the rank or power. You, indeed, are a tyrant of another sort; and, upon your political bed of torture, can excruciate any subject, from a first minister down to such a grub or butterfly as myself: like another detested tyrant of antiquity, can make the wretched sufferer fit the bed, if the bed will not fit the sufferer, by disjointing or tearing the trembling limbs, until they are stretched to its extremity. But courage, constancy, and patience, under torments, have sometimes caused the most hardened monsters to relent, and forgive the object of their cruelty. You, Sir, are determined to try all that human nature can endure, until she expires; else, was it possible that you could be the author of that most inhuman letter to the Duke of Bedford, I have read with astonishment and horror? Where, Sir, where were the feelings of your own heart, when you could upbraid a most affectionate father with the loss of his only and most amiable son? Read over again those cruel lines of yours, and let them wring your very soul! Cannot political questions be discussed, without descending to the most odious personalities? Must you go wantonly out of your way to torment declining age, because the Duke of Bedford may have quarrelled with those whose cause and politics you espouse? For shame! For shame!

As you have spoke daggers to him, yoù may. justly dread the use of them against your own breast, did a want of courage, or of noble sentiments, stimulate him to such 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 conscience, must, and will, if you have any spark of humanity remaining, give him most ample vengeance. Not all the power of words with which you are so graced, will ever wash out, or even palliate, this foul blot in your character. I have not time, at present, to dissect your letter so minutely as I could wish; but I will be bold enough to say, that it is (as to reason and argument) the most extraordinary piece of florid impotence that was ever imposed upon the eyes and ears of the too credulous and deluded mob. It accuses the Duke of Bedford of high treason. Upon what foundation? You tell us," the Duke's 66 pecuniary character makes it more than probable, that he could not have made such sacri"fices at the peace, without some private com"pensations; that his conduct carried with it an "interior evidence, beyond all the legal proofs "of a court of justice."

My academical education, Sir, bids me tell

you, that it is necessary to establish the truth of your first proposition, before you presume to draw inferences from it. First prove the avarice, before you make the rash, hasty, and most wicked conclusion. This father, Junius, whom you call avaricious, allowed that son eight thousand pounds a year. Upon his most unfortunate death, which your usual 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 master of a family; if splendour and just magnificence, without wild waste and thoughtless extravagance, may constitute 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, or the evidence of letters, or ocular; or the evidence of those concerned in this black affair? Produce your authorities to the public. It is a most impudent kind of sorcery, to attempt to blind us with the smoke, without convincing us that the fire has existed. You first brand him with a vice that he is free