is above it; he is brave. Do you fancy that your own base arts have infected our whole ifland? But your own reflections, your own confcience, muft and will, if you have any fpark of humanity remaining, give him moft ample vengeance. Not all the power of words with which you are so graced, will ever wash out, or even palliate, this foul blot in your character. I have not time at prefent to diffect your letter fo minutely as I could wish; but I will be bold enough to say, that it is (as to reafon and argument) the most extraordinary piece of florid impotence that was ever impofed upon the eyes and ears of the too credulous and deluded mob. It accufes the Duke of Bedford of high treafon. Upon what foundation? You tell us, "that the Duke's pecuniary character makes it "more than probable, that he could not have made "fuch facrifices at the peace, without fome private "compenfations; 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 neceffary to establish the truth of your first propofition, before you prefume to draw inferences from it. Firft prove the avarice, before you mak the rafh, hafty, and moft wicked conclufion. This father, Junius, whom you call avaricious, allowed that fon eight thousand pounds ayear. Upon his most unfortunate death, which your ufual good-nature took care to remind him of, he greatly increased the jointure of the afflicted lady his widow. Is this avarice? Is this doing good by Stealth? It is upon record. If exact order, method, and true ceconomy, as a master of a family; if fplendor and juft magnificence, without wild wafte and thoughtless extravagance, may conftitute the character of an avaricious man, the Duke is guilty. But for a moment let us admit that an ambassador may love money money too much; what proof do you give that he has taken any to betray his country? Is it hearfay; or the evidence of letters, or ocular; or the evidence of those concerned in this black affair? Produce your authorities to the publick. It is an impudent kind of forcery, to attempt to blind us with the fmoke, without convincing us that the fire has exifted. You firft brand him with a vice that he is free from, to render him odious and fufpected. Sufpicion is the foul weapon with which you make all your chief attacks; with that you ftab. But fhall one of the firft fubjects of the realm be ruined in his fame; fhall even his life be in constant danger, from a charge built upon fuch fandy foundations? Muft his house be befieged by lawless ruffians, his journey impeded, and even the afylum of an altar be infecure from affertions so base and false? Potent as he is, the Duke is amenable to juftice: if guilty, punishable. The parliament is the high and folemn tribunal for matters of fuch great moment. To that be they fubmitted. But I hope alfo that fome notice will be taken of, and fome punishment inflicted upon, falfe accufers; efpecially upon fuch, Junius, who are wilfully falfe. 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. Ariftocracy is as fatal as democracy. Our conftitution admits of neither. It loves a King, Lords, and Commons, really chofen by the unbought fuffrages of a free people. But if corruption only fhifts hands; if the wealthy commoner gives the bribe, inftead of the potent peer, is the ftate better ferved by this exchange? Is the real emancipation of the borough effected, becaufe new parchment bonds may poffibly fuperfede the old? To fay the truth, wherever fuch practices prevail, they are equally criminal to, and deftructive of our freedom. The The rest of your declamation is scarce worth confidering, excepting for the elegance of the language. Like Hamlet 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 caricatura, and tell us of the refemblance; but multum abludit imago. All your long tedious accounts of the minifterial quarrels, and the intrigues of the cabinet, are reducible to a few fhort lines; and to convince you, Sir, that I do not mean to flatter any minifter, either paft or prefent, these are my thoughts: They seem to have acted like lovers, or children; have *pouted, quarrelled, cried, kiffed, and been friends again, as the objects of defire, the minifterial rattles, have been put into their hands. But fuch proceedings are very unworthy of the gravity and dignity of a great nation. We do not want men of abilities; but we have wanted steadinefs; we want unanimity: your letters, Junius, 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 moderation, pardon and oblivion, will disappoint the efforts of all the feditious in the land, and extinguish their wide spreading fires. I have lived with this fentiment ;-with this I fhall die. WILLIAM DRAPER. LETTER XXVII. TO THE FRINTER OF THE PUBLICK ADVER TISER. Oct. 13. 1769. SIR, F Sir William Draper's bed be a bed of torture, he has made it for himself. I shall never interrupt his repofe. Having changed the subject, there are • Sir William gives us a pleasant account of men, who, in his ●pinion at least, are the best qualified to govern an empire. are parts of his laft letter not undeferving of a reply. Leaving his private character and conduct out of the question, I fhall confider him merely in the capacity of an author, whose labours certainly do no difcredit to a newfpaper. We fay, in common difcourfe, that a man may be his own enemy; and the frequency of the fact makes the expreffion intelligible. But that a man fhould be the bittereft enemy of his friends, implies a contradiction of a peculiar nature. There is fomething in it, which cannot be conceived without a confufion of ideas, nor expreffed without a folecifm in language. Sir William Draper is ftill that fatal friend Lord Granby found him. Yet I am ready to do juftice to his generofity; if indeed it be not fomething more than generous, to be the voluntary advocate of men who think themselves injured by his affiftance, and to confider 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 thofe of the mind. He ought to have known, though perhaps it might not be his intereft to confefs, that no outward tyranny can reach the mind. If confcience plays the tyrant, it would be greatly for the benefit of the world that the were more arbitrary, and far less placable, than fome men find her. But it feems I have outraged the feelings of a father's heart. Am I indeed fo injudicious? Does Sir William Draper think I would have hazarded my credit with a generous nation, by fo grofs a violation of the laws of humanity? Does he think I am fo little acquainted with the firft and nobleft characteristick of Englishmen? Or how will he reconcile fuch folly with an understanding so full of artifice as mine? Had he been a father, he would have been but little offended with the fe verity of the reproach, for his mind would have been filled with the juftice of it. He would have feen that I did not infult the feelings of a father, but the father who felt nothing. He would have trufted to the evidence of his own paternal heart; and boldly denied the poffibility of the fact, inftead of defending it. Againft whom then will his honeft indignation be directed, when I affure him, that this whole town beheld the Duke of Bedford's conduct, upon the death of his fon, with horror and aftonishment. Sir William Dra per does himself but little honour in oppofing the general fenfe of his country. The people are feldom wrong in their opinions, in their fentiments they are never mistaken. There may be a vanity perhaps in a fingular way of thinking;but when a man profeffes a want of thofe feelings which do honour to the multitude, he hazards fomething infinitely more important than the chaxacter of his understanding. After all, as Sir William may poffibly be in earneft in his anxiety for the Duke of Bedford, I fhould be glad to relieve him from it. He may reft affured this worthy nobleman laughs, with equal indifference, at my reproaches, and Sir William's diftrefs about him. But here let it ftop. Even the Duke of Bedford, infenfible as he is, will confult the tranquillity of his life, in not provoking the moderation of my temper. If, from the profoundest contempt, I should ever rife into anger, he should foon find, that all I have already faid of him was lenity and compaffion: Out of a long catalogue, Sir William Draper has confined himself to the refutation of two charges only. The reft he had not time to difcufs; and indeed it would have been a laborious undertaking. To draw up a defence of fuch a feries of enormities, would have required a life at leaft as long as that which has been uni formly |