Was it economy, my Lord? or did the coy resistance you have constantly met with in the British senate, make you despair of corrupting the divan? Your friends, indeed, have the first claim upon your bounty: but if 500l. a year can be spared in pension to Sir John Moore, it would not have disgraced you to have allowed something to the secret service of the public.

You will say, perhaps, that the situation of affairs at home, demanded and engrossed the whole of your attention. Here, I confess, you have been active. An amiable, accomplished prince, ascends the throne under the happiest of all auspices, the acclamations and united affections of his subjects. The first measures of his reign, and even the odium of a favourite, were not able to shake their attachment. Your services, my Lord, have been more successful. Since you were permitted to take the lead, we have seen the natural effects of a system of government, at once both odious and contemptible. We have seen the laws sometimes scandalously relaxed, sometimes violently stretched beyond their tone. We have seen the sacred 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 influence of government to procure addresses to satisfy the

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 personal character, I will not, for the honour of human nature, suppose that you can wish to have it remembered. The condition of the present times is desperate indeed; but there is a debt due to those who come after us; and it is the historian's office to punish, though he cannot correct. I do not give you to posterity as a pattern to imitate, but as an example to deter; and as your conduct comprehends every thing that a wise or honest minister should avoid, I mean to make you a negative instruction to your successors for ever.

JUNIUS.

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.

LETTER XIII.

To the Printer of the Public Advertiser.

SIR,

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, I shall leave it to the critics. The truth of his facts is of more importance to the public. They are of such a nature that I think a 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 openly invaded, and the very name of an election made ridiculous, by the arbitrary appointment of Mr. Luttrell?

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

* Miss Parsons had at this time surpassed the prime both of her youth and beauty.

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

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

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

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

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

8. After deserting Lord Chatham's principles, and sacrificing his friendship, is he not now closely united with a set of men, who, though they have occasionally joined with all parties, have, in every different situation, and at all times, 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

Grafton has not successively adopted and abandoned?

11. Is there not a singular mark of shame set upon this man, who has so little delicacy and feeling, as to submit to the opprobrium of marrying a near relation of one who had debauched his wife? in the name of decency, how are these amiable cousins to meet at their uncle's table? It will be a scene in 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 subjects 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 general reproaches. He may want eloquence to amuse or persuade; but, speaking truth, he must always convince.

PHILO JUNIUS.

H