as they are immediately under the royal inspection, are perhaps in some tolerable order. But 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 head-quarters, which even the acknowledged care and abilities of the adjutant-general cannot correct.

Permit me now, Sir William, to address myself personally to you, by way of thanks for the honour of your correspondence. 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 clamours 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 honour to desert and betray the cause of his fellow-soldiers? Was it that blushing ribband, 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 honourable terms? We know your prudence, Sir William, and I should be sorry to stop your preferment.

JUNIUS.

1

LETTER IV....TO JUNIUS.

SIR William Draper severely felt the force of the argument and invective in the preceding Letter. He was excited to make a second attempt, to vindicate as well his own honour, as that of the Marquis of Granby, and to evince, if possible, that his literary“ talents were not utterly contemptible in comparison with those of JUNIUS. With these views, straining all his abilities, he wrote the following Letter.

It is undeniably of considerable merit, as a piece of exculpatory eloquence. It is written more carefully than his former Letter, and with somewhat more of oratorical art. Yet, even here, he deals with too much of artless candour; he affects too much the use of such ornaments as are fitted to adorn the theme of a school-boy, or the laboured essay of a college pedant; he descends into detail and confession, too much in the manner of a man that felt himself humbled, awed, subdued, before his adversary. This Letter begins with remarking, what advantages JUNIUS derives from the concealment of his person; how dishonest are the motives by which he must be prompted; how bitter his malignity; how ungenerous his misrepresentations; how powerfully his literary talents have seconded the badness of his heart. The author, next, renews his defence of Lord Granby; and maintains it with a degree of skill that seems to have been sufficient to deter JUNIUS from returning upon that nobleman's character as a fit subject of political satire. Of the state of the army, too, Sir William here writes with a knowledge of military fitness, and of the certain principles of human action, by which the force of the animadversions of JUNIUS is in a great degree destroyed. But, when this worthy man comes to speak of himself, he at once discovers the whole extent of his humiliation. He makes confession, as if he were on the rack; and, in the fulness of his heart, brings his adversary acquainted with facts against him, which but for this too frank discovery, might not have become publicly known. Had he

not thus furnished his opponents with a key to secrets, of which the notoriety was to make him odious, perhaps he might have come off from the contention, without heart-bitterness or disgrace.

SIR,

17. February, 1769.

I RECEIVED JUNIUS's favour last night: he is determined to keep his advantage by the help of his mask; it is an excellent protection, it has saved many a man from an untimely end. But whenever he will be 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 con ́demn measures, without a barbarous and criminal outrage against men. JUNIUS delights to mangle

But whenever he will be honest enough, &c.] Shall, not will, is the word which, in strict propriety of writing, ought to have been here used. Nothing in the idiomatic peculiarities of the English language, is less easily mastered, than skill to use the two auxiliary words shall and will, with delicate correctness, in every possible case in which the necessities of thought may demand their use.

JUNIUS delights to mangie carcases with a hatchet, &c.] From the beginning of this period to the end of the paragraph, Sir William

carcases with a hatchet: his language and instrument have a great connection with Clare-market; 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.

Draper makes an awkward and pedantic use of the figure of the hatchet. JUNIUS is now a butcher mangling carcases with his hatchet, then an American warrior throwing it; next a nosegaymaker, culling the flowers of St. Giles's and Billingsgate; again, an executioner, who in this culling of flowers makes his axe descend with vengeance. To this confusion, and this pedantry of metaphors, in the Letters of Sir William Draper, we shall hereafter find JUNIUS alluding with great force of sarcasm.

Alas! it hurts no one but its master!] Alas! had nothing to do in this place. Sir William Draper meant not seriously to regret, that JUNIUS should injure no one but himself: and there is no peculiar force of irony in this use of the word Alas!