savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion. To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible if it were endeavoured, and would be foolish if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses, whatever makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and my friends be such frigid philosophy as may conduct us indifferent and unmoved over any ground which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery, or virtue. The man is little to be envied whose patriotism would not gain force on the plain of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona. Parallel between Pope and Dryden. From the Lives of the Poets. Pope professed to have learned his poetry from Dryden, whom, whenever an opportunity was presented, he praised through his whole life with unvaried liberality; and perhaps his character may receive some illustration, if he be compared with his master. Integrity of understanding and nicety of discernment were not allotted in a less proportion to Dryden than to Pope. The rectitude of Dryden's mind was sufficiently shewn by the dismission of his poetical prejudices, and the rejection of unnatural thoughts and rugged numbers. But Dryden never desired to apply all the judgment that he had. He wrote, and professed to write, merely for the people; and when he pleased others he contented himself. He spent no time in struggles to rouse latent powers; he never attempted to make that better which was already good, nor often to mend what he must have known to be faulty. He wrote, as he tells us, with very little consideration; when occasion or necessity called upon him, he poured out what the present moment happened to supply, and, when once it had passed the press, ejected it from his mind; for when he had no pecuniary interest, he had no further solicitude. Pope was not content to satisfy : he desired to excel, and therefore always endeavoured to do his best he did not court the candour, but dared the judgment of his reader, and expecting no indulgence from others, he shewed none to himself. He examined lines and words with minute and punctilious observation, and retouched every part with indefatigable diligence, till he had left nothing to be forgiven. For this reason he kept his pieces very long in his hands, while he considered and reconsidered them. The only poems which can be supposed to have been written with such regard to the times as might hasten their publication, were the two satires of Thirty-eight, of which Dodsley told me that they were brought to him by the author that they might be fairly copied. Almost every line,' he said, "was then written twice over. I gave him a clean transcript, which he sent some time afterwards to me for the press, with almost every line written twice over a second time.' His declaration, that his care for his works ceased at their publication, was not strictly true. His parental attention never abandoned them; what he found amiss in the first edition, he silently corrected in those that followed. He appears to have revised the Iliad, and freed it from some of its imperfections; and the Essay on Criticism received many improvements after its first appearance. It will seldom be found that he altered without adding clearness, elegance, or vigour. Pope had perhaps the judgment of Dryden, but Dryden certainly wanted the diligence of Pope. In acquired knowledge the superiority must be allowed to Dryden, whose education was more scholastic, and who, before he became an author, had been allowed more time for study, with better means of information. His mind has a larger range, and he collects his images and illustrations from a more extensive circumference 792 of science. Dryden knew more of man in his general nature, and Pope in his local manners. The notions of Dryden were formed by comprehensive speculation, and those of Pope by minute attention. There is more dignity in the knowledge of Dryden, and more certainty in that of Pope. Poetry was not the sole praise of either; for both excelled likewise in prose; but Pope did not borrow his prose from his predecessor. The style of Dryden is capricious and varied, that of Pope is cautious and uniform. Dryden obeys the motions of his own mind, Pope constrains his mind to his own rules of composi tion. Dryden is sometimes vehement and rapid, Pope is always smooth, uniform, and gentle. Dryden's page is a natural field, rising into inequalities, and diversified by the varied exuberance of abundant vegetation; Pope's is a velvet lawn, shaven by the scythe, and levelled by the roller. Of genius, that power which constitutes a poet, that quality without which judgment is cold and knowledge is inert, that energy which collects, combines, amplifies, and animates, the superiority must, with some hesita tion, be allowed to Dryden. It is not to be inferred, that of this poetical vigour Pope had only a little, because Dryden had more; for every other writer since Milton must give place to Pope; and even of Dryden it must be said, that if he has brighter paragraphs, he has not better poems. Dryden's performances were always hasty, either excited by some external occasion, or extorted by domestic necessity; he composed without consideration, and published without correction. What his mind could supply at call, or gather in one excursion, was all that he sought, and all that he gave. The dilatory caution of Pope enabled him to condense his sentiments, to multiply his images, and to accumulate all that study might produce or chance might supply. If the flights of Dryden, therefore, are higher, Pope continues longer on the wing. If of Dryden's fire the blaze is brighter, of Pope's the heat is more regular and constant. Dryden often surpasses expectation, and Pope never falls below it. Dryden is read with frequent astonishment, and Pope with perpetual delight. JUNIUS AND SIR PHILIP FRANCIS. On the 21st of January 1769 appeared the first of a series of political letters, bearing the signature of JUNIUS, which have since taken their place among the standard works of the English language. Great excitement prevailed in the nation at the time. The contest with the American colonies, the imposition of new taxes, the difficulty of forming a steady and permanent administration, and the great ability and eloquence of the opposi tion, had tended to spread a feeling of dissatisfac tion throughout the country. The publication of the North Briton, a periodical edited by John Wilkes, and conducted with reckless violence and asperity, added fuel to the flame, and the prime-minister, Lord North, said justly, that 'the press overflowed the land with its black gall, and poisoned the minds of the people.' The government was by no means equal to the emergency, and indeed it would have required a cabinet of the highest powers and most energetic wisdom to have triumphed over the opposition of men The most popular newspaper of that day was the like Chatham and Burke, and writers like Junius. Public Advertiser, published by Woodfall, a man of education and respectability. To this journal the writer known as Junius had contributed under various signatures for about two years. The letters by which he is now distinguished were more carefully elaborated, and more highly polished, than any of his previous communications. They clerkship at the War-office from resentment at the attacked all the public characters of the day con- appointment of Mr Chamier. It was by Lord nected with the government, they retailed much Holland that he was first introduced into the private scandal and personal history, and did public service. Now, here are five marks, all of not spare even royalty itself. The compression, which ought to be found in Junius. They are all point, and brilliancy of their language, their five found in Francis. We do not believe that unrivalled sarcasm, boldness, and tremendous more than two of them can be found in any other invective, at once arrested the attention of the person whatever. If this argument does not settle public. Every effort that could be devised by the question, there is an end of all reasoning on the government, or prompted by private indigna- circumstantial evidence.' Attention has been tion, was made to discover their author, but in drawn to another individual, one of ten or more vain. It is not in the nature of things,' he writes persons suspected at the time of publication. to his publisher, 'that you or anybody else should This is Lord George Sackville, latterly Viscount know me, unless I make myself known: all arts Sackville, an able but unpopular soldier, cashiered or inquiries or rewards would be ineffectual.' from the army in consequence of neglect of duty In another place he remarks, 'I am the sole at the battle of Minden, but who afterwards depositary of my secret, and it shall die with me.' regained the favour of the government, and acted The event has verified the prediction: he had as secretary at war throughout the whole period drawn around himself so impenetrable a veil of of the American contest. A work by Mr Coventry secrecy, that all the efforts of inquirers, political in 1825, and a volume by Mr Jaques in 1842, and literary, failed in dispelling the original dark-have been devoted to an endeavour to fix the ness. The letters were published at intervals authorship of Junius upon Lord George. In 1853 from 1769 to 1772, when they were collected by the Grenville Papers were published from the Woodfall, and revised by their author-who was originals at Stowe, and an attempt was made by equally unknown to his publisher-and printed in their editor, Mr W. J. Smith, to prove that Lord two volumes. They have since gone through in- Temple was Junius, Lady Temple acting as the numerable editions; but the best is that published amanuensis. Junius had, without disclosing himself, in 1812 by Woodfall's son, which includes the written three letters to Lord Temple on political letters by the same writer under other signatures- topics; but these only prove that the unknown probably along with others not written by him, looked for the patronage of the Temples, should for there is a want of direct evidence with his that family gain an ascendency in the government. private notes to his publisher, and fac-similes of It is probable that more than one person was his handwriting. connected with the letters, and Temple may have been one of these supplying hints; but the evidence given to prove that he was really Junius must be pronounced inconclusive. The claim of Francis still remains the best. In 1871 it was further strengthened by a series of fac-similes by Mr Charles Chabot, expert, with preface and collateral evidence by the Hon. E. Twistleton. The principles of Junius are moderate, compared with his personalities. Some sound constitutional maxims are conveyed in his letters, but his style has undoubtedly been his passport to fame. His illustrations and metaphors are also sometimes uncommonly felicitous. The personal malevolence of his attacks it is impossible to justify. When the controversy as to the authorship of these memorable philippics had almost died away, a book appeared in 1816, bearing the title of Junius identified with a Celebrated Living Character The living character was Sir Philip Francis, and certainly a mass of strong circumstantial evidence has been presented in his favour. The external evidence,' says Macaulay, 'is, we think, such as would support a verdict in a civil, nay, in a criminal proceeding. The handwriting of Junius is the very peculiar handwriting of Francis, slightly disguised. As to the position, pursuits, and connections of Junius, the following are the most important facts which can be considered as clearly proved: First, that he was acquainted with the technical forms of the secretary of state's office; secondly, that he was intimately acquainted with the business of the War-office; thirdly, that he, during the year 1770, attended debates in the House of Lords, and took notes of speeches, particularly of the speeches of Lord Chatham; fourthly, that he bitterly resented the appointment of Mr Chamier to the place of deputysecretary at war; fifthly, that he was bound by some strong tie to the first Lord Holland. Now, Francis passed some years in the secretary of state's office. He was subsequently chief-clerk of the War-office. He repeatedly mentioned that he had himself, in 1770, heard speeches of Lord Chatham; and some of these speeches were actually printed from his notes. He resigned his Philip Francis was the son of the Rev. Philip Francis, translator of Horace. He was born in Dublin in 1740, and at the early age of sixteen was placed by Lord Holland in the secretary of state's office. By the patronage of Pitt (Lord Chatham), he was made secretary to General Bligh in 1758, and was present at the capture of Cherbourg; in 1760 he accompanied Lord Kinnoul as secretary on his embassy to Lisbon; and in 1763 he was appointed to a considerable situation in the War-office, which he held till 1772. Next year he was made a member of the council appointed for the government of Bengal, from whence he returned in 1781, after being perpetually at war with the governor-general, Warren Hastings, and being wounded by him in a duel. He afterwards sat in parliament, supporting Whig principles, and was one of the 'Friends of the People' in association with Fox, Tierney, and Grey. He died in 1818. It must be acknowledged that the speeches and letters of Sir Philip evince much of the talent found in Junius, though they are less rhetorical in style; while the history and dispositions of the man-his strong resentments, his arrogance, his interest in the public questions of the day, evinced by his numerous pamphlets, even in advanced age, and the whole complexion of his party and political sentiments, are what we should expect of Woodfall's celebrated correspondent. High and commanding qualities he undoubtedly possessed; nor was he without 793 genuine patriotic feelings, and a desire to labour earnestly for the public weal. His error lay in mistaking his private enmities for public virtue, and nursing his resentments till they attained a dark and unsocial malignity. His temper was irritable and gloomy, and often led him to form mistaken and uncharitable estimates of men and measures. In the same strain of elaborate and refined sarcasm the Duke of Bedford is addressed: reputation. There are some hereditary strokes of character by which a family may be as clearly distinguished as by the blackest features of the human face. Charles I. lived and died a hypocrite; Charles II. 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 Of the literary excellences of Junius, his sarcasm, Grace. Sullen and severe without religion, proflicompressed energy, and brilliant illustration, a gate without gaiety, you live like Charles II. withfew specimens may be quoted. His finest meta-out being an amiable companion; and for aught I phor-as just in sentiment as beautiful in expres- know, may die as his father did, without the sion-is contained in the conclusion to the forty- reputation of a martyr.' second letter: 'The ministry, it seems, are labouring to draw a line of distinction between the honour of the crown and the rights of the people. This new idea has yet only been started in discourse; for, in effect, both objects have been equally sacrificed. I neither understand the disMy lord, you are so little accustomed to receive any tinction, nor what use the ministry propose to marks of respect or esteem from the public, that if in make of it. The king's honour is that of his the following lines a compliment or expression of people. Their real honour and real interest are applause should escape me, I fear you would consider I am not contending for a vain punc- it as a mockery of your established character, and tilio. A clear unblemished character comprehends perhaps an insult to your understanding. You have not only the integrity that will not offer, but the nice feelings, my lord, if we may judge from your spirit that will not submit to an injury; and resentments. Cautious, therefore, of giving offence whether it belongs to an individual or to a com- where you have so little deserved it, I shall leave the munity, it is the foundation of peace, of independ-illustration of your virtues to other hands. Your friends have a privilege to play upon the easiness of your ence, and of safety. Private credit is wealth; public honour is security. The feather that adorns temper, or probably they are better acquainted with the royal bird supports his flight. Strip him of by stealth. The rest is upon record. You have still You have done good your good qualities than I am. his plumage, and you fix him to the earth.' left ample room for speculation when panegyric is exhausted... the same. Thus also he remarks: In the shipwreck of the state, trifles float and are preserved; while everything solid and valuable sinks to the bottom, and is lost for ever.' Of the supposed enmity of George III. to Wilkes, and the injudicious prosecution of that demagogue, Junius happily remarks: 'He said more than moderate men would justify, but not enough to entitle him to the honour of your majesty's personal resentment. The rays of royal indignation, collected upon him, served only to illuminate, and could not consume. Animated by the favour of the people on the one side, and heated by persecution on the other, his views and sentiments changed with his situation. Hardly serious at first, he is now an enthusiast. The coldest bodies warm with opposition, the hardest sparkle in collision. There is a holy mistaken zeal in politics as well as religion. By persuading others, we convince ourselves. The passions are engaged, and create a maternal affection in the mind, which forces us to love the cause for which we suffer.' The letter to the king is the most dignified of the letters of Junius; those to the Dukes of Grafton and Bedford the most severe. The Duke of Grafton was descended from Charles II. and this afforded the satirist scope for invective: 'The character of the reputed ancestors of some men has made it possible for their descendants to be vicious in the extreme, without being degenerate. Those of your Grace, for instance, left no distressing examples of virtue, even to their legitimate posterity; and you may look back with pleasure to an illustrious pedigree, in which heraldry has not left a single good quality upon record to insult or upbraid you. You have better proofs of your descent, my lord, than the register of a marriage, or any troublesome inheritance of On the Duke of Bedford. Let us consider you, then, as arrived at the summit of worldly greatness; let us suppose that all your plans of avarice and ambition are accomplished, and your most sanguine wishes gratified in the fear as well as the hatred of the people. Can age itself forget that you are now in the last act of life? Can gray hairs make folly venerable? and is there no period to be reserved for it not be recorded of you that the latest moments of your meditation and retirement? For shame, my lord! Let life were dedicated to the same unworthy pursuits, the same busy agitations, in which your youth and manhood were exhausted. Consider that, though you cannot disgrace your former life, you are violating the character of age, and exposing the impotent imbecility, after you have lost the vigour, of the passions. Your friends will ask, perhaps : Whither shall this unhappy old man retire? Can he remain in the metropolis, where his life has been so often threatened, and his palace so often attacked? If he returns to Woburn, scorn and mockery await him : he must create a solitude round his estate, if he would avoid the face of reproach and derision. At Plymouth, his destruction would be more than probable; at Exeter, inevitable. No honest Englishmen will ever forget his attachment, nor any honest Scotchman forgive his treachery, to Lord Bute. At every town he enters, he must change his liveries and name. Whichever way he flies, the hue and cry of the country pursues him. In another kingdom, indeed, the blessings of his administration have been more sensibly felt, his virtues better understood; or, at worst, they will not for him alone forget their hospitality. As well might Verres have returned to Sicily. You have twice escaped, my of a whole people plundered, insulted, and oppressed, as beware of a third experiment. The indignation they have been, will not always be disappointed. lord; It is in vain, therefore, to shift the scene; you can no more fly from your enemies than from yourself. Persecuted abroad, you look into your own heart for consolation, and find nothing but reproaches and despair. But, my lord, you may quit the field of business, though not the field of danger; and though you cannot be safe, you may cease to be ridiculous. I fear you have listened too long to the advice of those pernicious friends with whose interests you have sordidly united your own, and for whom you have sacrificed everything 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 character. Even now they tell you that life is no more than a dramatic scene, in which the hero should preserve his consistency to the last; and that, as you lived without virtue, you should die without repentance. These are certainly brilliant pieces of composition. The tone and spirit in which they are conceived are harsh and reprehensible-in some parts almost fiendish-but they are the emanations of a powerful and cultivated mind, that, under better moral discipline, might have done lasting honour to literature and virtue. The acknowledged productions of Sir Philip Francis have equal animation, but less studied brevity and force of style. The soaring ardour of youth had flown; his hopes were crushed; he was not writing under the mask of a fearless and impenetrable secrecy. Yet in a letter to Earl Grey on the subject of the blockade of Norway, we find such vigorous sentences as the following: State of England in 1812. Though a nation may be bought and sold, deceived or betrayed, oppressed or beggared, and in every other sense undone, all is not lost, as long as a sense of national honour survives the general ruin. Even an individual cannot be crushed by events or overwhelmed by adversity, if, in the wreck and ruin of his fortune, the character of the man remains unblemished. That force is elastic, and, with the help of resolution, will raise him again out of any depth of calamity. But if the injured sufferer, whether it be a great or a little community, a number of individuals or a single person, be content to submit in silence, and to endure without resentmentif no complaints shall be uttered, no murmur shall be heard, deploratum est-there must be something celestial in the spirit that rises from that descent. Francis thus writes in a letter on public affairs, addressed to Lord Holland, and the similarity in manner and sentiment is striking. The style is not unworthy of Junius: My mind sickens and revolts at the scenes of public depravity, of personal baseness, and of ruinous folly, little less than universal, which have passed before us, not in dramatic representation, but in real action, since the year 1792, in the government of this once flourishing as well as glorious kingdom. In that period, a deadly revolution has taken place in the moral character of the nation, and even in the instinct of the gregarious multitude. Passion of any kind, if it existed, might excite action. the country is lost in apathy and indifferenceWith still many generous exceptions, the body of sometimes strutting on stilts for the most part grovelling on its belly-no life-blood in the heart and instead of reason or reflection, a caput mortuum for a head-piece; of all revolutions this one is the worst, because it makes any other impossible.' be taken the following: Characters of Fox and Pitt. They know nothing of Mr Fox who think that he was what is commonly called well educated. I know that it was directly or very nearly the reverse. His mind educated itself, not by early study or instruction, but by active listening and rapid apprehension. He said so in the House of Commons when he and Mr Burke parted. His powerful understanding grew like a forest oak, not by cultivation, but by neglect. Mr Pitt was a plant of an inferior order, though marvellous in decoration of a rich foliage, and blossoms and flowers its kind—a smooth bark, with the deciduous pomp and which drop off of themselves, and leave the tree naked at last to be judged by its fruits. He, indeed, as I suspect, had been educated more than enough, until there was nothing natural and spontaneous left in him. He was too polished and accurate in the minor embellishments of his art to be a great artist in anything. He could have painted the boat, and the fish, and the broken nets, but not the two fishermen. He knew his audience, and, with or without eloquence, how to summon the generous passions to his applause. The human eye soon grows In March 1798, I had your voluntary and entire concurrence in the following, as well as many other aban-weary of an unbounded plain, and sooner, I believe, than of any limited portion of space, whatever its dimendoned propositions-when we drank pure wine together sions may be. There is a calm delight, a dolcé riposo, -when you were young, and I was not superannuatedwhen we left the cold infusions of prudence to fine ladies and gentle politicians-when true wisdom was not degraded by the name of moderation-when we cared but little by what majorities the nation was betrayed, or how many felons were acquitted by their peers-and when we were not afraid of being intoxicated by the elevation of a spirit too highly rectified. In England and Scotland, the general disposition of the people may be fairly judged of by the means which are said to be necessary to counteract it-an immense standing army, barracks in every part of the country, the bill of rights suspended, and, in effect, a military despotism. In the last of the private letters of Junius to Woodfall-the last, indeed, of his appearances in that character-he says, with his characteristic ardour and impatience, I feel for the honour of this country, when I see that there are not ten men in it who will unite and stand together upon any one question. But it is all alike, vile and contemptible.' This was written in January 1773. Forty-three years afterwards, in 1816, Sir Philip * The character of Francis is seen in the following admirable observation, which is at once acute and profound: With a callous heart there can be no genius in the imagination or wisdom in the mind; and therefore the prayer with equal truth and sublimity says: "Incline our hearts unto wisdom." Resolute thoughts find words for themselves, and make their own vehicle. Impression and expression are relative ideas. He who feels deeply will express strongly. The language of slight sensations is naturally feeble and superficial.'-Reflections on the abundance of Paper, 1810. Francis excelled in pointed and pithy expression. After by exclaiming, after he had pronounced an animated eulogy on his return to parliament in 1784, he gave great offence to Mr Pitt, Lord Chatham: But he is dead, and has left nothing in this world that resembles him!' The writer of a memoir of Francis, in the Annual Obituary (1820), states that one of his maxims was, 'That the views of every one should be directed towards a solid, however moderate independence, without which no man can be happy, or even honest.' There is a remarkable coincidence-too close to be accidental—in a private letter by Junius to his publisher, Woodfall, dated March 5, 1772: As for myself, be assured that I am far above all pecuniary views, and no other person I think has any claim to share with you. Make the most of it, therefore, and let all your views in life be directed to a solid, however moderate independence. Without it, no man can be happy, nor even honest.' It is obvious, however, that Francis may have his denials of the authorship, he was not unwilling to bear the copied from Junius, and it has been surmised that, notwithstanding imputation. 795 in viewing the smooth-shaven verdure of a bowling-with the novelty of a young prince, whose countenance green as long as it is near. You must learn from repetition that those properties are inseparable from the idea of a flat surface, and that flat and tiresome are synonymous. The works of nature, which command admiration at once, and never lose it, are compounded of grand inequalities. From Junius's Letter to the King. To the Printer of the Public Advertiser.-December 19, 1769. SIR-When the complaints of a brave and powerful people are observed to increase in proportion to the wrongs they have suffered; when, instead of sinking into submission, they are roused to resistance, the time will soon arrive at which every inferior consideration must yield to the security of the sovereign, and to the general safety of the state. There is a moment of difficulty and danger, at which flattery and falsehood can no longer deceive, and simplicity itself can no longer be misled. Let us suppose it arrived. Let us suppose a gracious, well-intentioned prince made sensible at last of the great duty he owes to his people, and of his own disgraceful situation; that he looks round him for assistance, and asks for no advice but how to gratify the wishes and secure the happiness of his subjects. these circumstances, it may be matter of curious speculation to consider, if an honest man were permitted to approach a king, in what terms he would address himself to his sovereign. Let it be imagined, no matter how improbable, that the first prejudice against his character is removed; that the ceremonious difficulties of an audience are surmounted; that he feels himself animated by the purest and most honourable affection to his king and country; and that the great person whom he addresses has spirit enough to bid him speak freely, and understanding enough to listen to him with attention. Unacquainted with the vain impertinence of forms, he would deliver his sentiments with dignity and firmness, but not without respect : In Sir-It is the misfortune of your life, and originally the cause of every reproach and distress which has attended your government, that you should never have been acquainted with the language of truth till you heard it in the complaints of your people. It is not, however, too late to correct the error of your education. We are still inclined to make an indulgent allowance for the pernicious lessons you received in your youth, and to form the most sanguine hopes from the natural benevolence of your disposition. We are far from thinking you capable of a direct deliberate purpose to invade those original rights of your subjects on which all their civil and political liberties depend. Had it been possible for us to entertain a suspicion so dishonourable to your character, we should long since have adopted a style of remonstrance very distant from the humility of complaint. The doctrine inculcated by our laws, 'that the king can do no wrong,' is admitted without reluctance. We separate the amiable good-natured prince from the folly and treachery of his servants, and the private virtues of the man from the vices of his government. Were it not for this just distinction, I know not whether your majesty's condition, or that of the English nation, would deserve most to be lamented. I would prepare your mind for a favourable reception of truth, by removing every painful offensive idea of personal reproach. Your subjects, sir, wish for nothing but that, as they are reasonable and affectionate enough to separate your person from your government, so you, in your turn, would distinguish between the conduct which becomes the permanent dignity of a king, and that which serves only to promote the temporary interest and miserable ambition of a minister. You ascended the throne with a declared-and, I doubt not, a sincere-resolution of giving universal satisfaction to your subjects. You found them pleased 796 promised even more than his words, and loyal to you not only from principle but passion. It was not a cold profession of allegiance to the first magistrate, but a partial, animated attachment to a favourite prince, the native of their country. They did not wait to examine your conduct, nor to be determined by experience, but gave you a generous credit for the future blessings of your reign, and paid you in advance the dearest tribute of their affections. Such, sir, was once the disposition of a people who now surround your throne with reproaches and complaints. Banish from your mind those unworthy opinions with Do justice to yourself. which some interested persons have laboured to possess you. Distrust the men who tell you that the English are naturally light and inconstant; that they complain without a cause. Withdraw your confidence equally from all parties; from ministers, favourites, and relations; and let there be one moment in your life in which you have consulted your own understanding. When you affectedly renounced the name of Englishman,* believe me, sir, you were persuaded to pay a very ill-judged compliment to one part of your subjects at the expense of another. While the natives of Scotland are not in actual rebellion, they are undoubtedly entitled to protection; nor do I mean to condemn the policy of tion for the house of Hanover. giving some encouragement to the novelty of their affeceverything from their new-born zeal, and from the future I am ready to hope for steadiness of their allegiance. But hitherto they have no claim to your favour. To honour them with a determined predilection and confidence, in exclusion of your English subjects-who placed your family, and, in spite of treachery and rebellion, have supported it, upon the throne-is a mistake too gross for even the unsuspecting generosity of youth. In this error we see a capital violation of the most obvious rules of policy and prudence. We trace it, however, to an original bias in your education, and are ready to allow for your inexperience. To the same early influence we attribute it that you have descended to take a share, not only in the narrow views and interests of particular persons, but in the fatal malignity of their passions. At your accession to the throne the whole system of government was altered; not from wisdom or deliberation, but because it had been adopted by your predecessor. A little personal motive of pique and resentment was sufficient to remove the ablest servants of the crown; but it is not in this country, sir, that such men can be dishonoured by the frowns of a king. They were dismissed, but could not be disgraced. whole council. Let it appear to the public that you can Without consulting your minister, call together your 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 acknowledgment will be no disgrace, but rather an honour, to your understanding, Tell them you are determined to remove every cause of complaint against your government; that you will give your confidence to no man that does not possess the confidence of your subjects; and leave it to themselves to determine, by their conduct at a future election, whether or not it be in reality the general sense of the nation, that their rights have been arbitrarily invaded by the present House of Commons, and the constitution betrayed. They will then do justice to their representa tives and to themselves. in, may be offensive, perhaps, because they are new to These sentiments, sir, and the style they are conveyed Accustomed to the language of courtiers, you measure their affections by the vehemence of their you. in the name of Briton.' *The king, in his first speech from the throne, said he 'gloried |