to you a collection of letters, written by one of yourselves, for the common be- nefit of us all. They would never have grown to this size without your continued encouragement and applause. To me they originally owe noth- ing but a healthy, sanguine constitution. Under your care they have thriven: to you they are in- debted for whatsoever strength or beauty they pos- sess. When kings and ministers are forgotten, when the force and direction of personal satire is no longer understood; and when measures are only felt in their remotest consequences; this book will, I believe, be found to contain principles wor- thy to be transmitted to posterity. When you leave the unimpaired hereditary freehold to your children, you do but half your duty. Both liberty and property are precarious, unless the possessors have sense and spirit enough to defend them. This is not the language of vanity. If I am a vain man, my gratification lies within a narrow circle. I am the sole depository of my own secret, and it shall perish with me. If an honest, and, I may truly affirm, a labori- ous zeal for the public service, has given me any weight in your esteem, let me exhort and conjure VOL. I. 1* DEDICATION. you, never to suffer an invasion of your political constitution, however minute the in- stance may appear, to pass by, without a determined persevering resistance. One pre- cedent creates another. They soon accumulate, and constitute law. What yesterday was fact, to- dayis doctrine. Examplesaresupposedtojustify the most dangerous measures; and where they do not suit exactly, the defect is supplied by analogy. Be assur- ed, thatthe laws, which protect us in our civil rights, grow out of the constitution, and they must fall or flourish with it. This is not the cause of faction, or of party,orof any in dividual, but the common interest of every man in Britain. Although the king should continue to support his present system of Govern- ment, the period is not very distant at which you will have the means of redress in your own power: it may be nearer, perhaps, than any of us expect; and I would warn you to be prepared for it. The king may possibly be advised to dissolve the present parliament a year or two before it expires of course, and precip- itate a new election, in hopes of taking the nation by surprise. If such a measure be in agitation, this very caution may defeat or prevent it. I cannot doubt that you will unanimously assert the freedom of election, and vindicate your exclusive right to choose your representatives. But other questions have been started, on which your deter- mination should be equally clear and unanimous. Let it be impressed upon your minds, let it be in- stilled into your children, that the liberty of the press in the palladium of all the civil, political, and religious rights of an Englishman; and that the right of juries to return a general verdict, in all DEDICATION. 7 cases whatsoever, is an essential part of our con- sittution, not to be controlled or limited by the judges, nor in any shape questionable by the leg- islature. The power of king, lords, and commons, is not an arbitrary power:* they are the trustees, not the owners, of the estate. The fee-simple is m us: they cannot alienate, they cannot waste. When we say that the legislature is supreme, we mean, that it is the highest power known to the constitution; that it is the highest, in compari- son with the other subordinate powers, established by the laws. In this sense, the word supreme is relative, not absolute. The power of the legisa- ture is limited, not only by the general rules of natural justice, and the welfare of the community, but by the forms and principles of our particular constitution. If this doctrine be not true, we must * The positive denial of an arbitrary power being vested in the legislature, is not, in fact, a nev/ doctrine. When the earl of Lindsay, in the year 1675, brought in a bill into the house of lords, "To prevent the dan- gers which might arise from persons disaffected to gov- ernment," by which an oath and penalty was to be imposed upon the members of both houses; it was af- firmed, in a protest, signed by twenty-three lay peers, (my lords the bishops were not accustomed to protest,) "That the privilege of sitting- and voting in parliament was an honour they had by birth, and a right so in- herent in them, and inseparable from them, that nothing could take it away, but what, by the law of the land, must, withal take away their lives, and corrupt their blood." These noble ])eers, whose names are a reproach to their posterity, have, in this instance, solemnly denied the power of parliament to alter the constitution. Under a particular proposition, they have asserted a general truth, in which every man in Eng- land is concerned. 8 DEDICATION. admit that king, lords, and commons, have no rule to direct their resolutions, but merely their own will and pleasure: they might unite the legislature and executive power in the same hands, and dis- solve the constitution by an act of parliament. But I am persuaded you will not leave it to the choice of seven hundred persons, notoriously corrupted by the crown, whether seven millions of their equals shall be free men or slaves. The certainty of forfeiting their own rights, when they sacrifice those of the nation, is no check to a brutal, degenerate mind. Without insisting upon the extravagant concession made to Harry the Eighth, there are instances, in the history of other countries, of a formal, deliberate surrender of the public liberty into the hands of the sovereign. If England does not share the same fa>te, it is because we have better resources than in the virtue of either house of parliament. I said, that the liberty of the press is the pal- ladium of all your rights, and that the right of the juries to return a general verdict, is part of your constitution. To preserve the whole system, you must correct your legislature. With regard to any influence of the constituent over the conduct of the representative, there is little difference be- tween a seat in parliament for seven years and a seat for life. The prospect of your resentment is too remote; and, although the last session of a septennial parliament be usually employed in courting the favour of the people; consider, that at this rate, your representatives have six years for offence, and but one for atonement. A death- bed repentance seldom reaches to restitution. If DEDICATION. 9 you reflect, that in the changes of administration which have marked and disgraced the present reign, although your warmest patriots have, in their turn, been invested with the lawful and un- lawful authority of the crown, and though other reliefs or improvements have been held forth to the people, yet that no one man in office has ever promoted or encouraged a bill for shortening the duration of parliaments, but that (whoever was minister) the opposition to this measure, ever since the septennial act passed, has been constant and uniform on the part of government — you cannot but conclude, without the possibihty of a doubt, that long parliaments are the foundation of the un- due influence of the crown. This influence an- swers every purpose of arbitrary power to the crown, with an expense and oppression to the people, which would be unnecessary in an arbit- rary government. The best of our ministers find it the easiest and most compendious mode of con- ducting the king's affairs; and all ministers have a general interest in adhering to a system, which, of itself, is sufficient to support them in office, without anj)- assistance from personal virtue, pop- ularity, labour, abilities, or experience. It prom- ises every gratification to avarice and ambition, and secures impunity. These are truths unques- tionable; if they make no impression, it is because they are too vulgar and notorious. But the inat- tention or indifference of the nation has continued too long. You are roused at last to a sense of your danger: the remedy will soon be in your power. If Junius lives, you shall often be remind- ed of it. If, when the opportunity presents itself, 10 DEDICATION. you neglect to do your duty to yourselves and to posterity, to God and to your country, I shall have one consolation left, in common with the meanest and basest of mankind: Civil liberty may still last the life of JUNIUS. PREFACE. THE encouragement given to a multitude of spurious, mangled publications of the "Letters of Junius," persuades me, that a complete edition, corrected and improved by the author, will be favourably received. The printer will readily acquit me of any view to my own profit. I un- dertake this troublesome task merely to serve a maa who has deserved well of me and of the pub- lic: and who, on my account, has been exposed to an expensive, tyrannical prosecution. For these reasons, I give to Mr. Henry Sampson Woodfall, and to him alone, my right, interest, and property, in these letters, as fully and completely, to all in- tents and purposes, as an author can possibly con- vey his property in his own works to another. This edition contains all the letters of Junius, Philo Junius, and of Sir William Draper and Mr. Home to Junius, with their respective dates, and according to the order in which they appeared in the Public Advertiser. The auxiliary part of Philo Junius was indispensably necessary to de- fend or explain particular passages in Junius, in answer to plausible objections; but the subordinate character is never guilty of the indecorum of praising his principal. The fraud was innocent, and I always intended to explain it. The notes will be found not only useful but necessary. Ref- 12 ^ PREFACE. erences to facts not generally known or allusions to the current report or opinion of the day, are, in a little time, unintelligible: yet the reader will not find himself overloaded with explanations: I was not born to be a commentator, even upon my own works. It remains to say a few words upon the liberty of the press. The daring spirit by which these letters are supposed to be distinguished, seems to require that something serious should be said in their defence. I am no lawyer by profession, nor do I pretend to be more deeply read than every English gentleman should be, in the laws of his country. If, therefore, the principles I maintain are truly constitutional, I shall not think myself answered, though I should be convicted of a mistake in terms, or misapplying the language of the law. I speak to the plain understanding of the people, and appeal to their honest, liberal con- struction of me. Good men, to whom alone I address myself, ap- pear to me to consult their piety as little as their judgment and experience, when they admit the great and essential advantages accruing to society from the freedom of the press, yet indulge them- selves in peevish or passionate exclamations against the abuses of it. Betraying an unreason- able expectation of benefits, pure and entire from any human institution, they, in effect, arraign the goodness of Providence, and confess that they are dissatisfied with the common lot of humanity. In the present instance, they really create to their own minds, or greatly exaggerate the evil they complain of. The laws of England provide as PREFCAE. 13 etfectually as any human laws can do for the pro- tection of the subject, in his reputation, as well as in his person and property. If the characters of private men are insulted or injured, a double rem- edy is opened to them by action and indictment: if, through indolence, false shame, or indifference, they will not appeal to the laws of their country, they fail in their duty to society, and are unjust to themselves: if, from an unwarrantable distrust of the integrity of juries, they would wish to obtain justice by any mode of proceeding more summary than a trial by their peers, I do not scruple to af- firm, that they are in effect, greater enemies to themselves than to the libeller they prosecute. With regard to strictures upon the characters of men in office, and the measures of government, the case is a little different. A considerable lati- tude must be allowed in the discussion of public affairs, or the liberty of the press will be of no benefit to society. As the indulgence of private malice and personal slander should be checked and resisted by every legal means, so a constant examination into the characters and conduct of mmisters and magistrates should be equally pro- moted and encouraged. They who conceive that our newspapers are no restraint upon bad men, or impediment to the execution of bad measures, know nothing of this country. In that state of abandoned servility and prostitution, to which the undue influence of the crown has reduced the other branches of the legislature, our ministers and magistrates have, in reality, little punishment to fear, and few difficulties to contend with beyond VOL. I. 2 14 PREFACE. the censure of the press, and the spirit of resisi-s ance which it excites among the people. While this censorial power is maintained, (to speak in the words of a most ingenious foreigner) both min^ ister and magistrate are compelled in almost every instance to choose between his duty and his reputation. A dilemma of this kind perpetually before him, will not, indeed, work a miracle on his heart, but it will assuredly operate, in some degree, upon his conduct. At all events, these are not times to admit of any relaxation in the little dis- cipline we have left. But it is alleged, that the licentiousness of the press is carried beyond all bounds of decency and truth; that our excellent ministers are continually exposed to the public hatred or derision; that in prosecutions for libels on government, juries are partial to the popular side: and that, in the most flagrant cases, a verdict cannot be obtained for the king. If the premises were admitted, I should deny the conclusion. It is not true that the tem- per of the times has in general an undue influence over the conduct of juries: on the contrary, many signal instances may be produced of verdicts re- turned for the king, when the inclinations of the people led strongly to an undistinguished opposi- tion to government. Witness the cases of Mr. Wilkes and Mr. Almon. In the late prosecution ofthe printers of my addess to a great personage, the juries were never fairly dealt with. Lord chief justice Mansfield, conscious that the paper in question contained no treasonable or libellous matter, and that the severest parts of it, however painful to the king or offensive to his servants,. PREFACE. 15 were strictly true, would fain have restricted the jury to the finding of special facts, which, as to guilty or not guilty were merely indifferent. This particular motive, combined with his general pur- pose to contract the power of juries, will account for the charge he delivered in Woodfall's trial. He told the jury, in so many words, that they had nothing to determine, except the fact of printing and publishing, and whether or no the blanks or inuendoes were properly filled up in the informa- tion; but that, whether the defendant had commit- ted a crime or not, was no matter of consideration to twelve men, who yet, upon their oaths, were to pronounce their peer guilty or not guilty. When we hear such nonsense delivered from the bench, and find it supported by a laboured train of sophistry, which a plain understanding is una- ble to follow, and which an unlearned jury, how- ever it may shock their reason, cannot be sup- posed qualified to refute, can it be wondered that they should return a verdict perplexed, absurd, or imperfect? Lord Mansfield has not yet ex- plained to the world, why he accepted of a ver- dict which the court afterwards set aside as illegal; and which, as it took no notice of the inuendoes, did not even correspond with his own charge. If he had known his own duty, he should have sent the jury back. I speak advisedly, and am well assured, that no lawyer of character, in West- minster-hall, will contradict me. To show the falsehood of lord Mansfield's doctrine, it is not ne- cessary to enter into the merits of the paper which produced the trial. If every line of it were trea- son, his charge to the jury would still be false. 16 PREFACE. absurd, illegal, and unconstitutional. If I stated the merits of my letter to the king, I should im- itate lord Mansfield, and travel* out of the record. *The following quotation from a speech delivered by lord Chatham, on the 11th of December, 1770, is taken with exactness. The reader will find it curious in itself, and very fit to be inserted here. "My lords, the verdict given in Woodfall's trial was, 'guilty of printing and publishing only;' upon which two motions were made in court; one, in arrest of judgment, by the defendant's counsel, grounded upon the ambiguity of the verdict; the other, by tlrC counsel for the crown, for a rule upon the defendant, to show cause why the verdict should not be entered up according to the legal import of the words. On both motions a rule was granted; and soon after the matter was argued before the court of king's bench. The noble judge, when he delivered the opinion of the court upon the verdict, went regularly through the whole of the proceedings at Nisi Prius, as well the ev- idence that had been given, as his own charge to the jury. This proceeding would have been very proper, had a motion been mode on either side for a new trial; because either a verdict given contrary to evidence, or improper charge by the judge, at Nisi Prius, is held to be a sufficient ground for granting a new trial. But when a motion is made in arrest of judgment, or for es- tablishing the verdict, by entering it up according to the legal import of the words, it must be on the ground of something appearing on the face of the record; and the court, in considering whether the verdict shall be estab- lished or not, are so confined to the record, that they cannot take any notice of any thing thatdoes not appear on the face of it; in the legal phrase, they cannot travel out of the record. The noble judge did travel out of the record; and I affirm, that his discourse was irregular, extrajudicial, and unprecedented. His apparent mo- tive for doing what he knew to be wrong, was that he might have an opportunity of telling the public extraju- dicially, that the other three judges concurred in the doctrine laid down in bis charge." PREFACE. 17 When law and reason speak plainly, we do not want, authority to direct our understandings. Yet, for the honour of the profession, I am content to oppose one lawyer to another; especially when it happens that the king's attorney-general has vir- tually disclaimed the doctrine by which the chief justice meant to ensure success to the prosecution. The opinion of the plaintiff's counsel (however it may be otherwise insignificant) is weighty in the scale of the defendant. My lord chief justice de Grey, who filed the information ex officio, is di- rectly with me. If* he had concurred in lord Mans- field's doctrine, the trial must have been a very ^hortone. The facts were either admitted by Wood- fall's counsel, or easily proved to the satisfaction of the jury; but Mr. de Grey, far from thinking he should acquit himself of his duty, by barely ■proving the facts, entered largely, and I confess, not without ability, into the demerits of the paper, which he called a seditious libel. He dwelt but lightly upon those points which (according to lord Mansfield) v/ere the only matter of consideration to the jury. The criminal intent, the libellous matter, the pernicious tendency of the paper itself, were the topics on which he principally insisted, and of which, for more than an hour, he tortured his faculties to convince the jury. If he agreed in opinion with lord Mansfield, his discourse was impertinent, ridiculous, and unreasonable. But understanding the law as I do, what he said was at least consistent, and to the purpose. If any honest man should still be inclined to leave the construction of libels to the court, I would entreat him to consider what a dreadful VOL. 1. 2* 18 PREFACE. complication of hardships he imposes upon his fel- low subjects. In the first place, the prosecution commences by information of an ojfficer of the crown, not by the regular constitutional mode of indictment before a grand jury. As the fact is usually admitted, or, in general can easily be proved, the office of the petty jury is nugatory: the court then judges of the nature and extent of the offence, and determines, ad arbitrium, the quantum of the punishment, from a small fine to a heavy one, to repeated whipping, to pillory, and unlimited imprisonment. Cutting off ears and noses might still be inflicted by a resolute judge: but I will be candid enough to suppose that penal- ties, so apparently shocking to humanity, would not be hazarded in these times. In all other cri- minal prosecutions the jury decides upon the fact and the crime in one word, and the court pro- nounces a certain sentence which is the sentence of the law, not of the judge. If lord Mansfield's doctrine be received, the jury must either find a verdict of acquittal, contrary to evidence, which, I can conceive, might be done by very conscien- tious men, rather than trust a fellow-creature to lord Mansfield's mercy; or they must leave to the court two offices, never but in this instance united, of finding guilty, and awarding punish- ment. "But," says this honest lord chief justice, "if the paper be not criminal, the defendant (though found guilty by his peers) is in no danger, for he may move the court in arrest of judgment." True, my good lord; but who is to determine upon the motion? Is not the court still to decide, whether PREFACE. 19 judgment shall be entered up or not? and is not the defendant this way as effectually deprived of judgment by his peers, as if he were tried in a court of civil law, or in the chambers of the inqui- sition? It is you, my lord, who then try the crime, not the jury. As to the probable effect of the motion in arrest of judgment, I shall only observe, that no reasonable man would be so eager to pes- sess himself of the invidious power of inflicting punishment, if he were not predetermined to make use of it. Again, we are told that judge and jury have a distinct ofRce; that the jury is to find the fact, ■and the judge to dehver the law. "De jure res- pondent judices, de facto jurati." The dictum is true, though not in the sense given to it by lord Mansfield. The jury are undoubtedly to deter- mine the fact; that is, whether the defendant did or did not commit the crime charged against him. The judge pronounces the sentence annexed by law to that fact so found; and if, in the course of the trial, any question of law arises, both the coun- sel and the jury must, of necessity, appeal to the judge, and leave it to his decision. An excep- tion, or plea in bar, may be allowed by the court; but, when issue is joined, and the jury have re- ceived their charge, it is not possible, in the na- ture of things, for them to separate the law from the fact, unless they think proper to return a spe- cial verdict. It has also been alleged, that, although a com- mon jury are sufficient to determine a plain mat- ter of fact, they are not qualified to comprehend the meaning, or to judge of the tendency of a se- 20 PREFACE. ditious libel. In answer to this objection, (which/ if well founded, would prove nothing as to the' strict right of returning a general verdict) I might safely deny the truth of this assertion. Enghsh- men, of that rank from which juries are usually taken, are not so illiterate as (to serve a particu- lar purpose) they are now represented: or, admit- ting the fact, let a special jury be summoned in all cases of difficulty and importance, and the objec- tion is removed. But the truth is, that if a paper, supposed to be a libel upon government, be so obscurely worded, that twelve common men can- not possibly see the seditious meaning and tenden- cy of it, it is in effect no libel. It cannot inflame the minds of the people, nor alienate their affec- tions from government; for they no more under- stand what it means, than if it were publlslied in a language unknown to them. Upon the whole matter, it appears, to my un- derstanding, clear, beyond a doubt, that, if, in any future prosecution for a seditious libel, the jury should bring in a verdict of acquittal, not warrant- ed by the evidence, it will be owing to the false and absurd doctrines laid down by lord Mansfield. Disgusted at the odious artifices made use of by the judge to mislead and perplex them, guarded against his sophistry, and convinced of the false- hood of his assertions, that may, perhaps, deter- mine to thwart his detestable purpose, and defeat him at any rate. To him, at least, they will do substantial justice. Whereas, if the whole charge laid in the information be fairly and honestly sub- mitted to the jury, there is no reason whatsoever to presume that twelve men, upon their oaths, will PREFACE. 21 not decide impartially between the king and the defendant. The numerous instances, in our state trials, of verdicts recovered for the king, suffici- ently refute the false and scandalous imputations thrown, by the abettors of lord Mansfield, upon the integrity of juries. But, even admitting the supposition, that, in times of universal discontent, arising from the notorious mal-administration of public affairs, a seditious writer should escape punishment, it makes nothing against my general argument. If juries are fallible, to what other tribunal shall we appeal? If juries cannot safely be trusted, shall we unite the offices of judge and jury, so wisely divided by the constitution, and trust implicitly to lord Mansfield? Are the judges of the court of king's bench more likely to be un- biassed and impartial than twelve yeomen, bur- gesses, or gentlemen, taken indifferently from the country at large? Or, in short, shall there be no decision, until we have instituted a tribunal from which no possible abuse or inconvenience whatso- ever can arise? If I am not grossly mistaken, these questions carry a decisive answer along with them. Having cleared the freedom of the press from a restraint equally unnecessary and illegal, I return to the use which has been made of it in the pre- sent publication. National reflections, I confess, are not justified in theory, nor upon any general principles. To know how well they are deserved, and how justly they have been applied, we must have the evi- dence of facts before us. We must be convers- ant with the Scots in private life, and observe 22 PREFACE. iheir principles of acting to us and to each othei'j the characteristic prudence, the selfish nationality, the indefatigable smile, the persevering assiduity, the everlasting profession of a discreet and mode- rate resentment. If the mstance were not too important for an experiment, it might not be amiss to confide a little in their integrity. Without any abstract reasoning upon causes and effects, we shall soon be convinced, by experience, that the Scots, transplanted from their own country, are always a distinct and separate body from the peo- pie who receive them. In other settlements, they only love themselves: in England they cordially love themselves, and as cordially hate their neigh- bors. For the remainder of their good qualities I must appeal to the reader's observation, unless he will accept of my lord Harrington's authority in a letter to the late lord Malcombe, published by Mr. Lee: he expresses himself with a truth and accuracy not very common in his lordship's lucubrations. "And Cockburn, Uke most of his countrymen, is as abject to those above him, as he is insolent to those below him." I am far from meaning to impeach the articles of the union. If the true spirit of those articles were religiously adhered to, we should not see such a multitude- of Scotch commoners in the lower house, as repre- sentatives of English boroughs, while not a single Scotch borough is ever represented by an En- glishman; we should not see English peerages given to Scotch ladies, or to the elder sons of Scotch peers, and the number of sixteen doubled and trebled by a scandalous evasion of the act of union. If it should ever be thought advisable to PREFACE. 23 clissolve an act, the violation or observance of which is invariably directed by the advantage and interest of the Scots, I shall say very sincerely, with Sir Edward Coke,* "When poor England stood alone, and had not the access of another kingdom, and yet had more and as potent enemies as it now hath, yet the king of England prevailed." Some opinion may now be expected from me, upon a point of equal delicacy to the Writer, and hazard to the printer. When the character of the chief magistrate is in question, more must be understood than may be safely expressed* If it be really a part of our constitution, and not a mere dictum of the law, that the king can do no wrong, it is not the only instance, in the wisest of human institutions, where theory is at variance with practice. That the sovereign of this coun- try is not amenable to any form of trial known to the laws, is unquestionable: but exemption from punishment is a singular privilege annexed to the royal character, and no way excludes the possi- bility of deserving it. How long, and to what ex- tent, a king of England may be protected by the forms, when he violates the spirit of the constitu- tion, deserves to be considered. A mistake in this matter proved fatal to Charles and his son. For my own part, far from thinking that the king can do no wrong, far from suffering myself to be deterred or imposed upon by the language of forms, in opposition to the substantial evidence of truth; if it were my misfortune to live under the inauspicious reign of a prince, whose whole life was employed in one base, contemptible struggle * Parliamentary History, vol. ii. p. 4J0. 24 PREFACE. with the free spirit of his people, or in the detest- able endeavor to corrupt their moral principles, I would not scruple to declare to him, "Sir, you alone are the author of the greatest wrong to your subjects and to yourself. Instead of reigning in the hearts of your people, instead of commanding their lives and fortunes through the medium of their affections; has not the strength of the crown, whether influence or prerogative, been uniformly exerted, for eleven years together, to support a narrow, pitiful system of government which de- feats itself, and answers no one purpose of real power, profit, or personal satisfaction to you? With the greatest unappropriated revenue ot any prince in Europe, have we not seen you reduced to such vile and sordid distresses, as would have conducted any other man to a prison? With a great military, and the greatest naval power in the known world, have not foreign nations repeat- edly insulted you with impunity? Is it not notori- ous that the vast revenues, extorted from the labor and industry of your subjects, and given you to do honor to yourself and to the nation, are dissipated in corrupting their representatives? Are you a prince of the house of Hanover, and do you ex- clude all the leading Whig families from your councils? Do you profess to govern according to law, and is it consistent with that profession to im^ part your confidence and affection to those men only who, though now, perhaps, detached from the desperate cause of the pretender, are marked in this country by an hereditary attachment to high and arbitrary principles of government? Are you so infatuated as to take the sense of your PREFACE. 25 people from the representation of ministers, or from the shouts of a mob, notoriously hired to surround your coach, or stationed at a theatre? And if you are, in reality, that public man, that king, that magistrate, which these questions sup- pose you to be, is it any answer to your people, to say, that among your domestics you are good- humoured, that to one lady you are faithful, that to your children you are indulgent? Sir, the man who addresses you in these terms, is your best friend: he would willingly hazard his life in de- fence of your title to the crown; and, if power be your object, will still show you how possible it is for a king of England, by the noblest means, to be the most absolute prince in Europe. You have no enemies, sir, but those who persuade you to aim at power without right, and who think it flat- tery to tell you, that the character of king dis- solves the natural relation between guilt and pun- ishment." I cannot conceive that there is a heart so cal- lous, or an understanding so depraved, as to at- tend to a discourse of this nature, and not to feel the force of it. But where is the man, among those who have access to the closet, resolute and honest enough to deliver it? The liberty of the press is our only resource: it will command an audience when every honest man in the kingdom is excluded. This glorious privilege may be a security to the king as well as a resource to his people. Had there been no star-chamber, there would have been no rebellion against Charles the First. The constant censure and admonition of VOL. I. 3 26 PREFACE. the press would have corrected his conduct, pre* vented a civil war, and saved him from an igno- minious death. I am no friend to the doctrine of precedents, exclusive of right; though lawyers often tell us, that whatever has been once done may lawfully be done again. I shall conclude this preface with a quotation, applicable to the subject, from a foreign writer,* whose Essay on the English Constitution I beg leave to recom- mend to the public, as a performance deep, solid, and ingenious. "In short, whoever considers what it is that constitutes the moving principle of what we call great affairs, and the invincible sensibility of man to the opinion of his fellow-creatures, will not hesitate to affirm, that if it were possible for the liberty of the press to exist in a despotic govern- ment, and (what is not less difficult) for it to exist without changing the constitution, this liberty of the press would alone form a counterpoise to the power of the prince. If, for example, in an em- pire of the East, a sanctuary could be found, which, rendered respectable by the ancient reh- gion of the people, might ensure safety to those who should bring thither their observations of any kind; and that, from thence, printed papers should issue, which, under a certain seal, might be equal- ly respected, and which, in their daily appearance, should examine and freely discuss the conduct of the cadis, the bashaws, the vizir, the divan, and the sultan himself; that would introduce immedi- ately some degree of liberty." * Monsieur de Lolme. LETTERS OF JUNIUS. • LETTER 1. Addressed to tJie Printer of the Public Advertiser* SIR, January 21, 1769. THE subrhission of a free people to the ex- ecutive authority of government, is no more than a compliance with laws which they themselves have enacted. While the national honor is firmly maintained abroad, and while justice is impartial- ly administered at home, the obedience of the sub- ject will be voluntary, cheerful, and, I might al- most say, unlimited. A generous nation is grate- ful 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 28 JUNIUS. that Englishmen have erred as much in a mista- ken 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 hoiv long they ought to have submitted, and at what m-oment it would have been treachery to themselves not to have resisted. How much warmer will be our resentment, if ex- perience 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 vvhen 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 goverment, that, to be acquainted with the merit of a minis- try, 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 expe- rience, abilities, and virtue, ff, on the contrary, we see an universal spirit ot distrust and dissatis- JUNIUS. 29 faction, 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 cer- tain point. Ill usage may rouse their indignation, and hurry them into excesses; but the original fault is in government. Perhaps there never was an instance of a change in the circumstances and temper of a whole nation so sudden and extraor- dinary 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 flourishing 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 un- doubtebly 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 teach- erous amusement of double and triple negotiations. No, sir, it arose from a continued anxiety, in the purest of all possible hearts, for the general wel- fare. Unfortunately for us, the event has not been answerable to the design. After a rapid succession of changes, we are reduced to the t state VOL. I. 3* 30 JUNIUS. 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 con- currence of calamitous circumstances; it is the pernicious hand of government which alone can make a whole people desperate. Without much political sagacity, or'any extra- ordinary depth of observation, we need only mark how the principal departments of the state are be- stowed, and look no farther for the true cause of every mischief that befalls us. The *finances of a nation, sinking under its debts and expenses, 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 re- treat, he became minister by accident: but de- serting the principles and professions which gave him a moment's popularity, we see him from every honorable engagement to the public, an apostate by design. As for business, the world yet knows nothing of his talents or resolution; unless a way- ward, wavering inconsistency be a mark of genius, and caprice a demonstration of spirit. It may be * The duke of Grafton took the ofl&ce of secretary of state, with an engagement to support the marquis of Rockingham's administration. He resigned, however, in a Httle time, under pretence that he could not act without lord Chatham, nor bear to see Mr. Wilkes abandoned; but that under lord Chatham, he would act in any office. This was the signal of lord Rocking- ham's dismission. When lord Chatham came in, the duke got possession of the treasury. Reader, mark the consequence! JUNIUS. 31 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 that while lord North is chancellor of the exchequer, the first lord of the treasury may be as thoughtless and ex- travagant as he pleases. T 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 as- tonish the world, when we least expect it, with a knowledge of trade, a choice of expedients, and a depth of resources, equal to the necessities, and far beyond the hope 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 formed, no system ad- hered to, nor any one important measure adopted for the relief of public credit. If his plan for the service of the current year be not irrevocably fixed on, let me warm him to think seriously of consequences, before he ventures to increase the public debt. Outraged and oppressed as we are, this nation will not bear, after a six years' peace, to see new millions borrowed, without an even- tual diminution of debt, or reduction of interest. The attempt might rouse a spirit of resentment which might reach beyond the sacrifice of a min- ister. As to the debt upon the civil list, the peo- ple of England expect that it will not be paid without a strict inquiry how it was incurred. If it must be paid by parliament, let me advise the chancellor of the exchequer to think of some bet. 32 JUNIUS. ter expedient than a lottery. To support an ex- pensive war, or in circumstances of absolute ne- cessity, 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, can- not be more disgraced than it has been. A lead- ing minister* repeatedly called down for absolute ignorance, ridiculous motions ridiculously with- drawn, deliberate plans disconcerted, and a week's preparation of graceful oratory lost in a moment, give us some, though not adequate ideas, of lord North's parliamentary abilities and influence. Yet, before he had the misfortune of being chan- cellor of the exchequer, he was neither an object of derision to his enemies, nor of melancholy 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, he felt the impossibility of Great Britain's supporting such an establishment, as her former successes had made indispensable, and at the same time of giving any sensible relief to for- eign trade, and to the weight of the public debt. He thought it equitable, that those parts of the empire which had benefited most by the expenses of the war, should contribute something to the •This happened frequently to poor lord North. JUNIUS. 83 expenses of the peace, and he had no doubt of the constitutional right vested in parliament to raise the contribution. But, unfortunately for his country, Mr. Grenville, was at any rate to be distressed, because he was minister; and Mr. Pitt* and lord Camden were to be the patrons of Amer- ica, because they were in opposition. Their declamation gave spirit and argument to the colo- nies; and while, perhaps, they meant no more than the ruin of a minister, they, in effect, divi- ded 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 revived which ought to have been buried in obli- vion. In these circumstances a new office is es- tablished for the business of the plantations, and the earl of Hillsborough called forth, at a most critical season, to govern America . The choice, at least, announced to us a man of superior capa- city and knowledge. Whether he be so or not, let his despatches, as far as they have appeared, let his measures, as far as they have operated, determine for him. In the former we have seen strong assertions without proof, declamation with- out argument, and violent censures without digni- ty or moderation; but neither correctness in the composition, nor judgment in the design. As for his measures, let it be remembered, that he was call- ed upon to conciliate and unite; and that, when * Vet Junius has been called the partisan of lord Chatham, 34 JUNIUS. he entered into office, the most refractory of the colonies were still disposed to proceed by the con- stitutional methods ot petition and remonstrance. Since that period they have been driven into excesses little short of rebellion. Petitions have been hin- dered from reaching the throne; and the continu- ance of one of the principal assembles rested up- on an arbitrary condition,* 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, if it had been complied with. So violent, and, I beheve, I may call it, so unconstitutional, an exertion of the pre- rogative, to say nothing of the weak, injudicious terms in which it was conveyed, gives us as hum- ble 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 Hillsborough's measures in America. When- ever that force shall be neccessarily withdraw or diminished, the dismission of such a minister will neither console us for his imprudence, nor re- move the settled resentment of a people, who, complaining of an act of the legislature, are out- raged by an unwarrantable stretch of prerogative; and, supporting their claims by argument, are in- sulted with declamation. Drawing lots would be a prudent and reasona- ble method of appointing the officers of state, com- pared to a late disposition ofthe secretary's office. * That Ihey should retract one of their resolutions, and erase the entry of it. JUNIUS. 35 Lord Rochford was acquainted with the affairs and temper of the southern courts; lord Wey- mouth was equally qualified for either depart- ment:* by what unaccountable caprice has it happened, that the latter, who pretends to no ex- perience whatsoever, is removed to the most impor- tant of the two departments; and the former, by preference, placed in an office where his experi- ence 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. Re- covered from the errors of his youth, from the distraction of play and the bewitching 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 ex- cesses, nor ignorance of the laws, nor the furious spirit of the house of Bedford; no, sir, when this respectable mniister interposed his authority be^ tween the magistrate and the people, and signed ~~ the mandate, on which for aught he knew, the ' lives of thousand depended, he did it from the I deliberate motion of his heart, supported by the best of his judgment. It has lately been a fashion to pay a compli- ment to the bravery and generosity of the com- * It was pretended that the earl of Rochford, while ambassador in France, had quarrelled with the duke ofChoiseul; and that, therefore, he was appointed to the northern department, out of compliment to the French minister. 36 JUNIUS. mander-in-chief^* at the expense of his under- standing. They who love him least make no question of his courage, while his friends dwell chiefly on the facility of his disposition. Admit- ting him to be as brave as a total absence of all feeling and reflection can make him, let us see what sort of merit he derives from the remainder of his character. If it be generosity to accumu- late, in his own person and family, a number of lucrative employments; to provide, at the public expense, for every creature that bears the name of Manners; and, neglecting the merit and ser- vices of the rest of the army, to heap promotions upon his favorites and dependents; the present commander-in-chief is the most generous man ahve. Nature has been sparing of her gifts to this noble lord; but where birth- and fortune are united, we expect the noble pride and indepen- dence of a man of spirit, not the servile humili- ating complaisance of a courtier. As to the good- ness of his heart, if a proof of it be taken from the facility ol never refusing, what conclusion shall we draw 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 filling 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 expense should be spared to se- cure to him an honourable and affluent retreat. '^The late lord Granby. JUNIUS. 37 The pure and impartial administration of justice is, perhaps, the firmest bond to secure a cheerful submission of the people, and to engage their af- fections to government. It is not sufficient that questions of private right or wrong are justly de- cided, 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 af- fects the whole community. A judge, under the influence of government, 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 offer himself to perform the sacrifice: he will not scruple to prostitute his dignity, and betray the sanctity of his office, when- ever an arbitrary point is to be carried for govern- ment, or the resentment of a court to be gratified. TJiese principles and proceedings, odious and contemptible as they are, in effect are no less in- judicious. A wise and generous people are rous- ed by every appearance of oppressive, unconstitu- tional measures, whether those measures are sup- ported only by the power of government, or masked under the forms of a court of justice. Prudence and self-presevation will oblige the most moderate dispositions to make common cause, even with a man v.'hose conduct they cen- sure, if they see him persecuted in a way which the real spirit of the laws will not justify. The VOL I. 4 38 JUNIUS. facts on which these remarks are founded are too notorious to require an application. This, sir, is the detail. In one view behold a nation overwhelmed with debt; her revenues wasted, her trade declining, the affections of her colonies alienated; the duty of the magistrate transferred to the soldiery; a gallant army, which never fought unwillingly but against their fpllow- subjects, mouldering away for want of the direc- tion 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 coun- sels from which a reasonable man can expect no remedy but poison; no relief but death. If, by the immediate interposition of Provi- dence, it were possible for us to escape a crisis so full of terror and despair, posterity will not believe the history of the present times. They will either conclude that our distresses were ima- ginary, or that we had the good fortune to be gov- erned by men of acknowledged integrity and wis- dom: they will not believe it possible, that their an- cestors could have survived or recovered from so desperate a condition, while a duke of Grafton was prime minister, a lord North chancellor of the exchequer; a Weymouth and a Hillsborough sec- retaries of state; a Granby commander-in-chief; and a Mansfield chief criminal judge of the king- dom. JUNIUS. JUNIUS. 39 LETTER II. To the Printer of tlie PuUic Advertiser. SIR, January 26, 1769. THE kingdom swarms with such numbers of felonious robbers of private character and vir- tue, that no honest or good man is safe; especially as these cowardly, base assassins, stab in the dark, without having the courage to sign their real names to their malevolent and wicked produc- tions. A writer, who signs himself Junius, in the Public Advertiser of the 21st instant, opens the deplorable situation of his country in a very affec- ting manner. With a pompous parade of his can- dour and decency, ho tells us that we see dissen- sions 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 boasted candour, has not told us the real cause of the evils he so pa- thetically enumerates. I' shall take the liberty to explain the cause for him. Junius, and such writers as himself, occasion all the mischief com- plained of, by falsely and maliciously traducing the best characters in the kingdom: for when our deluded people at home, and foreigners abroad, read the poisonous and inflammatory libels that are daily published with impunity, to vilify those who are any way distinguished by their good quali- ties and eminent virtues; when they find no notice 40 JUNIUS. taken of, or reply given to these slanderous tongues or pens, their conclusion is, that both the ministers and the nation have been fairly de- scribed, and they act accordingly. 1 think it, therefore, the duty of every good citizen to stand forth, and endeavour to undeceive the public, when the vilest arts ai'e made use of to defame and blacken the brightest characters among us. An eminent author affirms i{. to be almost as criminal to hear a worthy man 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 so- ciety. No man, therefore, who knows lord Granby, can possibly 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 done to his lordship alone, but to the whole nation, which 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 coun- try, 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 a^e JUNIUS. 41 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 affirm, that all Ju- nius' 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 as well as person. Educated and instructed by his most noble father, and a most spirited as well as excel- lent 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 depre- ciate, is founded upon the noblest of the human affections; it flows from a heart melting to good- ness; from the most refined humanity. Can a man, who is described as unfeeling and void of reflection, be constantly employed in seeking proper objects, on whom to exercise those glo- rious virtues of compassion and generosity? The distressed officer, the soldier, the widow, the or- phan, and a long list besides, know that van- ity has no share in his frequent donations; he gives, because he feels their distresses. Nor has VOL \ 4* 42 JUNIUS. . he ever been rapacious with one hand, to be bountiful with the other. Yet this uncandid Ju- nius would insinuate, that the dignity of the com- mander-in-chief is depraved into the base office of a 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? AVhy does not Junius pro- duce 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 such defamatory writers do, spargere voces In vulgum ambiguas, to raise suspicion in the minds of the people. But I hope that my countrymen will be no longer im- posed upon by artful and designing men, or by wretches, who, bankrupts in business, in fame, and in fortune, mean nothing more than to in- volve 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 con- spicuous 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. JUNIUS. 43 systems; and would endeavour to surprise a good man, who cannot bear to see any one leave him dissatisfied into unguarded promises. Lord Gran- by'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. How are any man's friends or relations to be provided for, but from the influence and protection of the patron ? It is unfair to sup- pose that lord Granby's friends have not as much merit as the friends of any other great man. If he is generous at the public expense, as Junius invidiously calls it, the public is at no^more ex- pense 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 as- serts, 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 no- ble 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 ances- tors to [support,*^ as well as their own; and are doubly bound to the cause of their king and coun. try, from motives of private property, as well as 44 JUNIUS. 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-year, have been selected with the greatest care, and have answered the important trust reposed in them in the most laud- able 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 Graby 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 with- out argument, and violent censures without dig- nity or moderation." WILLIAM DRAPER. LETTER III. To Sir William Draj^er, Knight of the Bath, SIR, February 7, 1769. 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 JUNIUS. 45 you express yourself in the warmest language of your jD^assions. In any other cause, I doubt not you \\'ould have cautiously weighed the consequen- ces ot committing your name to the licentious discourses and malignant opinions of the world : ])ut here, I presume, you thought it would be a breach of friendship, to lose one moment in con- siilting your understanding; as if an appeal to the public were no more than a military coup de main, where a brave man has no rules to follow but the dictates of his courage. Touched with your gen- erosity, I freely forgive the excesses into which it has 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 have given your name to the public; and, if it were a proof of any thing but spirit, I should have thought myself bound to follow your ex- ample. I should have hoped that even my name might carry some authority with it, if I had not i seen how very little weight or consideration a J printed paper receives, even from the respectable I* signature of sir William Draper. You begin with a general assertion, 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 de- 46 JUNIUS. sci'iption, 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 char- acters of the kingdom; and that, if the affections of the colonies have been alienated, if Corsica has been shamefully abandoned, if commerce lan- guishes, if public credit is threatened with a new debt, and your own Manilla ransom most dis- honourably given up, it has all been owing to the malice of political writers who will not suf- fer the best and brightest 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 par- ticulars. Your conscience insinuated to you that it would be prudent to leave the characters of Grafton, North, Hillsborough, Weymouth, and Mansfield, to shift for themselves; and truly, sir William, the part you have undertaken is at least as much as you are equal to. Without disputing lord Granby's courage, wo are yet to learn in what articles of military knowl- edge nature has been so very liberal- to his mind: If you have served with him, you ought to have pointed out some instances of able disposition 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 awk- ward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of tawdry qualifications, vyhich nature never in- tended him to wear. You say, he has acquired nothing but honour'in the field? Is the ordnance nothing? ■ Are the JUNIUS. 47 Blues nothing? Is the command of the army, with all the patronage annexed to it, nothing? Where he got all these nothings I know not; but you, at least, ought to have told us where he de- served them. As to his bounty, compassion, (fee. it would have been but little to the purpose, though you had proved all that you have asserted. I meddle with nothing but his character as commander-in-chief; and, though I acquit him of the baseness of sell- ing commissions, I still assert, that his military cares have never extended beyond the disposal of vacancies; and I am justified by the complaints of the whole army, when I say, that, in this dis- tribution, he consults nothing but parliamentary interest, or the gratification of his immediate de- pendents. 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 suf- fered 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 regi- ment? And does he not, at this moment, give up all character and dignity as a gentleman, in re- ceding from his own repeated declarations in fa- vour 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 expense. I did not urge the last as an absolute vice in his disposition, but to prove that a careless, disinterested spirit is no 48 JUNIUS. part of his character : and as to the other, I de- sire it may be remembered, that I never descended to the indecency of inquiring into his convivial hours. It is you, sir William Draper, who have taken pains to represent your friend in the char- acter 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 mo- ments, could have described him so well. The last charge, of the neglect of the army, is indeed the most material of all. I am sorry 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 Ligqnier did not deliver the army (which you, in classical language, are pleas- ed to call a paUadiu?n) into lord Granby's hands. It was taken from him, much against his inclina- sion, some two or three years before lord Granby was commander-in-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 re- ports of reviewing generals comprehend only a few regiments in England, which, as they are im- mediately under the royal inspection, are per- haps in some tolerable order. But do you know any thing of the tiioops in the West Indies, the JUNIUS. 49 Mediterranean, and North America; to say noth-' ing of a whole army absolutely ruined in Ireland? Inquire a little into facts, sir William, before you publish your next panegyric upon lord Granby ; and, believe me, you will find there is a fault at head-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 honor of your correspondence. You are by no means Undeserving of notice; and it may be of conse- quence, even to lord Granby, to have it determin- ed, 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 ap- pealed to the public ni 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 ran- som 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 ribbon which is now the perpetual ornament of your person? Or was it that regi- ment which you afterwards (a thing unprecedent- ed among soldiers) sold to colonel Gisborne? Or was it that government, the full pay of which you are contented to hold, with the Jialf pay of an VOL. I. 5 50 JUNIUS. Irish colonel? And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude yourself, unthought of. uncalled lor, upon the pa- tience of the public? Are your flatteries of the commander-in-chief, directed to another regi- ment, which you may again dispose of on the same honourable terms? We know your pru- dence, sir William; and I should be sorry to stop your preferment. JUNIUS. LETTER IV. To Junius, SIR, February 17, 1760. 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 end. But whenever he will be honest enough to lay it aside, avow himself, and produce the face which ii'as so long lurked behind it, the world will be able to judge of his motives of writing such in- famous 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 jmen. Junius delights to mangle carcases with a hatchet; his language and instrument have a JUNIUS. 51 great connexion with Claremarket, and, to do him justice, he handles his weapon most admirably. One would imagine he 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 construc- tion, the moments of convivial mirth are made to singnify indecency, a violation of engagements, a drunken landlord, and a desire that every one in company should be drunk likevvise? He must have culled all the flowers of St. Giles's and Bil- lingsgate to have produced such a piece of oratory. Here the hatchet descends with tenfold venge- ance: 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 con- siderable enough to belong to any party. If he should be so, can he affirm that he has always ad- hered to one set of men and measures? Is he 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 pohtics sit much too loosely about them. But as my friend's military character was the chief object that engaged me in this contro- versy, 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 52 JUNIUS. he deserved his emoluments? The united voice of the army which served under him, the glorious testimony of prince Ferdinand, and of vanquished enemies, all Germany will tell him. Junius re- peats the complaints of the army against parlia- mentary 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 prevailed. It was of the least force in the time of that great man, the late duke of Cumberland, who, as a prince of the blood, was able, as well as willing, to stem a torrent which ^yould have overborne any private subject. In time of war, this influ- ence is small. In peace, when discontent and faction have the surest means to operate, espe- cially 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 ob- ligations, its weight is always too great. Yet, if this influence, at present, has iflone 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 betrayed, or the nation undone. Let me ask Junius, if he knows any one nobleman in the army who has had a regiment by seniority? I feel myself liappy in seeing young noblemen of illustrious name and great property come amongst us. They are an additional security to the king- dom 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 in^ JUNIUS. 53 deed. A happy mixture of men of quality witli 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 foot- ing, 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 as- suring them that the army in that kingdom is to- tally ruined ! (The colonels of that army are much obliged to him.) 1 have too great an opin- ion of the military talents of the lord-lieutenant, and of all 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, is he to blame, because the troops in the Mediterranean, in the West Indies, in America, labour under great difficul- ties from the scarcity of men, which is but too visible all over these kingdoms? Many of our forces are in climates unfavourable to British con- stitutions; their loss is in proportion. Britain must recruit all these regiments from her own emaciated bosom; or, more precariously, by Catholics from Ireland. We are likewise subject to the fatal drains to the East Indies, to Senegal, and the alarming emigration of our people to other countries. Such depopulation can only be VOL. I. 5* 54 JUNIUS. repaired by a long peace, or by some sensible bill of naturalization. I must now take the liberty of addressing Ju- nius on my own account. He is pleased to tell me that he addresses himself to me personally : I shall be glad to see him. It is his impersonality that I complain of, and his invisible attacks: for his dagger in the air is only to be regarded, be- cause one cannot see the hand which holds it; but, had it not wounded other people more deeply than myself, I should not have obtruded myself at all on the patience of the public. Mark how plain a tale shall put him down, and transfuse the blush of my ribbon into his own cheeks. Junius tells me, that at my return, I zealously undertook the cause of the gallant army, by whose bravery at Manilla my own fortunes were established; that I complained, that I even appealed to the public. I did so; I glory in hav- ing dene so, as I had an undoubted right to vin- dicate my own character, attacked by a Spanish memorial, and to assert the rights of my brave companions. I glory, likewise, that I have never taken up my pen but to vindicate the injured. Junius asks, by what accident did it happen, that, in the midst of all this bustle, and all the clamours for justice to the injured troops, the Manilla ran- som was suddenly buried in a profound, and, since that time, an uninterrupted silence? I will ex- plain the cause to the public. The several minis- ters who have been employed since that time have been very desirous to do justice, from two most laudable motives: a strong inclination to assist injured bravery? and to acquire a well-deserved JUNIUS. 55 popularity to tliemselves. Their efforts have been in vain. Some were ingenuous enough to own, that they could not think of involving this distressed nation in another war for our private concerns. In short, our rights, for the present, are sacrificed to national convenience ; and I must confess, 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, wick- ed, 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 giv- ing any immediate hopes of relief. Junius would basely insinuate, that my silence may have been purchased by my government, by my blushing ribbon, 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 govern- ment for my service at Madras. I had my first regiment in 1757. Upon my return from Manil- la, his majesty, by lord Egremont, informed me, that I should have the first vacant red ribbon, as a reward for many services in an enterprise which I had planned as well as executed. The duke of .Bedford and Mr. Grenville confirmed these as. ' surances, many months before the Spaniards had protested the ransom bills. To accommodate lord 56 JUNIUS. 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 Grafton and lord Rockmgham 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 ministei-s, 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 glori- ously in the East Indies, his majesty, unsolicited by me, gave me the 16th of foot as an equivalent. My motives for retiring, afterwards, are foreign to the purpose : let 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 ser- vice. I resigned my regiment to colonel Gisborne, a very good officer, for his half-pay, and 200/. Irish annuity : so that, according to Junius, I have been bribed to say nothing more of the Manilla ransom, and to sacrifice those brave men, by the strange avarice of accepting 380Z. per annum, and giving up 800/. ! 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^Juniis's style, I cannot, indeed, call him a flatterer, unless he be as a cynic 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 fie has insinuated with respect to myself. WILLIAM DRAPER. JUNIUS. 57 LETTER V. To Sir William Brajper, Knight of the Bath. SIR, February 21, 1769. I SETOULD justly be suspected of acting upon motives of more than common enmity to lord Granby, if I continued to give you fresh materi- als or occasion for writing in his defence. Indi- viduals who hate, and the public who despise, have read your letters, sir William, with infinite- ly more satisfaction than mine. Unfortunately for him, his reputation, like that unhappy coun- try to which you refer me for his last military achievements, 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 vindi- cation of your friend has been as able and judi- cious as it was certainly well intended : and you, I think, may be satisfied with the warm acknow- ledgements 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 la- bours be confined to the care of your own reputa- tion. 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. 58 JUNIUS. He was aid-de-camp to the king, and had the rank of colonel. A regiment, therefore, could not make him a more military man, though it made him richer; and probably at the expense of some brave, deserving, friendless officer. The other concerns yourself. After selling the com- panions of your victory in one instance, and after selling your profession in the other, by what aCi- thority do you presume to call yourself a soldier? The plain evidence of facts is superior to all de- clarations. Before you were appointed to the 16th regiment, your complaints were a distress to gov- ernment: 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 com- mand of a regiment. There is certainly an error of the press, or an affected obscurity in that para- graph, where you speak of your bargain with colonel Gisborne. Instead of attempting to an- swer 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/. a year) and an annuity of 200/. 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/. a year for 380/.? Was it de- cent, 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 JUNIUS. 59 provision for himself and his family? It were unworthy of me to press you farther. The con- tempt with which the whole army heard of the manner of your retreat, assures me, tliat, 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 honour, to the following effect? That you do not actually hold any jplace 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 in- ward peace of mind. JUNIUS. LETTER VI. To Junius, SIR, February 27, 1769. I HAVE a very short answer for Junius's important question. I do not either take an oath, or declare upon my honour, that I hold no place of profit, civil or military, when I receive the half-pay as an Irish colonel: my most gracious sovereign gives it me as a pension: he was pleased to think I deserved it. The annuity of 200Z. Irish, and the equivalent for the half-pay, together pro- duce no more than 380/. per annum, clear of fees and perquisites of office. I receive 167/. from my 60 JUNIUS. government of Yarmouth. Total 547Z, per an. . num. My conscience is much at ease in these particulars: niy friends need not blush for me. Junius makes much and frequent use of in- terrogations: they are arms that may be easily turned against himself. I could, by malicious in- terrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtu- ous man in the kingdom. I could take the deca- logue, 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 con- duct to the rack, Did you never "bear false wit- ness against thy neighbour?" Junius must easi* ly see, that, unless he affirms to the contrary, in his real name, some people, who may be as igno- rant 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! W. D LETTER VII. To Sir William Draper, Knight of the Bath, SIR, March 3, 1769 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 the mazes of metaphorical confusion. These are the gloomy companions of a disturbed imagination; the mel- ancholy madness of poetry, without the inspira- tion. I will not contend with you in point oi JUNIUS. 61 composition: you are a scholar, sir William, and if I am truly informed, you write Latin with al- most as much purity as England. Suffer me then (for I am a plain unlettered man) to continue that style of interrogation which suits my capaci- ty, and to which, considering the readiness of your answers, you ought to have no objection. Even Mr. Bingley* promises to answer, if put to the torture. Do you then really think, that, if I were to ask a most virtuous man, whether h# ever committed theft or murder, it would disturb his peace of mina? Such a question might, perhaps, discom- pose the gravity of his muscles, but I believe it would little aifect the tranquillity of fhis con- science. Examine your own breast, sir William, and you will discover that reproaches and inqui- ries have no power to afflict either the man of unblemished integrity or the abandoned profli- gate. It is the middle compound character which alone is vulnerable; the man who, without firm- ness enough to avoid a dishonorable 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 appoint- *This man, being committed by the court of king's bench for contempt, voluntarily made oath that he would never answer interrogatories unless he should be put to the torture. ^ VOL. I. 6 62 JUNIUS. ed to ^mother, I dare say you' will not sell it eithei* for a gross sum, or for an annuity upon lives. I am truly glad(for really, sir William, I am not your enemy, nor did I begin this contest with you) that you have been able to clear yourself of a crime, though at the expense of the highest in- discretion. 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 sorts oi provision, which, in their own nature, and in all military and parliamentary views, are incompatible; but T call upon you to justify- that declaration wherein you charge your sove- reign with having done an act in your favour no- toriously against law. The half-pay, both in Ire- land 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, b;^ 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 impos- sible 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 col- lect a profitable instruction for your future life. They will either teach you so to regulate your future conduct, as to be able to set the most ma- JUNIUS. 63 Jicious 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.* JUNIUS. *It has been, said 1 believe truly, that it was signi- fied to sir William Draper, as the request of lord Gran- by, that he" should desist from writing in his lordship's defence. Sir William Draper certainly drew Junius forward to say more of lord Granby's character than he originally intended. He was reduced to the dilem- ma, of either being totally silenced, or of supporting his first letter. Whether sir William had a right to re- duce him to this dilemma, or to call upon him for his name, after a voluntary attack on his side, are ques- tions submitted to the candour of the public. The death of lord Granby was lamented by Junius. He undoubtedly owed some compensation to the public, and seemed determined to aquit himself of them. In pri- vate life, he was unquestionably that good man, who, for the interest of his country, ought to have been a great one, Bonum virwn facile dixeris! magnum libenter. I speak of him now without partiality, I never spoke of him with resentment. His mistake, in public con- duct, did not arise either from want of sentiment, or want of judgment; but, in general, from the difficulty of saying no to the bad people who surrounded him. As for the rest; the friends of lord Granby should re- member, that he himself thought proper to condemn, retract, and disavow, by a most solemn declaration, in the house of commons,, that very system of political conduct which Junius has held forth to the disappro- bation of the public. 64 JUNIUS. LETTER VIII. To his Grace the Duke of Grafton, MY LORD, March 18, 1769. BEFORE you were placed at the head of affairs, it had been a maxim of the English gov- ernment, not unwiUingly 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 sub- jects; for while it preserved that suspicious at- tention 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 en- tirely your own, should carry with them a strong appearance of personal interests, and even of per- sonal enmity, in a quarter where no such interest * Les rois ne se sont reserves que les graces. lis renvoient les condamnations vers leurs officiers. — Mon- tesqxntu. JUNIUS. 65 or enmity can be supposed to exist, without the liighest injustice, and the highest dishonour? On the other hand, by what judicious management have you contrived it, that the only act of mercy to which you 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 j^ou are the minister. As long as the trial of this chairman was de- pending, 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 per- formed it, made common cause between j^our grace and him. The minister, who by secret corruption, invades the freedom of elections, and the ruffian, Avho, 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 hu- manity, you felt for M 'Quirk as you ought to do; and it j^ou had been contented to assist him indi- rectly, without a notorious denial of justice, or openly insulting the sense of the nation, you might have satisfied every duty of pohtical friendship, without committing 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 ap- peared that he had been frequently employed in tlie same services, and tliat no excuse for him VOL. r, 0* 66 JUNIUS. 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 * Whitehall, March 11, 1769. His majesty has been graciously pleased to extend his royal mercy to Edward M'Q,uirk, found guilty of the murder of George Clarke, as appears by his royal v/arrant, to the tenour following: GEORGE R. Whereas a doubt has arisen in our royal breast con- cerning the evidence of the death of George Clarke, from the representations of William Broomfield, esq. surgeon, and Solomon Starling, apothecary; both of whom, as has been represented to us, attended the deceased before his death, and expressed their opinions that he did not die of the blow he received at Brent- ford: and whereas it appears to us that neither of the said persons were produced as witnesses upon the tri- al, though the said Solomon Starling had been examin- ed before the coroner; and the only person called to prove that the death of the said George Clarke was occasioned by the said blow, was Jolin Foot, surgeon, who never saw the deceased till after his death: we thought fit thereupon to refer the said representations, together with the report of the recorder of our city of London, of the evidence given by Richard and William Beale and the said John Foot, on the trial of Edward Quirk, otherwise called Edward Kirk, otherwise called Edward M'Quirk, for the murder of the said Clarke to the master, wardens, and the rest of the court of exam- iners of the surgeons' company, commanding them like- wire to take such farther examination of the said persons so representing, and of said John Foot, as they might think necessary, together with the premises above- mentioned, to form and report to us their opinion, "Whether it did or did not appear to them that the said George Clarke died in consequence of the blow he received in the riot at Brentford on the 8th of December last." And the said court of examiners of JUNIUS. 67 known that an 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 gov- ernment is this? You are perpetually complaining of the riotous disposition of the lower class of peo- ple; yet when the laws have given you the means of making an example, in every sense unexcep- tionable, and by far the most likely to awe the mul- titude, 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 exe- the surgeons* company having thereupon reported to us their opinion, — "That it did not appear to them that he did;" we have thought proper to extend our royal mercy to him the said Edward Quirk, othervrise Edward Kirk, otherwise called Edward M'Q,uirk, and to grant him our free pardon for the murder of the said George Clark, of which he has been found guilty. Our will and pleasure, therefore, is, That the said Ed- ward Quirk, otherwise called Edward Kirk, otherwise called Edward M'Quirk, be inserted, for the said murder, in our first and next general pardon that shall come out for the poor convicts of Newgate, without any condition whatsoever; and that, in the mean time- you take bail for his appearance, in order to plead our said pardon. And for so doing this shall be your warrant. Given at our court at St. James's, the tenth day of March, 1769, in the ninth year of our r^ign. By his majesty's command. ROCHFORD. To our trusty and well-beloved James Eyre, esq. recorder of our city of London, the sher- iffs of our said city and coun- ty of Middlesex, and all oth- - era whom it may concern. 68 JUNIUS cution; and had rather see a score of tliese wretches butchered by the giiards, than one of them suffer death by regular course of law. How does it happen, my lord, that, m your hands, even the mercy of the prerogative is cruilty and op- pression to the subject. The measure, it seems, was so extrordinary, that you thought it necessary to give some reasons for it to the public. Let them be fairly examin- ed. 1. You say, that Messrs. Broomfielcl and Starling were not examined at lirQiiirk^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? 2. You say, that Mr. Foot did not see the de- ceased until after his death. A surgeon, my lord, must know very little of his profession, if, upon examining a wound or a contusion, he cannot de- termine whether it was mortal or not. While the party is alive, a surgeon will be cautious of pro- nouncing; 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 confirm- ed by experience. 3. Yet we are to thank your grace for the es- tablishment of a new tribunal. Your inquisito post mortem, 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 evi- flenco was insufiicient, because he did not exam- JUNIUS. 69 ine the wound till after the death of the party, much less can a negative opinion, given by gen- tlemen who never saw the body of Mr. Clarke either before or after his decease, authorise you to supersede the verdict of a jury, and the sen- tence of the law. Now, my lord, let me ask you, Has it never occurred to your grace, while you were with- drawing 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 favorite 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 uniform tenor of your public conduct, is an answer to them all. • JUNIUS. LETTER IX. To Ids Grace the Duke of Grafton, MY LORD, April 10, 1769. I HAVE so good an opinion of your grace's discernment, that when the author of the vindi- cation of your conduct assures us that he writes from his own mere motion, without the least au- thority from your grace, I should be ready enough 70 JUNIUS. to believe him, but for one fatal mark, which seems to be fixed upon every measure in which either your personal or 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. Glynn. The extraordina- ry step you took to make sir James Lowther lord paramount of Cumberland has ruined his interest in that country for ever: the house list of direc- tors was cursed with the concurrence of govern- ment; 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 vin- dication of your principles and conduct, in reali- ty, contains the bitterest reflections upon both, it could not' have been written without your imme- diate direction and assistance. The author, in- deed, calls God to witness for him, with all the sincerity, and in the very terms of an Irish evi- dence, 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. * This unfortunate person had been persuaded by the duke of Grafton to set up for Middlesex, his grace being determined to seat him in the house of commons, if he had but a single vote. It happened, unluckily, that he could not prevail upon any one freeholder to put bim in nomination. Junius. 71 You have already much to answer for. You have provoked t-liis unhappy gentleman to play the fool once more in pubhc hie, 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 re- markable example of age without the benefit of experience. To follow such a writer minutely, would, like his own periods, be labour without end. The subject too has been already discussed, and is sufficiently understood. I cannot help ob- serving, 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. 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 timt he v/ishes that those chirurgical reports, which first gave occasion to certain doubts in the royal breast, had not been laid before his majes- ty? You see, my lord, that even your friends can- not defend your actions, without changing your principles; nor justify a deliberate measure of go- vernment without contradicting the main asser- tion 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 obhged either to abandon an active, useful partisan, or to protect a felon from public justice. With your usual spirit you pre- ferred your interest to every other consideration; 72 JUNIUS. 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 con- duct, yet your advocate reproaches me with hav- ing 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. Remem- ber, my lord, that you continued your connexion with Mr. Wilkes, long after he had been convict- ed of those crimes which you have since taken pains to represent in the blackest colours of blas- phemy and treason. How unlucky is it, that the first instance you have given us of a scrupulous regard to decorum, is united with a 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 re- gard to the public, even his vices plead for him. The people of England have too much discern- ment 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. Content yourself, my lord, with the many advantages which the unsullied purity of your own character has given you over JUNIUS. 73 your unhappy deserted friends. 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 impu- nity, and there you may safely indulge your gen- ius. But the laws of England shall not be viola- ted, even by your holy zeal to oppress a sinner; and, though you have succeeded in making him a tool, you shall not make him the victim of your ambition. JUNIUS.. LETTER X. To Mr, Edward Weston, SIR, April 21, 1769. I said you were an old man without the benefit of experience. It seems you are also a volun- teer, with the stipend of twenty commissions; and at a period when all prospects are at an end, you are still looking forward to rewards which you cannot enjoy. No man is better acquainted with the bounty of government than j^ou are; . Ton impudence, Temeraire vieillard, aura sa recompence. But I will not descend to an altercation either with the impotence of your age, or the peevish- ness 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: VOL. I. 7 74 JUNIUS. Page eth. *1. That he is persuaded that the motives which he (Mr. Weston) has alleged, 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 thought proper, &c. <3. That he cannot hut regret, that the earl of Rochford seems to have thought proper to lay the chirurgical reports before the king, in preference to all the other sufficient motives,' &c. Let the public determine whether this be de- fending 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 nor resemblance. But the works of a master require no index; his features and colouring are taken from nature; the impression they make is imme- diate and uniform; nor is it possible to mistake his characters, whether they represent the treach- ery of a minister, or the abused simpHcity of a — ^ JUNIUS. JUNIUS. . 75 LETTER XL To his Grace the Duke of Grafton, MY LORD, April 24, 1769. THE system you seem to have adopted when lord Chatham unexpectedly left you at the head of affairs, gave us no promise of that uncom- mon exertion of vigour which has since illustrat- ed your character, and distinguished your admi- nistration. 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 exel'cising 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 out- lawry 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 lefl the metropolis exposed, for two nights together, to every species of riot and dis- order. The security of the royal residence from insult was then sufficiently provided for in Mr. Conway's firmness, and lord Weymouth's discre- tion; 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 76 JUNIUS. country, and himself. In these instances you might have acted with vigour, for you would have had the sanction 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 dis- graceful 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 suddently start to the other, without leaving, between the weakness and the fury of the pas- sions, 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 inter- esting or important, because they are succeeded by a measure so singularly daring, that it excites all our attention, and engrosses all our resent- ment. Your patronage of Mr. Luttrell has been crowned with success. With this precedent be- fore you, with the principles on which it was es- JUlSJlUS. 77 tablislied, and with a future house, of commons, perhaps less virtuous than the present, every count}'' 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 your- self with a temporary expedient, but entailing upon them the immediate blessings of your ad- ministration. 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 tlie man they detest may be appointed by anoth- er choice to represent them in parliament. Yet it is admitted, that the sheriffs obeyed the laws, and performed their duty.* The return they made must have been legal and valid, or undoubt- edly 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 ad- here to their choice (even supposing it improper- ly 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 tlie wide distance there is between the nega- tive power of rejecting one man, and the positive power of appointuig another. The right of ex» pulsion, in the most favourable sense, is no more * Sir Fletcher Norton, when it was proposed to pun- ish the sheriffs, declared in the house of eommons, that they, in returning Mr, Wilkes, had done no more than their duty. VOL. I. 7* 78 JUNIUS than the custom of parliament. The right of election is the very essence of the constitution. To violate that right, and much more to trans- fer 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 docs 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 absur- dities, 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 lay between the ministry and Mr^ Wilkes, his situation and private character gave you advantages over him, which common can- dour, if not the memory of your former friendship, should have forbidden you to make use of. To religious men you had an opportunity of exagger- ating the irregularities ot his past life; to moder- rate men you held forth the pernicious consequen- ces of faction. Men who, with this character, looked no farther than to the object before them, were not dissatisfied at seeing Mr. Wilkes exclu- ded 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 con- cerned than any other English gentleman. You have united this country against you on one grand *The reader is desired to mark this prophecy. JUNIUS. 79 constitutional point, on the decision of whicli our existence, as a free people, absolutely depends. You have a.«sertcd, not in words, but in fact, that the representation in parhament does not depend upon the choice of the freeholders. If such a case can possibly happen once, it may happen fre- quently; it may happen always: and if three hun- dred votes, by any mode of reasoning whatever, can prevail against twelve hundred, the same reasoning would equally have given Mr. Luttrell his seat with ten votes, or even with one. The consequences of this attack upon the constitution are too plain and palpable, not to alarm the dul- lest apprehension: I trust you will find that the" people of England are neither deficient in spirit or understanding; though you have treated them as if they had neither sense to feel or spirit to re- sent. We have reason to thank God and our an- cestors, that there never yet was a minister in this country who could stand the issue of such a con- flict; and, with every prejudice in favour of your intentions, I see no such abilities in your grace, as should enable you to succeed in an enterprise, in which the ablest and basest of your predeces- sors have found their destruction. You may con- tinue to deceive your gracious master 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 rights; or, that an English army will join with you in overturn- ing the liberties of their country. They know, that their first duty, as citizens, is paramount to 80 JUNIUS. all subsequent engagements: nor will tliey prefer the discipline, or even tlie honours of their pro- fession, to those sacred original rights which be- longed 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 New- Market. 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 criminal; and wide is the dis- tance between a riot of the populace and a con- vulsion of the whole kingdom. You may live to make the experiment, but no honest man can wish you should survive it. JUNIUS. LETTER XII. To his Grace the Duke of Grafton. MY LORD, May 30, 1769. IF the measures in which you have been" most successful had been supported by any tolera- ble appearance of argument, I should have thought *The duke, about this time, had separated himself from Anne Parsons; but proposed to continue united with her on some platonic terms of friendship, v/hich she rejected with contempt. His baseness to this wo- man is beyond description or behef JUNIUS. 81 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 suffi- cient 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 a 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 j^ourselfto the passions nor the understanding, but simply to the touch. You apply yourself immediately to the feelings of your friends; who, contrary to the forms of parhament, 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 pub- lic, let me be permitted to consider your character and conduct, merely as a subject of curious specu- lation. There is something in both which distin- guishes 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 82 JUNIUS. genius of your life, should have carried you through every possible 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 into a wise or honourable action. This, I own, gives an air of singularity to your fortune, as well as to your disposition. Let us look back, together, to a scene, in which a mind like yours will find nothing to repent of. Let us try, my lord, how well you have supported the various relations in which you stood to 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; nor 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 their descendants to be vicious in the extreme, without being degene- rate. Those of your grace, for instance, left no distressing examples of virtue even to their legiti- mate posterity: and you may look back with plea- sure 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 mar- riage, or any troublesome inheritance of reputa- JUNIUS. 83 tion. There are some hereditary strokes of char- acter, by which a family may be as clearly distin- guished, as by the blackest features of the human face. Charles the First lived and died a hypa- crite. 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 with- out religion, profligate without gayety, you live like Charles the Second, without being an amia- ble companion; and, for aught I know, may die as his father did, without the reputation of a martyr. You had already taken your degrees with cred- it, in those schools in which the English nobility are formed to virtue, when you were introduced to lord Chatham's protection.* 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 late duke of Cumberland's first negotiation failed, and when the favourite was pushed to the last extremity, you saved him, by joining with an administration, *To understand these passages, the reader is referred to a noted pamphlet, called, 'The History of the Mi- nority."' 84 JUNIUS. 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 plentitude ot 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 compen- sations to make in the closet for your former friendship with him. Your gracious master un- derstands your character, and makes you a perse- cutor 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, or by acting 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 suited to your genius, and more likely to fix your disposi- tion. 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, from the scorpion, in which JUNIUS, 85 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 frail- ty 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 f 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 Bed- ford's ambition, after making her an honest wo- man, to work a miracle of the same sort upon your grace. This worthy nobleman has long dealt in virtue : there has been a large consump- tion of it in his own family ; and, in the way of traffic, I dare 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 bo necessary to betray one friendship more, you may set even lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stewart M'Kenzie may possibly remember what use the duke of Bedford usually makes of his power; and our gracious sovereign, I doubt not, rejoices at this first appea,rance of union among his servants. His late majesty, under the happy influence of a family connexion between his ministers, was relieved from the cares of the government. A more active prince * His grace had lately married Miss Wrottesly, niece of the good Gertrude, duchess of Bedford. tMiss Liddel, after her divorce from the duke, mar- ried lord Upper Ossory. VOL. I. 8* 86 JUNIUS. may, perhaps, observe with suspicion by what de= grees an artful servant grows upon his master, from the first unhmited professions of duty and attachment, to the pamful representation of the necessity of the royal service, and soon, in regu- lar progression, to the humble insolence of dicta- ting in all the obsequious forms of peremptory sub- mission. The interval is carefully employed in forming connexions, creating interests, collecting a party, and laying 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 re- moved. Your grace's public conduct, as a minister, is but the counterpart 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 elo. quence, at the opening of the next session, 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 JUNIUS. 85 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 frail- ty 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 f 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 Bed- ford's ambition, after making her an honest wo- man, to work a miracle of the same sort upon your grace. This worthy nobleman has long dealt in virtue : there has been a large consump- tion ot it in his own family ; and, in the way of traffic, I dare 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 bo necessary to betray one friendship more, you may set even lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stewart M'Kenzie may possibly 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 connexion between his ministers, was relieved from the cares of the government. A more active prince * His grace had lately married Miss VVroltesly, niece of the good Gertrude, duchess of Bedford. tMiss Liddel, after her divorce from the duke, mar- ried lord Upper Ossory. VOL, I, 8* 86 JUNIUS. may, perhaps, observe with suspicion by what da^ grees an artful servant grows upon his master^ from the first unHmited professions of duty and attachment, to the pamful representation of the necessity of the royal service, and soon, in regu- lar progression, to the humble insolence of dicta- ting in all the obsequious forms of peremptory sub- mission. The interval is carefully employed in forming connexions, creating interests, collecting a party, and laying 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 re- moved. Your grace's public conduct, as a minister, is but the counterpart 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 elo. quence, at the opening of the next session, 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 JUNIUS. 87 gratification of betra5ang every party with which you have been united, and of deserting every po- htical principle in which you had concui-red? Your enemies may turn their eyes without re- gret from this admirable system of provincial gov- ernment. They will find gratification enough in the survey 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 justi- fied in treating you with contempt. They would probably have yielded, in the first instance, rather than hazard a rupture with this country; but, heii}g once engaged, they cannot retreat without dishonour. Common sense foresees consequences which have escaped your grace's penetration. Either we suffer the French to make an acquisi- tion, the importance of which you have probably no conception of; or we oppose them by an under- hand management, which only disgraces us in the eyes of Europe, without answering any purpose of policy or prudence. From secret, indirect as- sistance, a transition to some more open, decisive measures, becomes unavoidable; till, at last, we find ourselves principal in the war, and are obli- •ged to hazard every thing for an object, which might have originally been obtained without ex- pense or danger. I am not versed in the politics of the north; but this, I believe, is certain; that half the money you have distributed to carry the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, or even your secretary's share in the last subscription, would have kept' 88 JUNIUS. the Turks at your devotion. Was it economy my lord? or did the coy resistance you have constant- ly met with in the British senate make jou des- pair of corrupting the divan? Your friends, in- deed, have the first claim upon your bounty: but if 500Z. a year can be spared in a 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 af- fairs 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 eftects of a system of government at once both odious and contemptible. We have seen the laws sometimes scandalously relaxed, sometimes violently stretch- ed 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 in- *The wise duke, about this time, exerted all the in- •fluence of government to procure addresses to satisfy the king of the fidelity of his subjects. They came in very thick from Scotland ; but, after the appearance of this letter, we heard no more of them. JUNIUS. 89 terest, 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 down 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 per- sonal character, I will not, for the honour of hu- man 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 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 nega- tive instruction to your successors for ever. JUNIUS. LETTER VIII. Addressed to the Printer of the PuUic Advertiser. sm, June 12, 1769. 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, 1 shall leave it to the critics. The truth of his facts is of more importance to the public. They are of VOL. I. S'' 90 JUNIUS. such a nature, that I think a bare 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 open- ly invaded, and the very name of an election made ridiculous, by the arbitrary appointment of Mr. Luttrell? 2. Did not the duke of Graflon frequently lead his mistress into public, and even place her at the head of his table, as if he had pulled down an an- cient 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 an- cestors 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 close- ly united with a set of men, who, though they have occasionally joined with all parties, have, JUNIUS. 91 in every different situation, and at all times, been 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 expense of more than half a million? 10. Is there any one mode of thinking or acting with respect to America, which the duke of Graf- ton has not successively adopted and abandoned? 11. Is there not a singular mark of shame set upon this man, who has so little dehcacy and feel- ing, as to submit to the opprobrium of marrjnng 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 (Edipus, 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 others, daringly violated ; and that the king's sub- jects have been called upon to assure him of their fidelity, in spite of the measures of his servants. 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 gene- ral reproaches. He may want eloquence to amuse and persuade; but, speaking truth, he must always convince. PHILO JUNIUS. 92 UNIUS. LETTER XIV. Addressed to the Printer of the PuhTic Advertiser. SIR, June 22, 1769. THE name of Old Noll is destined to be the ruin of the house of Stuart. There is an omi- nous fataUty in it, which even the spurious de- scendants of the family cannot escape. Ohver 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 little he has assumed, than with the prin- ciples he professes: for though he pretends to be an advocate for the duke, he takes care to give us the best reason why this patron should regularly follow the fiite of his presumptive ancestor. Through the whole course of the duke of Graf- ton's life, I see a strange endeavour to UEite con- tradictions which cannot be reconciled. He mar- ries, to be divorced; he keeps a mistress, to remind him of conjugal endearments; and he chooses such friends as it is a virtue in him to desert. If it were possible for the genius of that accomplished president, who pronounced sentence upon Charles the First, to be revived in some modern syco- phant,* his grace, I doubt not, would by sympa- * It is hardly necessary to remind the reader of the name of Bradshaiv. JUNIUS. 03 tJiy discover him among the dregs of mankmd, and take him for a gliide in those paths which na- turally conduct a minister to the scaffold. The assertion that two-thirds of the nation ap- prove of the acceptance of Mr. Luttrell (for even Old Noll is too modest to call it an election) can neither be maintained nor confuted by argument. It is a point of fact, on which every English gen- tleman will determine for himself. As to law- yers, their profession is supported by the indiscri- minate defence of right and wrong; and I confess I have not that opinion of their knowledge or in- tegrity, to think it necessary that they should de- cide for me upon a plain constitutional question. With respect to the appointment of Mr. Luttrell, the chancellor has never yet given any authentic opinion. Sir Fletcher Norton is, indeed, an hoi nest, a very honest man;' and the attorney-general is ex officio the guardian of liberty; to take care, I presume, that it shall never break out into a criminal excess. Doctor Blackstone 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 for- tune 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 con- sulted; 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 94 JUNIUS. 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 cer- tain 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 mis- tress 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 de- pravity of his heart; but what are we to think of iiis understanding? His grace, it seems, is now to be a regular, do-, mestic man; and, as an omen of the future deli- cacy and correctness of his conduct, he marries a first cousin of the man who had fixed that mark and title of Infamy upon him, which, at the same moment, makes a husband unhappy and ridicu- lous. The ties of consanguinity may possibly pre- serve 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 maclame ma fhnme to madaiiie v.ia cou- sine. The duke of Graflon has always some excellent reason for deserting his friends: the age and in- capacity of lord Chatham, the debility of lord JUNIUS. 95 Rockingham, or the infamy of Mr. Wilkes. There was a time, indeed, when he did not appear to be quite as well acquainted, or so violently of- fended, 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 awkward integrity of Mr. Rig- by; and the spotless morahty of lord Sandwich. If a late pension to a broken gambler* be an act worthy of commendation, the duke of Graf- ton's connexions will furnish him with many op- portunities of doing praiseworthy actions; and as he himself bears no part of the expense, the gene* rosity 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 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 pa- tron's measures have been subject to some varia- tion: but then he promises wonders of stability and firmness for the future. These are mysteries, of which we must not pretend to judge by experi- ence; and, truly, I fear we shall perish in the de- sert, 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 Towns- hend took some care of his education at tliat am- *Sir JoliD Moore m JUNIUS. biguous age, which hes between the follies of po- litical childhood and the vices of puberty. The empire of the passions soon succeeded. His ear- liest principles and connexions were of course for- gotten or despised. The company he has lately kept has been of no service to his morals; and, in the conduct of public affairs, we see the charac- ter of his time of life strongly distinguished. An obstinate, ungovernable self-sufficiency plainly points out to us that state of imperfect maturity at which the graceful levity of youth is lost, and the solidity of experience not yet acquired. It m possible the young man may, in time, grow wiser, and reform; but if I understand his dispositioi,!, it is not of such corrigible stuff that we should hope for any amendment in him, before he has ac- complished the destruction of his countr)^ LikL*. other rakes, he may, perhaps, live to see his error,^ but not until he has ruined his estate. PHILO JUNIUS. LETTER XV. To his Grace the Duke of Grafton, MY LORD, July 8, 1769, IF nature had given you an understanding qualified to keep pace with the wishes and prin- ciples of your heart, she would have made you, perhaps, the most formidable minister that ever was employed, under a limited monarch, to ac- complish the ruin of a free people. When nei- JUNIUS. 95 Rockingham, or the infamy of Mr. Wilkes. There was a time, indeed, when he did not appear to be quite as well acquainted, or so violently of- fended, 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 awkward integrity of Mr. llig- by; and the spotless morality of lord Sandwich. If a late pension to a broken gambler* be an act worthy of commendation, the duke of Graf- ton's connexions will furnish him with many op- portunities of doing praiseworthy actions; and as he himself bears no part of the expense, the gene- rosity 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 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 pa- tron's measures have been subject to some varia- tion: but then he promises wonders of stability and firmness for the future. These are mysteries, of which we must not pretend to judge by experi- ence; and, truly, I fear we shall perish in the de- sert, before we arrive at the land, of promise. In V the regular course of things, the period of the duke t of Grafton's ministerial manhood should now be approaching. The imbecility of his infant state was committed to lord Chatham. Charles Towns- hend took some care of his education at that am- *^Sir John Mcore 96 JUNIUS. biguous age, which lies between the follies oi po- litical childhood and the vices of puberty. The empire of the passions soon succeeded. His ear- liest principles and connexions were of course for- gotten or despised. The company he has lately kept has been of no service to his morals; and, in the conduct of public affairs, we see the charac- ter of his time of life strongly distinguished. An obstinate, ungovernable self-sufficiency plainly points out to us that state of imperfect maturity at which tlie graceful levity of youth is lost, and the solidity of e-xperience not yet acquired. It is possible the young man may, in 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 ac- complished the destruction of his country. Like other rakes, he may, perhaps, live to see his error, but not until he has ruined his estate. PHILO JUNIUS. LETTER XV. To his Grace the Duke of Grafton, MY LORD, July 8, 1769. IF nature had given you an understanding qualified to keep pace with the wishes and prin- ciples of your heart, she would have made you, perhaps, the most formidable minister that ever was employed, under a limited monarch, to ac- complish the ruin of a free people. ,When nci- JUNIUS. 97 tlier the feelings of shame, the reproaches of con- science, nor 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, am- biguous system might require and furnish the ma- terials 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 de- termine for himself: it is not an alarm to the pas- sions, but a calm appeal to the judgment of the people, upon their own most essential interests. A more experienced minister would not have ha- zarded a direct invasion of the first principles of the constitution, before he had made some pro- gress in subduing the spirit of the people. With VOL. I. 9 98 JUNIUS. such a cause as yours, my lord, it is not sufficient that you have the court at your devotion, unless you can find means to corrupt or intimidate the jury. The collective body of the people form that jury, and from their decision their 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 of the 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 conclu- sion of this sort, and that a partial reliance upon your moral character has betrayed you beyond the depth of your understanding. You have now car- ried 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 sove- reign to the throne, we have seen a system of government which may well be called a reign of experiment. 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 dis- pleasure has lieen signified to a minister, the marks of it have usually been proportioned to hi* JUNIUS. 99 abilities and integrity. The spirit of the favour- ite had some apparent influence upon every ad- ministration; and every set of ministers preserved an appearance of duration as long as they submit- ted to that influence. But there were certain services to be performed for the favour's secu- rity, 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 deter- mined. 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 those compliances which were expected from their station. A submissive ad- ministration was at last gradually collected from the deserters of all parties, interests, and connex- ions; 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 in the proud, imposing superiority of lord Chatham's abilities; the shrewd, inflexible judgment of Mr. Grenville; nor in the mild but determined inte- grity of lord Rockingham. His views and situa- tion required a creature void of all these proper- ties; and he was forced to go through every divi- sion, resolution, composition, and refinement of political chemistry, before he happily arrived at the cajput rnortuiun of vitriol in your grace. Flat and insipid in your retired state; but, brought into action, you become vitriol again. Such are the extremes of alternate indolence or fury, which have governed your whole administration. Your 100 JUNIUS. circumstances, with regard to tlie people, soon becoming desperate, like other honest servants, you determined to involve the best of masters in the same difficuUies with yourself. We owe it to your grace's well-directed labours, that your sove- reign has been persuaded to doubt of the affec- tions 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 dishonorable com- petition 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 measuring 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 com- mon arts of domestic corruption, we miss no part of sir Robert Walpole's system, except his abili- ties. In this humble, imitative line, you might long have proceeded safe and contemptible. You might probably never have risen to the dignity of being hated, and even have been despised with moderation. But it seems you meant to be dis- tinguished; and, to a mind like yours, there was no other road to fame but by the destruction of a noble fabric, which you thought had been too long the admiration of mankind. The use you JUNIUS. iOl have made of the miHtary force, introduced an alarming change in the mode of executing the laws. The arbitrary appointment of Mr. Lut- trell invades the foundation of the laws them- selves, as it manifestly transfers the right of legis- lation from those whom the people have chosen, to those whom they have rejected. With a suc- cession 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 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 di- rect 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 re- quires no persuasion of argument, but simply the evidence of the senses, to convince them, that, to transfer the right of election from the collective to the representative body of the people, contra- dicts 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 has 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 protec- tion, are you prepared to meet the united de- testation of the people of England? The city of VOL. I. 9* 102 JUNIUS. ' 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 have already paid for: another must be purchased, and, to save a minister, the house of commons must declare themselves not only inde- pendent 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 protec- tion should fail 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 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 conten- tion in which every thing may be lost, but no- thing can be gained: and, as you became minister by accident, were adopted without choice, trust- ed without confidence, and continued without favour, be assured, that whenever an occasion presses, you will be discarded without even the JUNIUS. 103 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 those of their high steward, and a thousand other recommending circumstan- ces, 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 mor3 a peace- ful scene of slumber and thoughtless meditation. The venerable tutors of the univeraty will no longer distress your modesty, by proDOsirg you for a pattern to their pupils. The Imrned dull- ness of declamation will be silent; -nd even the venal muse, though happiest in ficti^"> w:ll forget your virtues. Yet, for the benefi^f*the succeed- ing age, I could wish that your -treat might be deferred until your morals shaP^^'^PPi^y be ripen- ed to that maturity of corri'*^^".' ^^ which the worst examples cease to be -^^^tagious. ^ JUNIUS. LuTTER XVI. To the Printer cihe Pu^ic Advertiser, SIR, . . , July 19, 1769. A GREAT '^^'^^ "se/ess argument might have been savec^ ^^^^ political contest which / 104 JUNIUS. has arisen from the expulsion of Mr. Wilkes, and the subsequent appointment of Mr. Luttrell, if the question had been once stated with precision, to the satisfaction of each party, and clearly un- derstood 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 pur- pose; or in maintaining propositions, which are either not disputed, or, whether they be admitted or denied, are entirely indifferent as to the matter in debate; until at last, the mind, perplexed and confounded with the endless subtilties of contro- versy, losra sight of the main question, and never arrives at truth. Both parties in the dispute are apt enougii to practice these dishonest artifices. The mwi ^^ho is conscious of the weakness of his cause is inti; rested in concealing it : and, on the other side, it i> not uncommon to see a good cause mangled by a^ocates, who do not know the real strength of it. I should be glJ^ to know, for instance, to what purpose, in the prt^^^^ q^qq^ so many precedents have been producect^Q p^.^^^ ^j^^^ "Jl^^ j^^^^g^ ^f commons have a I'lg^^Ho expel one of their own members; that it belon^ .^ ^^^^ ^^ j^^^^ ^^ ^1^^ validity of elections; or tb. ^j^^ ^^^ of parliament is part ot the law of the;a,.|^* ^f^^^. ^^ ^^^^^ propositions ere admitted, Mr. Luttrell's right to his seat will cuitinue to 9 just us disputable as it was before, i^ot one ( them is at present in *The reader will objnrve,hat ^j^^^^ admissions are made, not as of ^^^^^J^^' "^^^^^ but for the sake of argument, and m order to Drh.^^ ^^^^ question to issue. JUNIUS. 105 agitation. Let it bo admitted that the house of commons were authorised to expel Mr. Wilkes, that they are the proper court to judge of elec-' tions, 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 declar- ed that law. To facilitate this inquiry, I would have the question cleared of all foreign or indif- ferent matter. The following state of it will pro- bably 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 ju- dicious and true opinion upon it. I take the ques- tion to be strictly this: "Whether or no it be the known, established law of parliament, that the expulsion of a member of the house of com- mons, of itself creates in him such an incapacity to be re-elected, that, at a subsequeut election, any votes given to him are null and void; and that any other candidate, who, except the person ex- pelled, has the greatest number of votes, ought to be the sitting member." To prove that the affirmative is the law of par- liament, 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 legis- lature 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 rea- sonable to prove the right by the fact itself. The ministry have not yet pretended to such a tyranny 106 JUNIUS. over our minds. To support the affirmative fair- ly, it will either be necessary to produce some sta- tute, in which that positive provision shall have been made, that specific disability clearly created, and the consequences of it declared; or, if there be no such statute, the custom of parhament must then be referred to ; and some case or cases,* strictly in point, must be produced, with the de- cision of the court upon them; for I readily admit, that the custom of parliament, once clearly prov- ed, is equally binding with the common and sta- tute 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 expediency of a law; but we must have either statute or precedent to prove the exist- ence of it. At the same time, I do not mean to admit that the late resolution of the house of com- mons is defensible on general principles of rea- son, 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 bo at an end. 2dly, That there is no precedent, in all the pro- ceedings of the house of commons, whicli comes *Precedents. in opposition to principles, have little weight with J-unius; but he thought it necessary to meet the ministry upon their own ground. JUNIUS. 107 entirely home to the present case, viz. "Where an expelled member has been returned again, and another candidate, with an inferior 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 ot any county or borough had returned a person expelled to serve in the same parliament." It is not possible to conceive a case more exactly in point. Mr. Walpole was expelled; and, having a majority of votes at the next election, was re- turned again. The friends of Mr. Taylor, a can- didate 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 the same. It came regularly before the house, and it was their business to determine upon it. They did determine upon it; for they declared Mr. Taylor not duly elected. If it be said, that they meant this resolution as matter of favour and indul- gence 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, 1. That it is a strange way of arguing, to op- 108 JUNIUS. pose 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 proceed- ings 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 extra- ordinary way of declaring the law of parliament , and what, I presume, no man, whose understand, ing is not at cross purposes with itself, would pos- sibly understand. If, in a case of this importance, I thought my- self at liberty to argue from suppositions rather than from facts, I think the probability, in this instance, is directly the reverse of what the mi. nistry 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 le- gally vested in him, to gratify a refractory bo- rough, which, in defiance of them, had returned JUNIUS. 109 a person branded with the strongest mark of the displeasure of the house. But really, sir, this way of talking (for I can- not call it argument) is a mockery of the common Understanding of the nation, too gross to be en- dured. Our dearest interests are at stake. An attempt has been made, not merely to rob a sin* gle county of its rights, but, by inevitable conse- quence, 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 delud- ed, like children. I beUeve there is yet a spirit of resistance in this country, which will not sub- mit to be oppressed; but I am sure there is a fund of good sense in this country, which cannot be deceived. JUNIUS. LETTER XVil. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser, SIR, August 1, 1769. IT will not be necessary for Junius to take the trouble of answering 5-our correspondent G. A. or 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 proposi- tion on which all his argun\ent depends, viz. that VOL. I. 10 no JUNIUS. Mr, WiTkes loas under thai known legal incapacu ty 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. I observe, first that if he did not admit Junius's state of the question, he 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 quartos, 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, no such custom of parliament, no such case in point, can he 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 deci- sion 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 hap- pens 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 parhament. But now, it seems, if there be no law, the house of commons have a right to make one; and if there JUNIUS. - 111 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 correspon- dent had been at all versed in the law of parlia* ment, or generally in the laws of this country, he would have seen that this defence is as weak and false as tho 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 code or decla- ration whatsoever; but, whenever a question of privilege has arisen, it has invariably been dis- puted or maintained upon the footing of precedents alone.* In the course of the proceedings upon the Aylesbury election, the house of lords resolv- ed, "That neither house of parliament had any power, by any vote or declaration, to create to themselves any new privilege, that was not war- ranted by the known laws and customs of parlia- ment." And to this rule, the house of commons, though otherwise they had acted in a very arbi- trary manner, gave their assent; for they affirmed that they had guided themselves by it in asserting their privileges. Now, sir, if this be true, with respect to matters of privilege, in which the house of commons, individually, and as a body, are principally concerned, how much more strong- ly 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 over their own member and those of the member himself, * This is still meeting the ministry upon their own ground; for, in truth, no precedents will support either natural injustice, or violation of positive rights. 112 JUNIUS. are included, but also those of a third and separate party; I mean the freeholders of the kingdom ! To do justice to the ministry, they have not yet pretended that any one, or any two, of the three estates, have power to make a new law, v/ithout the concurrence of the third. They know, that a man who maintains such a doctrine, is liable, by statute, to the heaviest penalties. They do not ac- knowledge that the house of commons have as- sumed a new privilege, or declared a new law. On the contrary, they affirm that their proceed- ings have been strictly conformable to, and found- ed upon, the ancient law and custom of parlia- ment. Thus, therefore, the question returns to the point at which Junius had rfixed it, viz. Whether or no this he the law of parliament? If it be not, the house of commons had no legal autho- rity 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 he wrong be- cause it has never been done before? No. But, admitting it were proper to be done, that alone does not convey an 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 birth-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 exor- bitant and so unconstitutional, at least let it be given them by an act of the legislature. PHILO JUNIUS. JUNIUS. 113 LETTER XVIII. To Sir William Blackstone, Solicitor General of her Majesty, SIR, July 29, 1769. I SHALL make you no apology for con- sidering a certain pamphlet, in which your late conduct is defended, as written by yourself. The personal interest, the personal resentments, and, above all, that wounded spirit, unaccustomed to reproach, and, I hope, not frequently conscious of deserving it, are signals which betray the au- thor to us as plainly as if your name were in the title-page. You appeal to the public in defence of your reputation. We hold it, sir, that an inju- ry offered to an individual is interesting to socie- ty. On this principle, the people of England made common cause with Mr. Wilkes. On this principle, if you are injured, they will join in your resentment. I shall not follow you through the insipid form of a third person, but address myself to you directly. You seem to think the channel of a pamphlet more respectable, and better suited to the dignity of your cause, than that of a newspaper. Be it so. Yet, if newspapers are scurrilous, you must con- fess they are impartial. They give us, without any apparent preference, the wit and argument of the ministry, as well as the abusive dullness of VOL. I. 10* 114 JUNIUS. the opposition. The scales are equally poised. It is not the printer's fault if the greater weight in- clines the balance. Your pamphlet, then, is divided into an attack upon Mr. Grenville's character, and a defence of your own. It would have been more consis- tent, perhaps, with your professed intention, to have confined yourself to the last. But anger has some claim to indulgence, and railing is usually a relief to the mind. I hope you have found benefit from the experiment. It is not my design to enter into a formal vindication of Mr. Grenville upon his own principles. I have neither the honour of being 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 opini- ons, or to his conduct, when your pamphlet alone carries, upon the face 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 resentment; 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 re- ceived upon the spot a sufficient chastisement for exercising so unfairly his talents of misrepresenta- *Mr. Grenville had quoted a passage from the doc- tor's excellent Commentaries, which directly contra- dicted the doctrine maintained by the doctor in the liouse of commons. JUNIUS. 115 tioii. You are a lawyer, sir, and know better than I do upon what particular occasions a talent for misrepresentation may be fairly 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 revealed to the house of com- mons. I hope this doctrine has no existence but in your own heart. After all, sir, if you had con- sulted that sober discretion which you seem to oppose with triumph to the honest jollity of a tavern, it might have occurred to you, that, al- though 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 Mere- dith had hastily adopted the false glosses of his new ally, is ot the same sort with the first. It con- veys 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 not it be true ? The remainder of your reflections upon Mr. Grenville's conduct de- stroy themselves. He could not possibly come prepared to traduce your integrity to the house ; he could not foresee that you would even speak upon the question; much less could he foresee that you would maintain a direct contradiction of that doctrine which you had solemnly, disinter- estedly, and, upon the soberest reflection, deliver- 116 JUNIUS. ed to the public. He came armed, indeed, with what he thought a respectable authority, to sup- port what ho was convinced was tho cause of truth ; and, I doubt not, he intended to give you, in the course of the debate, an honorable 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 consider it as the lan- guage 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 mat- ter of record : it can neither be altered by your friends, nor misrepresented b}' 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 sta- tute or the custom of parliament) concludes with these general comprehensive words, " but subject to these restriciions and disqualifica- tions, every subject of the realm is eligible of common right," — a reader, of plain understand- ing, must of course rest satisfied that no species of disqualification whatsoever had been omitted. The known character of tlie author, and the ap- parent accuracy with which the. whole work is JUNIUS. 117 compiled, would confirm him in his opinion: nor could he possibly form any other judgment, with- out 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 affect, a snare 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 sub- sequent 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 deter- mine. 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 possi- bility of such a case, and told us how far the house of commons were authorised to proceed in it by the law and custom of parliament. The freeholders of Middlesex w^ould 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 disabili- *If, in stating the law upon any point, a judge de- liberately affirms that he has included every case, and it should appear that he has purposely omitted a ma- terial case, he does, in efTect, lay a snare for the un- wary. 118 JUNIUS. ties which affect wliole 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 an individual. You can- not but know, sir, that 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 no- tice of a right and privilege of the house more extraordinary and more arbitrary than all the others they possess put together. If the expul- sion of a member, not under any legal disability, of itself creates in him an incapacity to be elect- ed, 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 not make this ex- travagant use of their power would be a language unfit for a man so learned in the laws as you are. By 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 contrar^s JUNIUS. 119 your justiilcation of yourself is full ofsubtilty and refinement, and in some places not very intelligi- ble. If I were personally your enemy, I should dwell with a malignant pleasure upon those great and useful qualifications which you certainly pos- sess, 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 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 pun- ishment it deserves to your closet and to yourself. JUNIUS. LETTER XIX. Addressed to the Printer of the Public Advertiser* SIR, August 14, 1769. A correspondent of the St. James's Even- ing Post first wilfully misunderstands Junius, then censures him for a bad reasoner. Junius does not say that it was incumbent upon doctor Black- stone to foresee and state the crimes for which Mr. Wilkes was expelled. If, by a spirit of pro- phecy, 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 expell- ed, but, generally, whether by the law of parlia- 120 JUNIUS. ment expulsion alone creates a disqualification. If the affirmative be the law of parliament, doC» tor Blackstone might and should have told us so. The question is not confined to this or that par- ticular 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: doc- tor Blackstone, while he was speaking in the house of commons, never once thought of his Com- mentaries, until the contradiction was unexpect- edly urged, and stared him in the face. Instead of defending himself upon the spot, he sunk under the charge in an agony of confusion and despair. It was well known that there was a pause of some minutes in the house, from a general expectation that the doctor would say something in his own defence; but it seems his faculties were too much overpowered to think of those subtleties and re- finements which have since occurred to him. It was then Mr. Grenville received that severe chas- tisement which the doctor mentions with so much triumph : I tcish the honourable gentleman, instead of shaking his heady would shake a good argu- ment out of it. If to the elegance, novelty, and bitterness of this ingenious sarcasm, we add the natural melody of the amiable sir Fletcher Nor- ton'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 be quiet. If not, he may, perhaps, hear again from Junius himself. ' PHILO JUNIUS. JUNIUS. 121 Postscript to a pamphlet entitled An Answer to the Question stated; supposed to be written by Dr. Blackstone, solicitor to the queen, in an- swer to Junius's letter. Since these papers were sent to the press, a writer, in the public papers, who subscribes him- self Junius, has made a feint of bringing this question to a short issue. Though the foregoing observations contain, in my opinion at least, a full refutation of all that this writer has offered, I shall, however, bestow a very few words upon him. It will cost me very little trouble to unravel ^and expose the sophistry of his argument. " I take the question," says he, " to be strictly 'this : Whether or no it be the known established taw of parliament, that the expulsion of a mem- ber 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; and that any other candidate, who, except the person expelled, has the greatest num- ber of votes, ought to be the sitting member." Waving, for the present, any objection I may have to this state of the question, I shall venture to meet our champion upon his own ground; and attempt .to support the affirmative of it, in one of the two ways by which he says it can be alone fairly supported. " If there be no statute," says he, "in which the specific disability is clearly created, &c. (and we acknowledge there is none)* 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 VOL. I. 11 122 JUNIUS. them." Now I assert that this has been done. Mr. Walpole's case is strictly in point, to prove that expulsion creates absolute incapacity of being re-elected. This was the clear decision of the house upon it; and was a full declaration that in- capacity was the necessary consequence of expul- sion. The law was as clearly and firmly fixed by this resolution, and is as binding in every subse- quent case of expulsion, as if it had been declar- ed by an express statute that a "member, expel, led by a resolution of the house of commons, shall be deemed incapable of being re-elected." What- ever doubt, then, there might have been of tho law, before Mr. Walpole's case, with respect to the full operation of a vote of expulsion, there can be none now. The decision of the house,- upon this case, is strictly in point, to prove that expulsion creates absolute incapacity in law of being re-elected. But incapacity in law, in this instance, must have the same operation and effect with incapaci- ty in law in every other instance. Now, inca- pacity of being re-elected implies, in its very terms, that any votes given to the incapable per- son, at a subsequent election, are null and void. This is its necessary operation, or it has no opera- tion at all : it is vox et prceterea nihil. We can no more be called upon to prove this proposition, than we can to prove that a dead man is not alive, or that twice two are four. When the terms are understood, the proposition is self-evident. Lastly, it is, in all cases of election, the known and established law of the land, grounded upon the clearest principles of reason and commoD JUNIUS. 123 sense, that if the votes given to one candidate are null and void, they cannot be opposed to the votes given to another candidate; they cannot affect the votes of such candidate at all. As they have, on the one hand, no positive quality to add or esta- blish, so have they, on the other hand, no nega- tive one to subtract or destroy. They are, in a word, a mere nonentity. Such was the determina- tion of the house of commons in the Maiden and Bedford election; cases strictly in point to the present question, as far as they are meant to be in point ; and to say that they are not in point in all circumstances, in those particularly which are independent of the proposition which they are quoted to prove, is to say no more than that Mai- den is not Middlesex, nor serjeant Comyns Mr. Wilkes. Let us see then how our proof stands. Expul- sion creates incapacity, incapacity annihilates any votes given to the incapable person; the votes given to the qualified candidate stand, upon their own bottom, firm and untouched, and can alone have effect. This, one would think, would be sufficient. But we are stopped short, and told that none of our precedents come home to the pre- sent case, and are challenged to produce "a pre- cedent in all the proceedings of the house of com- mons that does come home to it, viz. where an ex- pelled member has been returned again, and ano- ther candidate, with an inferior number oj votes, has been declared the sitting member." Instead of a precedent, 1 will beg leave to put a case, which, I fancy, will be quite as decisive to the present point. Suppose another Sacheve- 124 JUNIUS. rel (and every party must have its Sacheverell) should, at' some future election, take it into his head to offer himself a candidate for the county of Middlesex. He is opposed by a candidate vi^hose coat is of a different colour, but, however, of a very good colour. The divine has an indisputable majority; nay, the poor layman is absolutely dis- tanced. The sheriff, after having had his con- science well informed by the reverend Casuist, returns him, as he supposes, duly elected. The whole house is in an uproar at the apprehension of so strange an appearance amongst them. A motion, however, is at length made, that the per- son was incapable of being elected; that his elec- tion, therefore, is null and void; and that his com- petitor ought to have been returned. No, says a great orator, first show me your law for this pro- ceeding. Either produce me a statute, in which the specific disability of a clergyman is created; or produce me a precedent, where a clergyman lias been returned, and another candidate, with an inferior number of votes, has been declared the sit-^ ting member. No such statute, no such prece- dent, to be found. What answer then is to be given to this demand? The very same answer which I will give to that of Junius. That there is more than one precedent in the proceedings of the house, " where an incapable person has been returned, and another candidate, with an inferior number of votes, has been declared the sitting member; and that this is the known and establish- ed law, in all cases of incapacity, from whatevei,^ cause it may arise." I shall now, therefore, beg leave to make a JUNIUS. 125 sKght amendment to Junlus's state of the qnes- tion, the affirmative of which will then stand thns: "It is the known and established law of par- liament, that the expulsion of any member of the house of commons creates in him an incapacity of being re-elected; that any votes given to him at a subsequent election are, in consequence of such incapacity, null and void; and that any other can- didate, who, except the person rendered incapa- ble, has the greatest number of votes, ought to be the sitting member." But our business is not yet quite finished. Mr. Walpole's case must have a re-hearing. "It is not possible," says the writer, "to conceive a case more 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 min- istry, petitioned the house that he might be the sit- ting 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 ihe same. It came regularly before the house, and it was their business to de- termine upon it. They did determine it; for they declared Mr. Taylor ?io^ duly elected.^^ Instead of examining the justness of this repre- sentation, I shall beg leave to oppose against it my own view of this case, in as plain a manner and as few words as I am able. It was the known and established law of parlia- ment, when the charge against Mr. Walpole came before the house of commons, that they had power VOL. I. 11* 126 JUNIUS. to expel, to disable, and to render incapable for offences. In virtue of this power they expelled him. Had they, in the very vote of expulsion, ad- judged him, in terms, to be incapable of being re-elected, there must have been at once an end with him. But though the right of the house, both to expel and adjudge him incapable, was clear and indubitable, it does not appear to me that the full operation and effect of a vote of ex- pulsion was singly so. The law in this case had never been expressly declared; there had been no event to call up such a declaration. I trouble not myself with the grammatical meaning of the word expulsion; I regard only its legal meaning. This was not, as I think, precisely fixed. The house thought proper to fix it, and explicitly to declare the full consequences of their former vote, before they suffered these consequences to take effect : and in this proceeding they acted upon the most liberal and solid principles of equity, justice, and law. What then did the burgesses of Lynn col- lect from the second vote? Their subsequent con- duct will tell us: it will with certainty tell us that they considered it as decisive against Mr. Wal- pole. It will also, with equal certainty, tell us, that, upon a supposition that the law of election stood then as it does now, and that they knew it to stand thus, they inferred, "that, at a future election, and in case of a similar return, the house would receive the same candidate, as duly elected, whom they had before rejected." They could infer nothing but this. It is needless to repeat the circumstance of dis- . JUNIUS. 127 similarity in the present case: it will be sufficient to observe, that, as the law of parliament, upon which the house of commons grounded every step of their proceedings, was clear beyond the reach of doubt, so neither could the freeholders of Mid- dlesex be at a loss to foresee what must be the in- evitable consequence of their proceedings in oppo- sition to it; for, upon every return of Mr. Wilkes, the house made inquiry whether any votes were given to any other candidate. But I could venture, for the experiment's sake even to give this writer the utmost he asks; to al- low the most perfect similarity throughout, in these two cases; to allow that the law of expulsion was quite as clear to the burgesses of Lynn as to the freeholders of Middlesex. It will, I am con- fident, avail his cause but little. It will only prove, that the law of election, at that time, was different from the present law. It will prove, that, in all cases of an incapable candidate re- turned, the law than was, that the whole election should be void. But now we know that this is not law. The cases of Maiden and Bedford were, as has been seen, determined upon other and more just principles; and these .determinations are, I imagine, admitted on all sides to be law. I would willingly draw a veil over the remain- ing part of this paper. It is astonishing, it is painful, to see men of parts and ability giving in to the most unworthy artifices and descending so much below their true line of character. But, if they are not the dupes of their sophistry, (which is hardly to be conceived) let them consider that they are eomething much worse. 128 JUNIUS. The dearest interests of this country are its laws and its constitution. Against every attack upon these, there will, I hope, be always found amongst us the firmest spirit of resistance, supe- rior to the united efforts of faction and ambition : for ambition, though it does not always take the lead of faction, will be sure, in the end, to make the most fatal advantage of it, and draw it to its own purposes. But, I trust, our day of trial is yet far oif ; and there is a fund of good sense in this country wliich cannot long be deceived by the arts either of false reasoning or false patriotism. LETTER XX. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser, SIR, August 8, 1769, THE gentleman who has published an an- swer to Sir William Meredith's pamphlet, having honoured me with a postscript of six quarto pages, which he modestly 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 learn- ed, but simply to inform the body of the people- and I prefer that channel of conveyance which is JUNIUS. 129 likely to spread fartliest among them. The ad- vocates 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 are 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 cus. torn 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 asserts, that the case of Mr. Walpole is strictly in point, to prove that expulsion creates an absolute in- capacity 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 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 resent- ment. 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 vacat- ed, I dare say he would be well satisfied if they were for ever blotted out of the journals of the house of commons. In fair argument, no part of a precedent shoud be admitted, unless the whole of it be given to us together. The author has 130 JUNIUS. divided his precedent; for he knew, that, taken to- gether, it produced a consequence directly the re- verse of that which he endeavours to draw from a vote of expulsion. But what will this honest per- son 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 his expul- sion 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 be 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, * It is well worth remarking, that the compiler of a certain quarto, called The Case of the last Election for the County of Middlesex considered, has the im- pudence to recite this very vote in the following terms (vide page 11): "Resolved, that Robert Walpole, esq. having been this session of parliament expelled: the house, was, and is, incapable of being elected a mem- ber to serve in the present parliament." There can not be a stronger positive proof of the treachery of the compiler, nor a stronger presumptive proof that he was convinced that the vote, if duty recited, would over- turn his whole argument JUNIUS. 131 lo my understanding, no proposition of this kind can be more evident, tlian that tlie house of com- mons, by this very vote, themselves understood, and meant to declare, that Mr. Walpole's incapa- city 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 ex- pelled, 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 oi his crimes in the same vote would have been highly improper. It could only perplex the minds of the electors, who, if they collected any thing irom so confused a declaration of the law of par- liament, must have concluded, that their represen- ■latve had been declared incapable because he Was highly guilty, not because he had been pun- ished. But, even admitting them to have un- derstood 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 sxpulsion; and considered his incapacity as •the joint effect of both.* '^Addressed to the Printer of the Public Advertiser* SIR, May 22, 1771. VERY early in the debate upon the decision of *^Jie Middlesex election, it was observed by Junius, 132 JUNIUS. I do not mean to give an opinion upon the jus- tice of the proceedings of the house of commons with regard to Mr. Walpole; but certainly, if I that the house of commons had not only exceeded their boasted precedent of the expulsion and subsequent incapacitation of Mr. Walpole, but that they had not even adhered to it strictly as tar as it went. After con- victing Mr. Dyson of giving a false quotation from the journals, and having explained the purpose which that contemptible fraud was intended to answer, he pro^' ceeds to state the vote itself by which Mr. Walpole^ supposed incapacity was declared, viz. "Resolved, that Robert Walpole, esq. having been this session of par^ liament committed a prisoner to the Tower, and expellei this house for a high breach of trust in the executicfS'' of his office, and notorious corruption when secretary at war, was, and is incapable ;of being elected a men-' ber to serve in this present parliament," and then cb-' serves, 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 ans©^^ equally from the expulsion and the commitment to :he Tuwer. I believe, sir, no man, who knows any thing of dialectics, or who understands English, will dispute the truth and fairness of this construction. But Jutiiis 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 contains an admonition, which cannot be'repeated too often. Lord Sommers, in his excellent tract upon the Rights of the People, after reciting the votes of the convention of the 28th of January, 1689, viz. "That king James the Second, having endeavoured to subvert the constitution of this kingdom, by breaking the original contract be- tweert king and people, and, by the advice of Jesuits, and other wicked persons, having violated the funda- mental 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 foregoing, as well as to his JUNIUS. 133 admitted their censure to be well founded, I could no way avoid agreeing with them in the conse- quence they drew from it. I could never have a 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 withdraw ing, lord Sommers farther observes, That king James^ hy refusing to govern us according to that law by lohich he held the crown, did impliedly renounce his title to it. If Junius''s construction of the vote against Mr. Walpole be now admitted (and, indeed, I cannot com* prehend how it can honestly be disputed) the advocates of the house of commons must either give up their pre- cedent entirely, or be reduced to the necessity of main- taining one of the grossest absurdities imaginable, viz. "That a commitment to the Tower is a 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 those 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 under- stood the question, or knew the consequence of what they were doing. Their motives were rather despica- ble 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 constitu- ents with a mark of disgrace, they would not dare to expel him; because they know that the people, in or- der to try again the great question of right, or to thwart an odious house of commons, would probably VOL. I, 12 134 JUNIUS. doubt, in law or reason, that a man convicted oi' a high breach of trust, and of a notorious corrup- tion, in the execution of a pubUc office, was, and ought to be, incapable of sitting in the same par- liament. Far from attempting to invalidate that vote, I should have wished that the incapacity de- clared by it could legally have been continued for ever. Now, sir, observe how forcibly the argument returns. The house of commons, upon the face of their proceedings, had the strongest motives to declare Mr. Walpole incapable of being re-elect- ed. They thought such a man unworthy to sit among them. To that pomt they proceeded, and no fartlier; 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 wliich my ho- nest friend assures us is strictly in point, to prove, that expulsion ol itself creates an incapacity of overlook his immediate unworthiness, and return the same person to parliamont. But, in time, the prece- dent will gain strength; a future hou^c of commons v,ill have no such apprehensions; consequenlly, will not scru- ple to follow a precedent which they did not estahlish. 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. riilLO JUNIUS. JUNIUS. 135 being elected. If it had been so, tlic present liouse 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, in- deed, a precedent so strongly in point, that all the enchanted castles of jyiinisterial magic fall be- fore it. In the year 1698 (a period which the rank- est Tory dares not except against) Mr. Wollas- ton 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. Jet 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 compre- hends 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 Maiden, the incapacity of the persons returned was matter of public noto- riety, for it was created by act of parliament. But really, sir, my honest friend's suppositions are as unfavourable to him as his facts. He well knows that the clergy, besides that they are ^'^- 136 JUNIUS. presented in common with their fellow subjects, have also separate parliament of their own; that their incapacity to sit in the house of commons has been confirmed by repeated decisions of that house; and that the law of parliament, declared by those decisions, has been, for above two cen- turies, notorious and undisputed. The author is certainly at liberty to fancy cases, and make whatever comparisons he thinks proper: his sup- positions still continue as distant from fact as his wild discourses are from solid argument. The conclusion of his book is candid to an ex- treme. He offers to grant me all I desire. He thinks he may safely admit, that the case of Mr. Wal- pole makes directly against him; for it seems he has one grand solution in petto for all difficulties. "If (says he) I were to allow all this, it will only prove 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 declar- ed. What can he mean? Does he assume this language to satisfy the doubts of the people, or 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 un- make the law of parliament, at their pleasure? Does the law of parliament, which we are 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 JUNIUS. 137 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 fluc- tuating 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 foUow- subjects. I have done it to the best of my under- standing; and, without looking for the approba^ tion of other men, my conscience is satisfied. What remains to be done, concerns the collec- tive body of the people. They are now to deter- mine for themselves, whether they will firmly and constitutionally assert their rights, or make an humble, slavish surrender of them at the feet of the minitsry. To a generous mind there cannot be a doubt. We owe it to our ancestors, to pre- serve 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 interest, 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 a bare existence: and if life be the bounty of Heaven, we scornfully reject the no- blest part of the gift, if we consent to sur^nder that certain rule of living, without which the condition of human nature is not only miserable but contemptible. JUNIUS. VOL. I. 12* 138 JUNIUS. LETTER XXI. To the Printer of the Puhlic Advertiser. SIR, August 22, 1769. I MUST beg of you to print a ?e\v 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 am- biguous in the expression, I beg leave to explain it, by saying, that, in my opinion, expulsion nei- ther 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 re- solution. 3. I never meant to affirm, that a commitment to the Tower created a disquahfication. — On the contrary, I considered that idea as an absurdity. JUNIUS. 139 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 sit in the same parliament. This proposition they have uniformly maintained, without any condition or modification whatsoever, Mr. Wol- laston 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 plain matter of fact, or mere nonsense or declamation. JUNIUS. LETTER XXII. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser, September 4, 1769. ARGUMENT against Fact; or, a new Sys- tem 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, aliasj That a subject of this realm may be robbed of his common right by a vote of the house of commons. 140 JUNIUS. FIRST FACT. Mr, WoUaston, in 1698, was exj^eUed^^e-electedy and admitted to take his seat. ARGUMENT. As this cannot conveniently be reconciled with our general proposition, it may be necessary to shift our ground, and look back to the cause of Mr. Wollaston's expulsion. Fjom thence it will appear clearly, that, "although he was expelled, he had not rendered himself a culprit, too igno- minious to sit in parliament; and that, having re- signed his employment, he was no longer incapa- citated by law." VUie Serious Considerations, page 23. Or thus: "The house, somewhat in- accurately, used the word expelled; they should have called it a motion,^^ Vide Mungo^s Case considered, page 11. Or, in short, if these argu- ments should be thought insufficient, we may fairly deny the fact. For example: "I affirm that he was not re-elected. The same Mr. WoUaston, who was expelled, was not again elected. The same individual, if you please, walked into the house, and took his seat there; but the same per- son, in law, was not admitted a member of that parliament from which he had been discarded." Vide Letter to Junius, page 12. SECOND FACT. Mr. Walpole, having been committed to the Tower, and expelled, for a high breadi of trust, JUNIUS. 141 and notorious corruption in a public office^ was declared incapable, 4*c. ARGUMENT. From the terms of this vote, nothing can l)e more evident, than that the house of commons meant to fix the incapacity upon the punishment, and not upon the crime; but, less it should ap- pear in a different light to weak, uninformed per- sons, it may be advisable to get the resolution, and give it to the public, with all possible so- lemnity, in the following terms, viz. "Resolved, that Robert Walpole, esq. having been that ses- sion of parliament expelled the house, was and is incapable ol being elected a member to serve in that present parliament." Vide Mungo, on the Use of Quotations, page 11. N. B. The author of the answer to Sir William Meredith seems to have made use of Mungo's quotation: for, in page 18, he assures us, "That the declaratory vote of the 17th of Fejbruary, 1769, was, indeed, a literal copy of the resolution of the house in Mr. AValpole's case." THIRD FACT. His opponent Mr, Taylor, having the smallest number of votes at the next election, was declared not duly elected, ARGUMENT. This fact we consider as directly in point, to prove, that Mr. Luttrell ought to be the sitting 142 JUNIUS. member, for the following reasons: "The bur- gesses of Lynn could draw no other inference from this resolution but this; that, at a future election, and in case of a similar return, the house would receive the same candidate as duly elected whom they had before rejected." Vide Post- script to Junius, page 37. Or thus: "This, their resolution, leaves no room to doubt what part they would have taken, if, upon a subsequent re- election of Mr. Walpole, there had been any other candidate in competition with him: for by their vote, they could have no other intention than to admit such other candidate." Vide Mun- go^s Case considered, page 39. Or, take it in this light: the burgesses of Lynn having, in de- fiance of the house, retorted upon them a person whom they had branded with the most ignomini- ous marks of their displeasure, were thereby so well entitled to favour and indulgence, that the house could do no less than rob Mr. Taylor of a right legally vested in him, in order that the bur- gesses might be apprised of the law of parliament; which law the house took a very direct way of ex- plaining to them, by resolving that the candidate with the fewest votes was not duly elected: "And was not this much more equitable, more in the spirit of that equal and substantial justice which is theendof alllaw, than if they had violently adher- ed to the strict maxims of law?" Vide Serious Considerations, page 33 and 34. "And if the present house of commons had chosen to follow the spirit of this resolution, they would have re- ceived and established the candidate with the fewest votes." Vide Ansioer to sir W. M. paaie 18. JUNIUS. 143 Permit me now, sir, to show you, that the wor- thy Dr. Blackstone sometimes contradicts the ministry, as well as himself. The speech without doors asserts, page 9th, "That the legal effect of an incapacity, founded on a judicial determina- tion of a competent court, is precisely the same as that of an incapacity created by an act of parha- ment." Now for the doctor. "The law, and the opinion of the judge, are not always converti- ble terms, or one and the same thing; since it sometimes m-ay happen, that the judge may mis- take the law." Conwientaries, vol. i. p. 71. The answer to sir W. M. asserts, page 23, "That the returning officer is not a judicial, but a purely ministerial oflicer. Flis return is no ju- dicial act." At 'em again, doctor. "The sheriff, in his judicial capacity, is to hear and determine causes of forty shillings value, and under, in his county court. He has also a judicial power in divers other civil cases. He is likewise to decide the elections of knights of the shire (subject to the control of the house of commons,) to judge of the qualification of voters, and to return such as he shall determine to be duly elected," Vide Commentaries, vol. i. p. 332. What conclusion shall we draw from such facts, and such arguments, such contradictions? I can- not express my opinion of the present ministry more exactly than in the words of sir Richard Steele, "That we are governed by a set of dri« vellers, whose folly takes away all dignity from distress, and makes even calamity ridiculous." PHILO JUNIUS. 144 JUNIUS, LETTER XXIIL To his Grace the Duke of Bedford. MY LORD, September 19, 1769. 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 esta- blished character, and, perhaps, an insult to your understanding. You have nice feelings, my lord, if v^^e may judge from your resentments. Cau- tious, therefore, of giving offence, where you have so little deserved it, I shall leave the illus- tration of your virtues to other hands. Your friends have privilege to play upon the easiness of your temper, or, possibly, they are better ac- quainted with your good qualities than I am. You have done good by stealth. The rest is upon re- cord. You have still left ample room for specula- tion,when panegyric is exhausted. You are, indeed, a very considerable man. The highest rank, a splendid fortune, and a name, glorious, till it was yours, were sufficient to have supported you with meaner abilities than I think you possess. From the first, you derive a con- stitutional claim to respect; from the second, a JUNIUS. 145 niitural extensive authority; the last created a partial expectation of hereditary virtues. The use you have, made of these uncommon advanta- ges miglit have been more honourable to yourself, but could not be more instructive to mankind. We may trace it in the veneration of your coun- try, the choice of your friends, and in the accom- plishment ofevery sanguine hope which the public might have conceived from the illustrious name of Russell. The eminence of your station gave you. a com- manding prospect of your duty. The road which led to honour was open to your view. You could not loss it by mistake, and you had no temptation to depart from it by design. Compare the natural dignity and importance of the highest peer of Eng- land: the noble 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; com- pare these glorious distinctions, with the ambition 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 an- guish how much real importance and authority you have lost. Consider the character of an independ- ent, 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 vvill tell you in theory what such a man might be. Conscious of his own weight and importanc8j VOL. I, 13 146 JUNIUS. 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. WiUing to support the just measures of government, but determined to observe the con- duct of the minister with suspicion, he would oppose the violence of faction with as much firm- ness as the encroachments of prerogative. He would be as little capable of bargaining with the minister for places for himself or his dependents, 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 defer- ence and respect. His authority would either sanction or disgrace the measures of government. The people would look up to him as to their pro- tector; 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 the will of Providence to afflict* him with a domestic misfortune, he would submit to the stroke with feeling, but not without dignity. He would consider the people as his children, and receive a generous, heartfelt consolation, in the sympathizing tears and blessings of his country. Your grace may probably discover something more intelligible in the negative part of this illus- trious character. The man I have described would never prostitute his dignity in parliament, by an indecent violence, either in opposing or * The duke had lately lost his only son by a fall from his horto. JUNIUS. 147 defending a minister. He would not at one mo- ment rancorously persecute, at another basely cringe to, the favourite of his sovereign. After outraging the royal dignity with peremptory con- ditions, 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 friend- ship. 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 jockeys, 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 dependents ; of supplying their vices, or relieving their begga- ry, at the expense 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 purchasef and sale of a borough. He would not have thought it consistent with his rank in the state, or even with his personal * At this interview, which passed at the house of the late lord Eglintoune, lord Bute told the duke, that he was determined neyerto have any connexion with a man who had so basely betrayed him. f In an answer in chancery, in a suit against him to recover a large sum, paid him by a person whom he had undertaken to return to parliament for one of his grace's boroughs, he was compelled to repay the mo- ney. 148 JUNIUS. importance, to be the little tyrant of a little corpo- ration.* He would never have been insulted with virtues which he had laboured to extinguish; nor suffered the disgrace of a mortifying defeat, which has made him ridiculous and contemptible even to the few by whom he was not detested. I rever- ence the afflictions of a good man; his sorrows are sacred. But how can we take part in the dis- tresses of a man whom we can neither love or es- teem; 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 consola- tion for the loss of an only son, in consultations and bargains for a place at court, and even in the misery of ballotting at the India-House? Admitting, then, that you have mistaken or de- serted those honourable principles which ought to have directed your conduct; admitting that you have as little claim to private affection as to pub- lic 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 ear- • Of Bedford, where the tyrant was held in such con- tempt and detestation, that, in order to deliver them- selves frona him, they admitted a great number of stran- gers to the freedom. To make his defeat truly ridicu- lous, he tried his whole strength against Mr. Home, and was beaten upon his own ground. JUNIUS. 149 lier days, you thought it an honour to be distin- guished;* tlic recorded stripes, the pubHc 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 king- doms, except France, in which, at one time or other, your valuable life has not been in danger. Amiable man ! we see and acknowledge the pro- tection of Providence, by which you have so often escaped the personal detestation of your fellow- subjects, and are still reserved for the public jus- tice of your country. Your history begins to be important at that auspicious period, at which you were deputecJto represent the earl of Bute at the court of Ver- sailles. It was an honourable office, and exefcuted with the same spirit with which it was accepted. Your patrons wanted an ambassador who would submit to make concessions, without daring to in- sist upon any honourable condition for his sove- * Mr. Heston Humphrey, a country attorney, horse- whipped the duke, with equal justice, security, and perseverance, on the course at Litchfield. Rigby and lord Trentham were also cudgelled in a most exem- plary manner. This gave rise to the following story: '< When the late king heard that sir Edward Hawke had given the French a drubbing, his majesty, who had never received that kind of chastisement, was pleased to ask lord Chesterfield the meaning of the word.—" Sir," says lord Chesterfield, "the meaning of the word. — But here comes the duke of Bedford, who is better able to explain it to your majesty than I am." VOL. I. 13* 150 JUNIUS. reign. Their business required a man who had as little feeling for his own dignity, as for the wel- fare of his country; and they found him in the first rank of the nobility. Belleisle, Goree, Guada- loupe, St. Lucia, Martinique, The Fishery, and the Havana, are glorious monuments of your - grace's talents for negotiatian. 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 a moment at which he meant to have resisted, had not a fatal lethargy prevail- ed 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 f an admi- nistration which lord Bute pretended to leave in full possession of their ministerial authority, and perfectly masters 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 ♦This man, notwithstanding his pride and Tory prin- ciples, had some English stuff in him. Upon an official letter he wrote to the duke of Bedford, the duke desired to be recalled, and it was with the utmost difficulty that lord Bute could appease him. fMr. Grenville, lord Halifax, and lord Egremont. JUNIUS. 151 violated. After two years' submission, you thought you had collected strength enough to control 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 discretion, 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. It was then lord Weymouth was nominated to Ireland, and despatched (we well remember with what indecent hurry) 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 fa- vourite, 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. Apparent- ly united with Mr. Grenville, you waited until lord Rockingham's feeble administration should * The ministry having endeavoured to exclude the dowager out of the Regency Bill, the earl of Bute de- termined to d;Smiss them. Upon this, the duke of Bed- ford demanded an audience of the , reproached him in plain terms with his duplicity, base- ness, falsehood, treachery, and hypocrisy; repeatedly gave him the lie, and left him in convulsions. t He received three thousand pounds for plate and equipage money. 152 JUNIUS. dissolve in its own weakness. The moment their dismission was suspected, the moment you per- ceived 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 in- terview, at which he had spirit enough to treat you with contempt. It would now be of little use to point out by what a train of weak, injudicious measures, it be- came 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 al- liance with the duke of Grafton, was, I presume, hardly foreseen. We must look for other stipula- tions to account for that sudden resolution of the closet, by which three of your dependentsf (whose characters, I think, cannot be less respected than they are) were advanced to offices, through which you might again control 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 cir- * When earl Gower was appointed President of the council, the king, v/ith his usual sincerity, assured him, that he had not had one happy moment since the duke of Bedford left hirn. t Lords Gower, Weymouth, and Sandwich- JUNIUS. 153 cumvallation are drawing round him; and, unless he finds a resource in his own activity, or in the attachment of the real friends of his family, the best of princes must 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 may safely resume that style of insult and menace, which even a private gentle- man cannot submit to hear without being con- temptible. Mr. M'Kenzie's history is not yet for- gotten; and you may find precedents enough of the mode in which an imperious subject may sig- nify 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 alii- ance 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 ac complished, and your most sanguine wishes grati- fied, in the fear as well as the hatred of the peo- ple; can age itself forget that you are now in the last act of life ? Can gray hairs make folly vene- rable? 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 mo- ments of your life were dedicated to the same un- worthy pursuits, the same busy agitations, in which your yonth 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. 154 JUNIUS. 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 Woburn, scorn and mockery await him. He must create a solitude round his estate, if he would avoid the face of reproach and deri- sion. At Plymouth, his destruction would be more than probable; at Exeter, inevitable. No honest Englishman will ever forget his attach- ment, nor any honest Scotchman forgive his trea- chery, to lord Bute. At every town he enters, he must change his liveries and name. Which- ever 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 Verves have returned to 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 JUNIUS. 155 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 bad charac- ter. Even now they tell you that Hfe is no more than a dramatic scene, in which the hero should preserve his consistency to the last; and that as you lived without virtue, you should die without repentance. JUNIUS. LETTER XXIV. To Junius. SIR, September 14, 1769. HAVING accidentally seen a republica- tion of your letters, wherein you have been pleas- ed to assert, 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 156 JUNIUS. must the nation think of you? Party has nothing to do in this affair : you have made a personal at- tack upon my honour, defamed me by a most vile calumny, which might possibly have 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 often- times false, though it may appear brilliant; which is exactly the case of your whole performance. But, sir, I am obliged, in the most serious man- ner, to accuse you of bein^ guilty of falsities. You have said the thing that is not. To support your story, you have recourse to the following irre- sistible argument: " You sold the companions of your victory, because, when the 16th regiment was given to you, you were silent. The conclusion is inevitable." I believe that such deep and acute reasoning could only come from such an extraor- dinary 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 Manilla- ransom, since the time of my being colonel of that regiment. As I have for some years quitted Lon- don, I -was obliged to have recourse to the honour- able colonel Monson, and sir Samuel Cornish, to negotiate for me. In the last autumn, I personal- ly 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 common bribe, you may, in all probability, be not unknown to his lordship, JUNIUS. 157 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 arid tinsel logic could carry the least weight or conviction with it, how must you stand affected by the inevitable conclusion, as you are pleased to term it? According to Junius, silence is guilt. In many of the public papers, you- have been called, in the most direct and offensive terms, a liar and a coward. When did you re- ply to these foul 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 liar 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 can- not bear any longer your lion's skin, and the des- picable imposture of the old Roman name which you have affected. For the future, assume 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 plough- shares are of female chastity; but a soldier's ho- nour is as delicate as a woman's : it must not be * Was Brutus an ancient bravo and dark assassin? Or does sir W. D. think it criminal to stab a tyrant to the heart? VOL. I. 14 158 JUNIUS. suspected. You have dared to throw more than a suspicion upon mine: you cannot but know the consequences, which even the meekness ot Chris- tianity would pardon me for, after the injury you have done me. WILLIAM DRAPER. LETTER XXV. Haeret lateri lethalis arundo. To Sir William Draper, Knight of the Bath. SIR, September 25, 1769. AFTER so long an interval, I did not ex- pect to see the debate revived between us. My answer to your last letter 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 provoca- tion, 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 sol- dier. You were content to set your -name in op- position to a man who would probably continue in concealment. You understood the terms upon which we were to correspond, and gave at least JUNIUS. 159 a tacit assent to them. After voluntarily attack- ing me, under the character of Junius, what pos- sible 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 a catch-penny contrivance of a printer, in which it was impos- sible I should be concerned, and for which I am no way answerable. At the same time, I wish 3^ou to understand, that if I do not take the trou- ble of reprintiiig these papers, it is not from any fear of giving offence 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, whe- ther you seriously think it any way incumbent on 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 discre- tion, 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 suspi- cion. Your complaints with regard to the Ma- nilla ransom, were, for a considerable time, a distress to government. You were appointed (greatly out of your turn) to the command of a regiment; and during that administration we 160 JUNIUS. heard no more of sir William Draper. The facts of which I speak may, indeed, be variously ac- counted for; but they are too notorious to be de- nied; and I think you might have learned, at the university, that a false conclusion is an error in argument, not a breach of veracity. Your solici- tations, 1 doubt not, were renewed under another administration. Admitting the fact, I fear an in- different person would only infer from it, that ex- perience had made you acquainted with the bene- fits of complaining. Remember, sir, that you have yourself confessed, that, considering the cri- tical situation of tills country, the ministry are in the right to temporise with Spain. This confes- sion reduces you to an unfortunate dilemma. By renewing your solicitations, you must either mean to force your country into a war at a r^ost unsea- sonable juncture, or, having no view or expecta- tion of that kind, that you look for nothing but a private compensation for yourself. As to me, it is by no means necessary that I should be exposed to the resentment of the worst and the most powerful men in this country, though I may be indifferent about yours. Though you would fight, there are others who would assassi- nate. But, after all, sir, where is the injury? You assure me, that my logic is puerile and tinsel j 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, JUNIUS. 161 how you indulge this unruly tempei', lest the world should suspect that coiiscience has some share in your resentments. You have more to fear from the treachery of your own passions, than from any rnalevolence of mine. I believe, sir, you will never know me. A con- siderable time must certainly elapse before we are personally acquainted. You need not, how- ever," regret the^delay, or suffer an'^apprehension, that any length of time can restore you to the Chris- tian meekness of your temper, and disappoint your presentjndignation. If I understand your cha- racter, there is in 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 odia in longum ja- cens, qu(B rcconderet, auctaque jJromeret, 1 thought had only belonged to the worst character of an- tiquity. The text is in Tacitus : you know best where to look for the commentary, JUNIUS. VOL. I. 14* 162 JUNIUS. LETTER XXVI. A Word at 'parting to Junius, *siR, October 7, 1769. AS you have not favoured me with either of the explanations demanded of you, I can have nothing more to say to you upon my own account. Your mercy to me, or tenderness for yourself, has been very great. The public will judge of your * Measures and not men, is the common cant of affected moderation: a base counterfeit language, fa- bricated by knaves, and made current among fools. Such gentle censure is not fitted to the present degene- rate state of society. What does it avail to expose the absurd contrivance, or pernicious tendency of measures, if the man who advises or executes, shall be suffered, not only to escape with impunity, but even to preserve his power, and insult us with the favour of his sovereign? 1 would recommend to the reader the whole of Mr. Pope's letter to Doctor Arbuthnot, dated July 26, 1734, from which the following is an extract: *' To reform, and not to chastise, I am afraid, is im- possible; and that the best precepts, as well as the best laws, would prove of small use, if there were no examples to enforce them. To attack vices in the ab- stract, without touching persons, may be safe fighticg, indeed, but it is fighting with shadows. My greatest comfort and encouragement to proceed has been to see, that those who have no shame, and no fear of any thing else, have appeared touched by my satires." JUNIUS. 163 motives. If your excess of modesty forbids you to produce either the proofs or yourself, I will ex- cuse 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 grub or butterfly as myself; like another detested tyrant of antiquity, can make the wretched suf- ferer fit the bed, if the bed will not fit the sufferer, by disjointing or tearing the trembling limbs, un- til they are stretched to its extremity. But cou- rage, constancy, and patience under torments, have sometimes caused the most hardened mon- sters to relent, and forgive the object of their cruelty. You, sir, are determined to try all that human nature can endure, until she expires; else, was it possible that you could be the author of that most inhuman letter to the duke 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 aff'ectionate fa- ther 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 poli- tical questions be discussed, without descending to the most odious personalities? Must you go wan- tonly out of your way to torment declining age, because the duke of Bedford may have quarrelled with those whose cause and politics you espouse ? For shame ! for shame ! As you have spoken dag- gers 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 164 JUNIUS. 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 him most am- ple vengeance. Not all tiie 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 argu- ment) the most extraordinary piece of jlorid im- potence that 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, " 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 in- ferences from it. First prove the avarice, before you make the rash, hasty, and most wicked con- clusion. 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 took care to re- mind 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 economy, as JUNIUS. 165 a master of a family; if splendour, and just mag- nificence, without wild waste and thoughtless ex- travagance, 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 pub- lic. It is a most impudent kind of sorcery to at- tempt to blind us with the smoke, without con- vincing us that the fire has existed. You first brand him with a vice that he is free from, to render him odious and su^ected. 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 journeys impeded, and even the asylum of an altar be insecure from assertions so base and false? Potent as he is, the duke is amenable to justice; if guilty, punishable. The parliament 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; espe- cially 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. Aris- tocracy is as fatal as democracy. Our constitu- 166 JUNIUS. tion admits of neither. It loves a king, lords, and commons, really chosen by the unbought suffrages of a free people. But if corruption only shifts hands, if the worthy commoner gives the bribe instead of the potent peer, is the state better served by this exchange? Is the real emancipa- tion of the borough effected, because new parch- ment 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 worth considering, except for the elegance of the lan- guage. Like Hambet, in the play, you produce two pictures: you tell us, that one is not like the duke of Bedford; then you bring a most hideous caricature, and tell us of the resemblance; but multum ahladit imago. All your long tedious accounts of the ministe- rial quarrels, and the intrigues of the cabinet are reducible to a ^ew short lines; and to convince you, sir, that I do not mean to flatter any minis- ter, 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 minis- terial ^ 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 * Sir William gives us a pleasant account of men, who, in his opinion at least, are the best (qualified iqt govern an empire. JUxNIUS. 16T steadiness: we want unanimity; your letters, Ju- nius, will not contribute thereto. You may one day expire by a flame of your own kindling. But it is my humble opinion, that lenity and modera- tion, pardon and oblivion, will disappoint the effbrts of all the seditious in the land, and extin- guish their wide-spreading fires. I have lived with this sentiment; with this I shall die. WILLIAM DRAPER. LETTER XXVII. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. SIR, October 13, 1769. IF sir William Draper's bed be a bed of tortures, he has made it for himself. I shall never interrupt his repose. Having changed the sub- ject, there are parts of his last letter not unde- serving 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 intelligible. But that a man should be the bitterest enemv of his friends, 168 ' JUNIUS. implies a contradiction of a peculiar nature* There is something in it, which cannot be con- ceived, without a confusion of ideas, nor express- ed, without a solecism in language. Sir William Draper is still that fatal friend lord Granby found him. Yet, 1 am ready to do justice to his gene- rosity; 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 it. I thought, however, he had been better read in the history of the human heart, than to 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 out- ward tyranny can reach the mind. If conscience' plays the tyrant, it would be greatly for the be- nefits of the world that she were more arbitrary, and far less placable, than some men find her. But it seems I have outraged the feelings of a father's fieart. Am I, indeed, so injudiciousT Does sir William Draper think I would have ha- zarded 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 noblest characteristic of Englishmen? Or, how will he reconcile such folly with an under- standing so full of artifice as mine? Had he 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 feel- ings of a father, but the father who felt nothing. JUNIUS. 169 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 di- rected, 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 Wilham 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 possibl-y 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 indif- ference, at my reproaches, and sir Wilham's dis- tress about him. But here let it stop. Even the duke of Bedford, insensible as he is, will consult the tranquillity of his life, in not provoking the moderation of my teriiper. If from the profound- est contempt, I should ever rise into angei-, 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 dis- cuss; and indeed, it would have been a labori- ous undertaking. To draw up a defence of such a series of enormities, would have required a VOL. I. 15 170 JUNIUS. life, at least, as long as that which has been uni- formly employed in the practice of them. The public opinion of the duke of Bedford's extreme economy is, it seems, entirely without foundation. Though not very prodigal abroad, in his own fa- mily, at least, he is regular and magnificent. He pays his debts, abhors a beggar, and makes a hand- some provision for his son. His charity has im- proved upon the proverb, and ended where it be- gan. Admitting the whole force of this single instance of his domestic 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 manifi- cence. Sir William Draper should have entered boldly into the detail of indigence relieved, of arts encouraged, of science patronised, men of learning protected, and works of genius reward- ed. In short, had there been a single instance, besides Mr. Rigby,* of blushing merit, brought forward by the duke for the service of the pub- lic, 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 ano- ther: though I think that, of all the vices, avarice is most apt to taint and corrupt the heart. I com- * This gentleman is supposed to have the same idea of blushing, that a man, bUnd from his birth, has of scarlet or sky blue. JUNIUS. 171 bined the known temper of the man, with the ex- travagant concessions made by the ambassador; and though I doubt not sufficient care was taken to leave no document of any treasonable negotia- tion, I still maintain that the conductf of this minister carries with it an internal and convinc- ing 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 mo- tives of men, by the manifest tendency of their actions, nor by the notorious character of their minds. He calls for papers and witness with 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 interest- ing to mankind, have been received and establish- ed. 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. Fie forgets, that the insults and distresses which the duke ot Bedford has suffered, and which sir William has lamented, with many delicate touches of the true pathetic, were only recorded in my letter to his grace, not occasioned by it. It was a simple, can- did narrative of facts; though, for aught I know, it m.ay carry with it something prophetic. His t If sir W. D. will take the trouble of looking into Torey's Memoirs, he will see v/ith what little ceremony a bribe may be offered to a duke, and with what little ceremony it was only not accepted. 172 JUNIUS. 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. Ho tells us, that the duke of Bedford is amenable to justice; that parlia- ment 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 be- lieved every word of the matter. I hope, indeed, the day of impeaphments will arrive before this nobleman escapes out of life; but, to refer us to that mode of proceeding now, with such a minis- try, and such a house of commons as the present, what is it, but an indecent mockery of the com- mon 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 respect to the present condition of affairs, is too loose and undetermined to be of any service to the public. How strange is it that this gentle- man should dedicate so much time and argument to the defence of worthless or indifferent charac- ters, while he gives but seven sohtary lines to the only subject which can deserve his attention, or do credit to his abilities! JUNIUS. JUNIUS. 173 LETTER XXVIII. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser. SIR, October 19, 1769. 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 virtue which makes her respectable. The question turned upon the per- sonal generosity or avarice of a man, whose pri- vate fortune is immense. The proofs of his mu- nificence must be drawn from the uses to which he has applied that fortune. I was not speaking of a lord lieutenant of Ireland, but of a rich Eng- lish 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 wish- ing 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. JUNIUS. VOL. I. 15* 174 JUNIUS. LETTER XXIX. Addressed to the Printer of the Public Advertiser. SIR, October 19, 1769. I AM well assured that Junius will never descend to a dispute with such a writer as Mo- destus (whose letter appeared in the Gazetteer of Monday), especially as the dispute must be chiefly about words. Notwithstanding the par- tiality of the public, it does not appear that Ju- nius values himself upon any superior skill in composition: and I hope his time will always be more usefully employed than in the trifling refine- ments of verbal criticism. Modestus, however, siiall 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 cautious of attacking Junius upon his composi- tion, as he seems to be of entering into the sub- ject of it : yet, after all, the last is the only arti- cle of any importance to the public. I do not wonder at the unremitted rancour with which the duke of Bedford and his adherents in- variably speak of a nation, which we well know has been too much injured to be easily forgiven. JUNIUS. 175 But why must Junius be an Irishman? The ah- surdity of Ms writings betrays him. Waving all consideration of the insult offered by Modestus to the declared judgment of the people (they may well bear this amongst the rest) let us follow the several instances, and try whether the charge be fairly supported. 1. Then, the leaving, a man to enjoy such a repose as he can find upon a bed of torture, is se- vere 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 frequen- cy of the fact which alone can make us compre- hend 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 compound 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 ob- served, and accurately compared. 3. Modestus could not, without great affecta- tion, mistake the meaning of Junius, when he speaks of a man, who is the bitterest enemy of his friends. He could not but know, that Junius spoke not of a false or hollow friendship, but of a real intention to serve, and that intention pro- ducing the worst effects of enmity. Whether the description be strictly apalicable to sir William 176 JUNIUS. Draper, is another question. Junius does not Bay, that it is more criminal for a man to be the ene- my 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 our- selves merely, is a weakness we may indulge in, if we think proper, for we do it at our own ha- zard and expense; but, under the pretence of friendship, to sport with the reputation, or sacri- fice 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 allow, at least, that it arises from an overween- ing, busy, meddling impudence. Junius says only, and he says truly, that it is more extraordi- nary; 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 Dra- per, I confess, is an exception to the general rule, though not much to his credit. 4. If this gentleman will go back to his ethics, he may, perhaps, discover the truth of what Ju- nius says. That no ouhoard tyranny can reach the mind. The tortures of the body may be intro- duced, by way of ornament or illustration, to re- present those of the mind; but, strictly, there is no similitude between them: they are totally dif- ferent, both in their cause and operation. The wretch who suffers upon the rack is merely pas- sive: but, when the mind is tortured, it is not at JUNIUS. 177 ^he command of any outward power; it is the .sense of guilt which constitutes the punishment, ;ind 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. Ju- nius, 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 ashamed of his grief; on which less fortitude would have done him more honour. I can conceive, indeed, a be- nevolent 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 ballot at the India- House, and make a public display, though it were only of an apparent insensibility? I know we are treading on tender ground; and Junius, I am convinced, does not wish to urge this question farther. Let the friends of the duke of Bedford observe that humble silence whiqh becomes their situation. They should recollect, that there are still more 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.* * Within a fortnight after lord Tavistock's death, the venerable Gertrude had a rout at Bedford house. The 178 JUNIUS. It is not inconsistent to suppose, that a man may be quite indifferent about one part ol 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. Ju- nius had said. There are others loho would assas- sinate. Modestus, 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 Ju- nius would choose to be condemned, I will venture to maintain, in opposition to Modestus, or to Mr. Rigby, (who is certainly not Modestus) or any of the Bloomsbury gang, that the evidence against the duke of Bedford is as strong as any presump- tive evidence can be. It depends upon a combi- nation of facts and reasoning, which require no confirmation from the anecdote of the duke of Marlborough. This anecdote was referred to, good duke (who had only sixty thousand pounds a year) ordered an inventory to be taken of his son's wearing apparel, down to his slippers, sold them all, and put the money in his pocket. The amiable mar- chioness, shocked at such brutal, unfeeling avarice, gave the value of the clothes to the marquis's servant, out of her own purse. That incomparable woman did not long survive her husband. When she died, the duch- ess of Bedford treated her as the duke had treated his only son: she ordered every grown and trinket to be sold, and pocketed the money. These are the mon- sters whom sir William Draper comes forward to de- fend. May God protect me from doing any thing that may require such defence, or to deserve such friend- ship. JUNIUS. 179 merely to show how ready a great man may be to receive a great bribe; and if Modestus could read the original, he would see, that the expression onhj not 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 horicst gentleman's learning, and wishing he had given us a little more of it. When he accidental- ly found himself so near speaking truth, it was rather unfair of him to leave out the non potuisse refelli. As it stands, the pudet hcBC opprobria may be divided equally between Mr. Rigby and the duke of Bedford. ]\Ir. Rigby, I take for granted, will assert his natural right to the modesty of the quotation, and leave all the opprobrium to his grace. PHILO JUNIUS. LETTER XXX. To the Printer of the PuhUc Advertiser, SIR, October 17, 1769. IT is not wonderful that the great cause in which this country is engaged, should have roused and engrossed the 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 in- difference about any other. When the constitu- tion is openly invaded, when the first original right of the people, from which all laws derive 180 JUNIUS. their authority, is directly attacked, inferior grievances naturally lose their force, and are suf- fered to pass by witho .t punishment or observa- tion. The present ministry are as singularly marked by their fortune, as their crimes. Instead of atoning for their former conduct, by any wise or popular measure, they have found, in the enor- mity 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 suffi- ciently mark in what manner the canvass is filled up. Yet surely it is not a less crime, nor less fa- tal 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 va- riety in his measures, we should remember that the principle is uniform. Dictated by the same spirit, the_y deserve the same attention. The following fact though of the most alarming na- ture, 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 pe- riod, 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 du- ty. They now stand without excuse. Instead JUNIUS. 181 of employing the leisure they have had, in a strict examination of the offence, and punishing the of. fenders, they seem to have considered that indul- gence 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 per- suades them to conduct him to the Tilt-yard, in St. James's Park, under some pretence of busi- ness, which it imported him to settle before he was confined. He applies to a Serjeant, not immedi- ately on duty, to assist, with some of his compani- ons, 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, re- present their right to the prisoner, and the nature of the arrest. The soldiers first conduct the ge- neral 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 "^ Major-general Gansel. t Lieutenant Dodd. I Lieutenant Garth. VOL. I. 16 182 JUNIUS. upon ihr. various rirciirn.stuncos vvhi(^h ultcndod tlii.s alrociouH |)r()Cf;(Miiii«^. Tin; jxirsoriHl injury r(!(*()ivr'(l by l.Iio olliccirH of tlio law, in tin; oxcumi- lion oftlKHr tinfy, may, porliajhs, Ixj al.<)n(!(l for by tiiuui) |)rival,(; »'.((ni|i(;uHjit.i()n. 1 consider nolliin*^ but tliu wound wbicii baa been f,nvoii to tiio law itself, to wbicb no remedy lias been a|)i)iied, no HatiHlaction made. Neitlier is it my desi^ni to dwc^ll upon tbo misconduct of tbe i>arties con(M3rn- ed, any fartber tlwui is nec(!ssary to sbow tbe be- liavii>ur of tbo ministry in its true; li^dit. i would make ev(!ry com|»Jissionji.t(; nllowanci! lor tbo iidii- luation of tbe prisoner, tbe false and (M'iminal dis. cretion of on(5 oHic illogul. litis this jL!:«'nlh»iuaii h('(Mi rjilled lo cn in any shnjio in- (jiiircd into? IVo. Another licnlcn.Mnl, not. upon duty, nor ev(>n in Ins n*,'!;in»entMls, is dnrin;!; <«non;^di to order ont the kin«^^'s i^niiird, ever which he had jir«);)(Mly no command, and eni^a'^es th(>ni in a. vio- lation of the laws ol" his country, perhaps the most ain^ndar and extravagant that (»ver was altempt- od. What punishnwMit has ho snller<>d? Lite- rally non(>. SupposinjL!^ ho should he pr<»sr the rescue; will that circiim- Htanc(», from whicdi the ministry <'an deriv<» no merit, oxcusii (u* justily their snllerin^ so lla^rant u hr(>a('h of miliUiry discipline to pass hy nn|)n- iiislK'd and unnoliciid ? Kro they awur(^ of tho (tutra^o ollenid to lium' Hov«5r<«i^n, when his own proper /ujuanl is orden^l out t<> stop, hy nuu'ii force, the ex((cution of his laws? What are W(» to conclude from so N^'andalous a. n(;jL*'lect of their duty, hut that they have other vi(!vvs, which can only he answered hy secin*in^ tho uttat^hmont of the ^niards? The minister would hardly ho so cautious of olfeniliu',*' them, if h<» ct t has been too frequently applied, you have some reason to expect that there are no services they would refuse. Here, too, we trace the partiality of your understanding. You take the sense of the army from the conduct of the guards, with the same justice with which you collect the sense of the people from the representations of the min- istry. Your marching regiments, sir, will not make the guards their example, either as soldiers or subjects. They feel, and resent, as they ought to do, that invaria- ble, undistinguishlng favor with which the guards are treated;* while those gallant troops, by whom every hazardous, every laborious service is performed, are left to perish in garrisons abroad, or pine in quarters at homfe, neglected and forgotten. If they had no great sense of the original duty they owe their country, their resentment would operate like patriotism and leave your cause to be defended by those to whom you have lavish- ed the rewards and honors of their profession. The Praetorian bands, enervated, and debauched as they were, had still strength enough to awe the Roman popul- lace; but when the distant legicns took the alarm, they inarched to Rome, and gave away the empire. On this side then, whichever way you turn your eyes, you see nothing but perplexity and distress. You may determine to support the very ministry who have reduced your affairs to this deplorable situation: you pay shelter * The number of comniissioned officers in the guards are to the marching regiments as one to eleven: the num- ber of regiments given to the guards, compared with those given to the line, is about three to one, at a moderate com- putation; consequently, the partiality in favour of the guards is as thirty-three to one. So much for the officers. The private men have fourpence a-day to subsist on, and five hundred lashes if they desert. Under this punishment they frequently expire. With these encouragements, it is supposed, they may be depended upon, whenever a certain person thinks it necessary to butcher his fellow-subjects. JUNIUS. 213 yourself under the forms of a parliament, and set the people at defiance; but be assered, sir, that such a reso- lution v/ould be as imprudent as it would be odious. If it did not immediately shake your establishment, it would rob you of your peace of mind forever. On the other, how different is the propect! How easy, how safe and honorable is the path before you! The English nation declare they are grossly injured by their representatives, and solicit your majesty to exert your lawful prerogative, and give them an opportunity of recalling a trust, which they find has been scandalous- ly abused. You are not to be told, that the power of the House of Commons is not original, but delegated to them for the welfare of the people, from whom they re- ceived it. A question of rightarises between the consti- tuent and representative body. By what authority shall it be decided? Will your majesty interfere in a question in which you have properly no immediate concern? It would be a step equally odious and unnecessary. Shall the lords be called upon to determine the rights and pri- vileges of the Commons? — They cannot do it, without a flagrant breach of the constitution. Or will you refer it to the judges? They have often told your ancestors, that the law of Parliament is above them. What party then remains, but to leave it to the people to determine for themselves? They alone are injured; and, since there is no superior power to which the cause can be re- ferred, Ihey alone ought to determine. I do not mean to perplex you with a tedious argument upon a subject already so discussed that inspiration could hardly throw a new light upon it. There are, however, two points of view in which it particularly imports your majesty to consider the late proceedings of the house of commons. By depriving a subject of his birthright they have attributed to their own vote an authority equal to an act of the whole legislature; and, though perhaps not with the same motives, have strictly followed the exam- ple of the long parliament, which firstdeclared the regal office useless, and soon after, wiih as little ceremony, dis- solved the house of lords. The same pretended power 214 JUNIUS. which robs an English subject of his birthright, may rob an English king of his crown. In another view, the res- olution of the house of comnions, apparently not su dan- gerous to your majesty, is still more alarming to your people. Not contented with divesting one man of his right, they have arbitrarily conveyed that right to anoth- er. They have set aside a return as illegal, without dar- ing to censure those officers who were particularly appri- zed of Mr. Wilkes's incapacity, not only by the declara- tion of the house, but expressly by the writ directed to them, and who nevertheless returned him as duly elect- ed. They have rejected the majority of votes, the only criterion by which our laws judge of the sense of the people; they have transferred the right of election from the collective to the representative body; and by these acts, taken separately or together, they have essentially altered the original constitution of the house of com- mons. Versed as your majesty undoubtedly is in the English history, it cannot easily escape you, how much it is your interest, as well as your duty, to prevent one of the three estates from encroaching upon the province of the other two, or assuming the authority of them all. When once they have departed from the great constitu- tional line by which all their proceedings should be di- rected, who will answer for their future moderation? Or ■what assurance will they give you, that when they have trampled upon their equals, they will submit to a superi- or? Your majesty may learn hereafter, how nearly the slave and tyrant are allied. Some of your council, more candid than the rest, ad- mit the abandoned profligacy of the present House of Commons, but oppose their dissolution, upon an opinion, I confess, not very unwarrantuble, that their successors would be equally at the disposal of the treasury. 1 can- not persuade myself that the nation will have profited so little by experience. But, if that opinion were well founded, you might then gratify our wishes at an easy rate, and appease the present clamor against your government, without offering any material injury to the favourite cause of corruption. JUNIUS. 215 You have still an honourable part to act. The afiec- tions of your subjects may still be recovered. But before you subdue their hearts, you must gain a noble victory over your own. Discard those little personal re- sentments, v.'hith have too long direcied your public conduct. Pardon th;s man the remainder of his punish- ment; and. if resentment still prevails, make it, what it should have been long since, an act, not of mercy, but of contempt. He will soon fall back into his natural sta- tion; a silent senator, and hardly supporting the weekly eloquence of a new-paper. The genile breath of peace would leave him on the surface, neglected and unremov- ed. It is only the tempest that lifts him from his place. Without consulting your minister, call together your whole council. Let it appear to the public, that you can determine and act for yourself. Come forward to your people. Lay aside the wretched formalities of a king, and speak to your subjects with the spirit of a man, and in the language of a gentleman. Tell them you have been fatally deceived The ackiiowledgment will be no disgrace, but rather an honour to your understanding. Tell them ) ou are determined to remove every cause of complaint against your government; that you will give your confidence to no man, who does not possess the con- fidence of your subjects; and leave it to themselves to determine, by their conduct at a future election, wheth- er or no it be, in reality, the general sense of the nation, that their rights have been arbitrarily invaded by the ;:)resent House of Commons, and the constitution betray- ed. They will then do justice to their representatives md to themselves. These sentiments, sir, and the style they are convey- ed in, may be offensive, perhaps, because they are new to you. Accustomed to the language of courtiers, you measure their affection by the vehemence of their expres- sions; and when they only praise you indifferently, you admire their sincerity. But this is not a time to trifle with your fortune. They deceive you, sir, who tell you that you have many friends, whose affections are found- ed upon a principle of personal attachment. The first 216 JUNIUS. foundation of friendship is not the power of conferring benefits, but the equality with which they are received, and may be returned. The fortune v/hich made you a king', forbade you to have a friend. It is a law of nature, which cannot be violated with impunity. The mistaken prince, who looks for friendship, will find a favourite, and in that favourite the ruin of h;s affairs. The people of England are loyal to the House of Hanover; not from a vain preference of one family to another, but from a conviciion, that the establishment of that family was necessary lo the support of their civil and religious liberties. This, sir, is a principle of alle- giance equally solid and rational, fit for Englishmen to adopt, and well worthy of your majesty's encourage- ment. We cannot long be deluded by nominal dis- tinctions. The name of Stuart, of itself, is only con- temptible; armed with the sovereign authority, their principles are formidable. The prince who imitates their conduct, should be warned by their example ; and, while he plumes himself upon the security of his title to the crown, should remember, that, as it was acquir- ed by one revolution, it may be lost by another. JUNIUS. END OF VOLUME I. This book IS DUE on the last date stamped below. 10M-1 1-50(2555)470 REMINGTON RAND INC. 20 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY B 000 010 031 3 M 508 A2 1834 /^ w