What conclusion shall we draw from such facts, and such arguments, such contradictions? I cannot express my opinion of the present Ministry more exactly than in the words of Sir Richard Steele, "That we are governed by a set of drivellers, whose folly "takes away all dignity from distress, and makes even "calamity ridiculous."

PHILO JUNIUS.

LETTER XXIII.

TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF BEDFORD.

MY LORD,

September 19, 1769.

YOU are so little accustomed to receive any marks of respect or esteem from the public, that if, in the following lines, a compliment or expression of applause should escape me, I fear you would consider it as a mockery of your established character, and, perhaps, an insult to your understanding. You have nice feelings, my Lord, if we may judge from your resentments. Cautious, therefore, of giving offence, where you have so little deserved it, I shall leave the illustration of your virtues to other hands. Your friends have a privilege to play upon the easiness of your temper, or, possibly, they are better acquainted

with your good qualities than I am. You have done good by stealth. The rest is upon record. You have still left ample room for speculation, when panegyric is exhausted.

.-The

You are, indeed, a very considerable man.highest rank; a splendid fortune; and a name, glorious, till it was yours; were sufficient to have supported you with meaner abilities than I think you possess. From the first, you derive a constitutional claim to respect; from the second, a natural extensive authority: the last created a partial expectation of hereditary virtues. The use you have made of these uncommon advantages, might have been more honourable to yourself, but could not be more instructive to mankind. We may trace it in the veneration of your country, the choice of your friends, and in the accomplishment of every sanguine hope which the public might have conceived from the illustrious name of Russel.

The eminence of your station gave you a commanding prospect of your duty. The road which led to honour, was open to your view.-You could not lose it by mistake, and you had no temptation to depart from it by design.-Compare the natural dignity and importance of the highest peer of England; the noble independence which he might have maintained in parliament; and the real interest and respect which he might have acquired, not only in

parliament, but through the whole kingdom; compare these glorious distinctions, with the ambition of holding a share in government, the emoluments of a place, the sale of a borough, or the purchase of a corporation; and though you may not regret the virtues which create respect, you may see with anguish how much real importance and authority you have lost. Consider the character of an independent virtuous Duke of Bedford; imagine what he might be in this country; then reflect one moment upon what you are. If it be possible for me to withdraw my attention from the fact, I will tell you in the theory what such a man might be.

Conscious of his own weight and importance, his conduct in parliament would be directed by nothing but the constitutional duty of a peer-He would consider himself as a guardian of the laws. Willing to support the just measures of government, but determined to observe the conduct of the minister with suspicion; he would oppose the violence of faction with as much firmness as the encroachments of prerogative.-He would be as little capable of bargaining with the minister for places for himself, or his dependents, as of descending to mix himself in the intrigues of opposition. Whenever an important question called for his opinion in parliament, he would be heard by the most profligate minister with deference and respect.-His authority would either sanctify or disgrace the measures of government.

The people would look up to him as their protector : and a virtuous prince would have one honest man in his dominions, in whose integrity and judgment he might safely confide. If it should be the will of Providence to afflict * him with a domestic misfortune, he would submit to the stroke with feeling, but not without dignity. He would consider the people as his children, and receive a generous, heart-felt consolation, in the sympathizing tears and blessings of his country.

Your Grace may probably discover something more intelligible in the negative part of this illustrious character. The man I have described would never prostitute his dignity in parliament, by an indecent violence, either in opposing or defending a minister. He would not at one moment rancorously persecute, at another basely cringe, to the favourite of his Sovereign. After outraging the royal dignity with peremptory conditions, little short of menace and hostility, he would never descend to the humility of soliciting an interview + with the favourite, and of offering to recover, at any price, the honour of his

*The Duke had lately lost his only son by a fall from his horse.

† At this interview, which passed at the house of the late Lord Eglingtoune, Lord Bute told the Duke, that he was determined never to have any connexion with a man who had so basely betrayed him.

friendship. Though deceived, perhaps, in his youth, he would not, through the course of a long life, have invariably chosen his friends from among the most profligate of mankind.-His own honour would have forbidden him from mixing his private pleasures or conversation with jockeys, gamesters, blasphemers, gladiators, or buffoons. He would then have never felt, much less would he have submitted to, the dishonest necessity of engaging in the interests and intrigues of his dependents; of supplying their vices, or relieving their beggary, at the expence of his country. He would not have betrayed such ignorance, or such contempt, of the constitution, as openly to avow, in a court of justice, the purchase * and sale of a borough. He would not have thought it consistent with his rank in the state, or even with his personal importance, to be the little tyrant of a little corporation †. He would never have been insulted with virtues which he had laboured to extinguish; nor suffered the disgrace of a mortifying

* In an answer in Chancery, in a suit against him to recover a large sum, paid him by a person whom he had under. taken to return to parliament for one of his Grace's boroughs, he was compelled to repay the money.

+ Of Bedford, where the tyrant was held in such con. tempt and detestation, that, in order to deliver themselves from him, they admitted a great number of strangers to the freedom. To make his defeat truly ridiculous, he tried his whole strength against Mr. Horne, and was beaten upon his own ground.