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writer, has gone so far as to turn one of the most friends of any other great man. If he is generous at amiable men of the age into a stupid, unfeeling, and the public expense, as Junius invidiously calls it, senseless being; possessed, indeed, of a personal the public is at no more expense for his lordship's courage, but void of those essential qualities which friends, than it would be if any other set of men posdistinguish the commander from the common soldier. sessed those offices. The charge is ridiculous. A very long, uninterrupted, impartial, (I will add, The last charge against lord Granby is of a most a most disinterested) friendship with lord Granby, serious and alarming nature indeed. Junius asserts, gives me the right to affirm, that all Junius's asser- that the army is mouldering away, for want of the tions are false and scandalous. Lord Granby's cour-direction of a man of common abilities and spirit. age, though of the brightest and most ardent kind, is The present condition of the army gives the directest among the lowest of his numerous good qualities: he lie to his assertions. It was never upon a more rewas formed to excel in war, by nature's liberality to spectable footing with regard to discipline and all the his mind as well as person. Educated and instructed essentials that can form good soldiers. Lord Ligonier by his most noble father, and a most spirited as well delivered a firm and noble palladium of our safeties as excellent scholar, the present bishop of Bangor, he into lord Granby's hands, who has kept it in the same was trained to the nicest sense of honor, and to the good order in which he received it. The strictest truest and noblest sort of pride, that of never doing care has been taken to fill up the vacant commissions or suffering a mean action. A sincere love and at- with such gentlemen as have the glory of their ancestachment to his king and country, and to their glory, tors to support, as well as their own; and are doubly first impelled him to the field, where he never gained bound to the cause of their king and country, from aught but honor. He impaired, through his bounty, motives of private property, as well as public spirit. his own fortune; for his bounty, which this writer the adjutant-general, who has the immediate care of would in vain depreciate, is founded upon the noblest the troops after lord Granby, is an officer that would of the human affections; it flows from a heart melt- do great honor to any service in Europe, for his coring to goodness; from the most refined humanity. rect arrangements, good sense and discernment upon Can a man, who is described as unfeeling and void all occasions, and for a punctuality and precision of reflection, be constantly employed in seeking which give the most entire satisfaction to all who proper objects, on whom to exercise those glorious are obliged to consult him. The reviewing generals, virtues of compassion and generosity? The dis- who inspect the army twice a year, have been selected tressed officer, the soldier, the widow, the orphan, with the greatest care, and have answered the imporand a long list besides, know that vanity has no share tant trust reposed in them in the most laudable manin his frequent donations; he gives, because he feels ner. Their reports of the condition of the army are their distresses. Nor has he ever been rapacious with much more to be credited than those of Junius whom one hand, to be bountiful with the other. Yet this I do advise to atone for his shameful aspersions, by uncandid Junius would insinuate, that the dignity asking pardon of lord Granby and the whole kingof the commander-in-chief is depraved into the base dom, whom he has offended by his abominable scanoffice of a commission-broker; that is, lord Granby dals. In short, to turn Junius's own battery against bargains for the sale of commissions; for it must him, I must assert in his own words, "that he has have this meaning, if it has any at all. But where given strong assertions without proof, declamation is the man living who can justly charge his lordship without argument, and violent censures without digwith such mean practices? Why does not Junius nity or moderation." produce 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,

WILLIAM DRAPER.

LETTER III.

TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATH. SIR, February 7, 1769. Your defense of lord Granby does honor to the goodness of your heart. You feel as you ought to do, for the reputation of your friend, and you express yourself in the warmest language of your passions. In any other cause, I doubt not you would have cautiously weighed the consequences of committing your name to the licentious discourses and malignant opinions of the world: but here, I presume, you thought it would be a breach of friendship, to lose one moment in consulting your understanding; as if an apde main, where a brave man has no rules to follow but the dictates of his courage. Touched with your generosity, 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 placed them to the account of an honest unreflecting indignation, in which your cooler judg ment 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 example. I should have hoped that even my name might carry some authority with it, if I had not seen how very little weight or considera

to raise suspicion in the minds of the people. But I hope that my countrymen will be no longer imposed upon by artful and designing men, or by wretches, who, bankrupts in business, in fame, and in fortune, mean nothing more than to involve 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 conspicuous 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 inpeal to the public were no more than a military coup stances 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 systems; and would endeavor to surprise a good man, who cannot bear to see any one leave him dissatisfied into unguarded promises. Lord Granby'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 suppose that lord Granby's friends have not as much merit as the

tion a printed paper receives, even from the respecta- | who have taken pains to represent your friend in the ble signature of sir William Draper.

character 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 moments, could have described him so well.

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 The last charge, of the neglect of the army, is innot arise from the description, but from the real deed the most material of all. I am sorry to tell you, character and conduct of ministers. To have sup- sir William, that in this article, your first fact is false: ported your assertion, you should have proved, that and as there is nothing more painful to me than to the present ministry are unquestionably the best and give a direct contradiction to a gentleman of your apbrightest characters of the kingdom; and that, if the pearance, I could wish, that, in your future publicaaffections of the colonies have been alienated, if Cor- tions, you would pay a greater attention to the truth sica has been shamefully abandoned, if commerce lan- of your premises, before you suffer your genius to guishes, if public credit is threatened with a new hurry you to a conclusion. Lord Ligonier did not dedebt, and your own Manilla ransom most dishonora- liver the army (which you, in classical language, are bly given up, it has all been owing to the malice of pleased to call a palladium) into lord Granby's hands. political writers, who will not suffer the best and It was taken from him, much against his inclination, brightest characters (meaning still the present min- some two or three years before lord Granby was comistry) to take a single right step for the honor or in- mander-in-chief. As to the state of the army, I terest of the nation. But it seems you were a little should be glad to know where you have received tender of coming to particulars. Your conscience in- your intelligence. Was it in the rooms at Bath, or sinuated to you that it would be prudent to leave the at your retreat at Clifton? The reports of reviewing characters of Grafton, North, Hillsborough, Wey-generals comprehend only a few regiments in England, mouth, and Mansfield, to shift for themselves; and tru- which, as they are immediately under the royal inly, sir William, the part you have undertaken is at spection, are perhaps in some tolerable order. But least as much as you are equal to. do you know any thing of the troops in the West Indies, the Mediterranean, and North America; to say nothing 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 headquarters, which even the acknowledged care and abilities of the adjutant-general cannot correct.

Without disputing lord Granby's courage, we are yet to learn in what articles of military knowledge 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 aud well-concerted enterprise, which might fairly be attributed to his capacity as a general. It is you, sir William, who make your friends appear awkward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of tawdry qualifications, which nature never intended him to wear.

You say, he has acquired nothing but honor in the field? Is the ordnance nothing? Are the 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 deserved them.

As to his bounty, compassion, etc., 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 selling 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 distribution, he consults nothing but parliamentary interest, or the gratification of his immediate dependents. 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 suffered 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 regiment? And does he not, at this moment, give up all character and dignity as a gentleman, in receding from his own repeated declarations in favor of Mr. Wilkes?

Permit me now, sir William, to address myself personally to you, by way of thanks for the honor of your corrospondence. You are by no means undeserving of notice; and it may be of consequence, even to lord Granby, to have it determined, 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 appealed to the public in print. By what accident did it happen, that, in the midst of all this bustle, and all these clamors for justice to your injured troops, the name of the Manilla ransom 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 honor 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 regiment which you afterwards (a thing unprecedented among soldiers) sold to Colonel Gisborne ? Or was it that government, the full pay of which you are contented to hold, with the half-pay of an Irish colonel? And do you now, after a retreat not very like that of Scipio, presume to intrude yourself, unthought of, uncalled for, upon the patience of the public? Are your flatteries of the commander-in-chief, directed to another regiment, which you may again dispose of on the same honorable terms? We know your prudence, sir William; and I should be sorry to JUNIUS.

LETTER IV.

In the next two articles, I think, we are agreed. You candidly admit, that he often makes such prom-stop your preferment. ises 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 part of his character: and as to the other, I desire it may be remembered, I received Junius's favor last night: he is deterthat I never descended to the indecency of inquiring mined to keep his advantage by the help of his mask: into his convivial hours. It is you, sir William Draper, it is an excellent protection: it has saved many a

SIR,

TO JUNIUS.

February 17, 1769.

lose than their arms and their pay, its danger will be great indeed. A happy mixture of men of quality with 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 footing, 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

man from an untimely end. But whenever he will be | defended only by those who have nothing more to honest enough to lay it aside, avow himself, and produce the face which has so long lurked behind it, the world will be able to judge of his motives for writing such infamous 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 men. Junius delights to mangle carcasses with a hatchet; his lan-invasion of Ireland, by assuring them that the army guage and instrument have a great connection 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 construction, the moments of convivial mirth are made to signify indecency, a violation of engagements, a drunken landlord, and a desire that every one in company should be drunk likewise? He must have culled all the flowers of St. Giles's and Billingsgate to have produced such a piece of oratory. Here the hatchet descends with tenfold vengeance: 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 considerable enough to belong to any party. If he should be so, can he affirm that he has always adhered 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 politics sit much too loosely about them. But as my friend's military character was the chief object that engaged me in this controversy, 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 honor? When 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 repeats the complaints of the army against parliamentary 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 would have overborne any private subject. In time of war, this influence is small. In peace, when discontent and faction have the surest means to operate, especially 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 obligations, its weight is always too great. Yet, if this influence, at present, has done no greater harm than the placing earì 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 happy in seeing young noblemen of illustrious name and great property come amongst us. They are an additional security to the kingdom from foreign or domestic slavery. Junius needs not be told, that, should the time ever come when this nation is to be

in that kingdom is totally ruined! (The colonels of that army are much obliged to him.) I have too great an opinion of the military talents of the lordlieutenant, 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-inchief here to blame? Or, is he to blame, because the troops in the Mediterranean, in the West Indies, in America, labor under great difficulties from the scarcity of men, which is but too visible all over these kingdoms? Many of our forces are in climates unfavorable to British constitutions; 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 emigrations of our people to other countries. Such depopulation can only be repaired by a long peace, or by some sensible bill of naturalization.

I must now take the liberty of addressing Junius 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, because 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 having done so, as I had an undoubted right to vindicate 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 clamors for justice to the injured troops, the Manilla ransom was suddenly buried in a profound. and, since that time, an uninterrupted silence? I will explain the cause to the public. The several ministers 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 poplarity to themselves. 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, wicked, 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 giving 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.

public to determine, whether your vindication of your friend has been as able and judicious as it was certainly well intended: and you, I think, may be satisfied with the warm acknowledgments 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 labors be confined to the care of your own reputation. 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. He was aid-de-camp to the king, and had the rank of colonel. A regiment, His majesty was pleased to give me my government therefore, could not make him a more military man, for my service at Madras. I had my first regiment in though it made him richer; and probably at the ex1757. Upon my return from Manilla, his majesty, by pense of some brave, deserving, friendless officer. The lord Egremont, informed me, that I should have the other concerns yourself. After selling the companions first vacant red ribbon, as a reward for many services of your victory in one instance, and after selling your in an enterprise which I had planned as well as ex-profession in the other, by what authority do you ecuted. The duke of Bedford and Mr. Grenville con- presume to call yourself a soldier? The plain evifirmed these assurances, many months before the dence of facts is superior to all declarations. Before Spaniards had protested the ransom bills. To accom- you were appointed to the 16th regiment, your commodate lord Clive, then going upon a most important plaints were a distress to government: from that moservice to Bengal, I waived my claim to the vacancy ment you were silent. The conclusion is inevitable. which then happened. As there was no other vacancy You insinuate to us, that your ill state of health until the duke of Grafton and lord Rockingham were obliged you to quit the service. The retirement necjoint ministers; I was then honored with the order; essary to repair a broken constitution would have and it is surely no small honor to me, that, in such a been as good a reason for not accepting, as for resignsuccession of ministers, they were all pleased to thinking, the command of a regiment. There is certainly that I had deserved it; in my favor they were all an error of the press, or an affected obscurity in that united. Upon the reduction of the 79th regiment, paragraph, where you speak of your bargain with which had served so gloriously in the East Indies, his colonel Gisborne. Instead of attempting to answer majesty, unsolicited by me, gave me the 16th of foot what I do not really understand, permit me to exas an equivalent. My motives for retiring, afterwards, plain to the public what I really know. In exchange are foreign to the purpose: let it suffice, that his ma- for your regiment, you accepted of a colonel's halfjesty was pleased to approve of them: they are such pay, (at least 2201. a year) and an annuity of 2001. for as no man can think indecent, who knows the shocks your own and lady Draper's life jointly. And is this that repeated vicissitudes of heat and cold, of danger- the losing bargain, which you would represent to us, ous and sickly climates, will give to the best consti- as if you had given up an income of 8001. a year for tutions, in a pretty long course of service. I resigned 3801.? Was it decent, was it honorable, in a man my regiment to colonel Gisborne, a very good officer, who pretends to love the army, and calls himself a for his half-pay, and 2007. Irish annuity: so that, soldier, to make a traffic of the royal favor, and turn according to Junius, I have been bribed to say nothing the highest honor of an active profession into a sormore of the Manilla ransom, and to sacrifice those did provision for himself and his tamily? It were brave men, by the strange avarice of accepting 3801. unworthy of me to press you farther. The contempt per annum, and giving up 8001.! If this be bribery, with which the whole army heard of the manner of it is not the bribery of these times. As to my flat- your retreat, assures me, that, as your conduct was tery, those who know me will judge of it. By the not justified by precedent, it will never be thought asperity of Junius's style, I cannot, indeed, call him a an example for imitation. 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 he has insinuated with respect to myself.

WILLIAM DRAPER.

LETTER V.

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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 honor, to the following effect? That you do not actually hold any place 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 color of your reputation, but for your own inward peace of mind.

SIR,

LETTER VI.

TO JUNIUS.

JUNIUS.

February, 27, 1769.

TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, Knight of the Bath. SIR, February 21, 1769. I should justly be suspected of acting upon motives of more than common enmity to lord Granby, if I continued to give you fresh materials or occasion for writing in his defense. Individuals who hate, and I have a very short answer for Junius's important the public who despise, have read your letters, sir question. I do not either take an oath, or declare William, with infinitely more satisfaction than mine. upon my honor, that I hold no place of profit civil Unfortunately for him, his reputation, like that un- or military, when I receive the half-pay as an Irish happy country to which you refer me for his last mili-colonel : my most gracious sovereign gives it me as tary achievements, has suffered more by his friends a pension: he was pleased to think I deserved it. than his enemies. In mercy to him, let us drop the The annuity of 2001. Irish, and the equivalent for the subject. For my own part, I willingly leave it to the half-pay, together produce no more than 3801. per

annum, clear of fees and perquisites of office. I receive 1677. from my government of Yarmouth. Total 5471. per annum. My conscience is much at ease in these particulars: my friends need not blush for me. Junius makes much and frequent use of interrogations: they are arms that may be easily turned against himself. I could, by malicious interrogation, disturb the peace of the most virtuous man in the kingdom. I could take the decalogue, 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 conduct to the rack, Did you never bear false witness against thy neighbor?” Junius must easily see, that, unless he affirms to the contrary, in his real name, some people, who may be as ignorant 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.

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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 or 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 melancholy madness of poetry, without the inspiration. I will not contend with you in point of composition you are a scholar, sir William; and if I am truly informed, you write Latin with almost as much purity as English. Suffer me then (for I am a plain unlettered man) to continue that style of interrogation which suits my capacity, 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 tor

ture.

Do you then really think, that, if I were to ask a most virtuous man, whether he ever committed theft or murder, it would disturb his peace of mind? Such a question might, perhaps, discompose the gravity of his muscles, but I believe it would little affect the tranquillity of his conscience. Examine your own breast, sir William, and you will discover that reproaches and inquiries have no power to afflict *This man, being committed by the court of king's bench for comtempt, voluntarily made oath that he would never answer interrogatories unless he should be put to the torture.

either the man of unblemished integrity or the abandoned profligate. It is the middle compound character which alone is vulnerable; the man who, without firmness 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 appointed to another, I dare say you will not sell it either 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 indiscretion. 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 of provision, which, in their own nature, and in all military and parliamentary views, are incompatible, but I call upon you to justify that declaration, wherein you

charge your sovereign with having done an act in your favor notoriously against law. The half-pay, both in Ireland 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 dishonorable transaction by its true name; a job, to accommodate two persons, by particular interest and management at the castleWhat 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 impossible 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 collect 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 malicious 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.*

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Before you were placed at the head of affairs, it had been a maxim of the English government, not unwillingly 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 subjects; for while it preserved that suspicious attention 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 entirely your own, should carry with them a strong appearance of personal in

to sir William Draper, as the request of lord Granby, that * It has been said, I believe truly, that it was signified he should desist from writing in his lordship's defense. Sir William Draper certainly drew Junius forward to say tended. He was reduced to the dilemma, of either being more of lord Granby's character than he originally intotally silenced, or of supporting his first letter. Whether sir William had a right to reduce him to this dilemma, or on his side, are questions submitted to the candor of the to call upon him for his name, after a voluntary 'attack public. The death of lord Granby was lamented by Junius. He undoubtedly owed some compensations to the public, and seemed determined to acquit himself of them. In private life, he was unquestionably that good man, who, for the interest of his country, ought to have been a great one. Bonum virum facile dixeris! magnum libenter. I speak of him now without partiality; I never spoke of him with resentment. His mistakes, in public conduct, did not arise either from want of sentiment, of 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 remember, 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 disapprobation of the public.

*Les rois nese sont reserves que les graces. Ils renvoient les condamnations vers leurs officiers.-Montesquieu.

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