aftonishment and horror; where, Sir, where were the feelings of your own heart, when you could upbraid a moft affectionate father with the lofs of his only and most amiable fon? Read over again thofe cruel lines of yours, and let them wring your very foul? Cannot political questions be difcuffed without defcending to the most odious perfonalities Muft you go wantonly out of your way to torment declining age, because the Duke of Bedford may have quarrelled with those whofe caufe and politics you efpoufe? For fhame! for fhame! As you have spoke daggers to him, you may juftly dread the use of them against your own breaft, did a want of courage, or of noble fentiments, ftimulate him to fuch, 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 confcience, must and will, if you have any spark of humanity remaining, give him moft ample vengeance. Not all the power of words with which you are fo graced, will ever wash out, or even palliate this foul blot in your character. I have not time at present to diffect your letter fo minutely as I could wish, but I will be bold enough to fay, 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 credu lous lous 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, be"yond all the legal proofs of a court of justice." My academical education, Sir, bids me tell you that it is neceffary to eftablish the truth of your first propofition, before you prefume to draw inferences from it. Firft prove the avarice before you make the rash, hasty, and most wicked conclufion. This father, Junius, whom you call avaricious, allowed that fon eight thousand pounds a year. Upon his moft 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 economy as a mafter of a family; if fplendor and juft magnificence, without wild waste 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 too much; what proof do you give that he has taken any to betray his country? Is it hearsay; K hearfay; or the evidence of letters, or occular; or the evidence of thofe concerned in this black affair? Produce your authorities to the public. It is a most impudent kind of forcery to attempt to blind us with the fmoke, without convincing us that the fire has existed. You firft brand him you with a vice that he is free from, to render him really 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, because new parchment bonds may poffibly fupercede the old? To fay the truth, where-t ever fuch practices prevail, they are equally criminal to and deftructive of our freedom. The rest of your declamation is fcarce 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 resemblance; 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 feem 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 abi of abilities; but we have wanted fteadinefs; 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 seditious in the land, and extinguish their wide fpreading fires. I have lived with this fentiment; with this I fhall die. Clifton, O. 2. 1769. I WILLIAM DRAPER. LETTER SIR, XXV. October 13, 1769. F Sir William Draper's bed be a bed of tortures he has made it for himself. I fhall never interrupt his repofe. Having changed the fubject, there are parts of his laft letter not undeserving a reply. Leaving his private character and conduct out of the queftion, I fhall confider him merely in the capacity of an author, whofe labours certainly do no difcredit to a news-paper. 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 * Sir William Draper's propofal for that effect, vide Letter IV. page 27. |