little tender of coming to particulars. Your conscience insinuated to you that it would be prudent to leave the characters of Grafton, North, Hillsborough, Weymouth, and Mansfield to shift for themselves; and truly, Sir William, the part you have undertaken is at least as much as you are equal to.

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 and well-concerted enterprise, which might fairly be attributed to his capacity as a general. It is you, Sir William, who make your friend appear awkward and ridiculous, by giving him a laced suit of tawdry qualifications which Nature never intended him to wear.

tray 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 ?

In the two next articles I think we are agreed. You candidly admit that he often makes such promises 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 that I never descended to the indecency of inquiring into his convivial hours. It is you, Sir William Draper, who have taken pains to represent your friend in the 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 frequenthave seen him in these unhappy, disgraceful moments, could have described him so well.

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, noth-ly ing? Where he got these nothings I know not; but you, at least, ought to have told us where he deserved them.

As to his bounty, compassion, &c., 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 Commanderin-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 interests, 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 bethis, the Grafton ministry had decided three months before to give her up, and the great body of the nation were indignant, at this decision.

In respect to the Manilla ransom, it has already been stated, that the Spanish court, in their usual spirit, had endeavored to evade the debt. Year af ter year had been spent in fruitless negotiations, when the decided tone recommended by Lord Chat ham would have at once secured payment. The nation felt disgraced by this tame endurance. Sir Will iam Draper was indeed rewarded with the order of the Bath, whose "blushing ribbon" is so stingingly alluded to at the close of this letter. He also received the pecuniary emoluments here mentioned. But all this was considered by many as mere favoritism, and the reward of his silence; for Admiral Cornish, who commanded the fleet in that expedition, together with the inferior officers and troops, was left to languish and die without redress.

Sir Jeffery Amherst was a favorite general of Lord Chatham, and conducted most of his great en terprises in America. He was rewarded with the office of Governor of Virginia, but was abruptly displaced in 1768, through the interposition of Hillsborgh, chiefly on account of his friendship for Chathim. He was, however, speedily raised to a high

The last charge, of the neglect of the army, is indeed the most material of all. I am sorry to tell you, Sir William, that in this article your first fact is false;" and as there is nothing more painful to me than to give a direct contradiction to a gentleman of your appearance, I could wish that, in your future publications, you would pay a greater attention to the truth of your premises, before you suffer your genius to hurry you to a conclusion. Lord Ligonier did not deliver the army (which you, in classical language, are pleased to call a Palladium) into Lord Granby's hands. It was taken from him, much against his inclination, some two or three years before Lord Granby was Commander-in-chief. As to the state of the army, I should be glad to know where you have received your intelligence. Was it in the rooms at Bath, or at your retreat at Clifton? The reports of reviewing generals comprehend only a few regiments in England, which, 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 [General Harvey] can not correct.

er station in the army, through the determined interposition of his friends, but not (as Junius intimates) through that of Lord Granby.

In respect to Lord Percy, it was bitterly complained of in the army that he should receive a regiment "plainly by way of pension to the noble, disinterested house of Percy," for their support of the ministry, while the most meritorious officers were passed over in neglect, and suffered, after years of arduous service, to languish in want.

It is hardly correct to say that a fact is false, but rather the statement which affirms it.

ransom, he says that he had complained, and even appealed to the public, but his efforts with the ministry were in vain. "Some were ingenuous enough to own that they could not think of involving this distressed nation into 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.'

Permit me now, Sir William, to address my-tary skill and capacity." As to the Manilla self personally to you, by way of thanks for the honor 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 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 afterward (a thing unprecedented among soldiers) sold to Colonel Gisborne? Or was it that government [of Yarmouth], 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 your self, 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 stop your preferment.

JUNIUS.

Sir William Draper, in reply to this Letter, said, concerning Lord Granby, "My friend's political engagements I know not, so can not pretend to explain them, or assert their consistency." He does, however, reassert "his mili

His pecuniary transactions he explained in a manner which ought to have satisfied any candid mind, that there was nothing in them either dishonest or dishonorable. As to his being rewarded with office and preferment, while his companions in arms were neglected, this was certainly not to be imputed to him as a crime, since his services merited all he received. Still, he may, on this account, have been more willing (as Junius insinuated) to remain quiet. He closed his second letter thus: “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 hav ing deviated a little from the truth; therefore let Junius ask no more questions. You bite against a file; cease, viper!"

6

LETTER

TO SIR WILLIAM DRAPER, KNIGHT OF THE BATH.1

SIR,-An academical education has given you an unlimited command over the most beautiful figures of 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

1 Dated March 3, 1769. This was the Io Triumphe of Junins in closing the correspondence.

your answers, you ought to have no objection. Even Mr. Bingley promises to answer, if put to the torture.

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

2 This man was a bookseller, who had been subpœnaed by the government in the case of Wilkes. For some reason, he refused to answer the questions put by either party, and made himself the laughing-stock of both, by declaring under oath that he would never answer until put to the torture. He was imprisoned a number of months for contempt of court, and at last released.

LETTER

TO HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON,1

5

ships better suited to your genius, and more likely to fix your disposition. Marriage is the point on which every rake is stationary at last; and truly, my Lord, you may well be weary of the circuit you have taken, for you have now fairly traveled through every sign in the political zodiac, from the Scorpion in which you stung Lord Chatham, to the hopes of a Virgin in the house of Bloomsbury. One would think that you had had sufficient experience of the frailty of nuptial engagements, or, at least, that such a friendship as the Duke of Bedford's might have been secured to you by the auspicious marriage of your late Duchess with his nephew. But ties of this tender nature can not be drawn too close; and it may possibly be a part of the Duke of Bedford's ambition, after making her an honest woman, to work a miracle of the same sort upon your Grace. This worthy nobleman has long dealt in virtue. There has been a large con

which young men usually set out with, and sel- | you to yourself, and to withdraw his name from dom preserve; grave and plausible enough to be an administration which had been formed on the thought fit for business; too young for treach-credit of it. You had then a prospect of friendery; and, in short, a patriot of no unpromising expectations. Lord Chatham was the earliest object of your political wonder and attachment; yet you deserted him, upon the first hopes that offered of an equal share of power with Lord Rockingham. When the Duke of Cumberland's first negotiation failed, and when the Favorite was pushed to the last extremity, you saved him, by joining with an administration in which Lord Chatham had refused to engage. Still, however, he was your friend, and you are yet to explain to the world why you consented to act without him, or why, after uniting with Lord Rockingham, you deserted and betrayed him. You complained that no measures were taken to satisfy your patron, and that your friend, Mr. Wilkes, who had suffered so much for the party, had been abandoned to his fate. They have since contributed, not a little, to your present plenitude of power; yet, I think, Lord Chatham has less reason than ever to be satisfied; and assumption of it in his own family; and in the way for Mr. Wilkes, it is, perhaps, the greatest misfortune of his life that you should have so many compensations to make in the closet for your former friendship with him. Your gracious master understands your character, and makes you a persecutor, because you have been a friend.

Lord Chatham formed his last administration upon principles which you certainly concurred in, or you could never have been placed at the head of the treasury. By deserting those principles, and by acting in direct contradiction to them, in which he found you were secretly supported in the closet, you soon forced him to leave

See on this subject the sketch of Lord Chatham's life, p. 66. The Duke of Grafton had been the protégé and adherent of his Lordship; but he joined the administration of Lord Rockingham in 1765, as Secretary of State, while Chatham declared to the House that he could not give his confidence or support to the new ministers. Still, he stated in the same speech that "some of them asked his opinion before they accepted, and that he advised them to do it." The Duke of Grafton may have been one of the number, and in that case, the present is one of the many instances in which Junius perverts facts for the sake of wounding an adversary.

of traffic, I dare say, he has bought and sold more than half the representative integrity of the nation.8

In a political view this union is not imprudent. The favor of princes is a perishable commodity. You have now a strength sufficient to command the closet; and if it be necessary to betray one friendship more, you may set even Lord Bute at defiance. Mr. Stuart Mackenzie may possibly remember what use the Duke of Bedford usually makes of his power; and our gracious sover

Lord Chatham did ultimately withdraw his name for this reason, October, 1768; though his previous illness had prevented him from taking the lead of the government, and had thus given the Duke of Grafton an opportunity to gain the King's favor, which could be permanently secured only by abandoning the principles and friendship of Lord Chatham.

The facts here referred to betray a shameless profligacy in all the parties concerned. While the Duke of Grafton was parading his mistress before the public at the Opera House, his wife had an adulterous connection with Lord Upper Ossory, nephew of the Duke of Bedford. For this she was divorced, and was soon after married by her paramour, who • Cooke, speaking of this period in his History of thus brought her into the Bedford circle. Incredible Party, vol. iii., 105, says, "The Duke of Grafton, the as it may seem, the Duke of Grafton became in a present premier, although still a young man, had short time affianced to a member of the same circle. passed through several shades of politics. During Miss Wrottesley, a niece of the Duchess of Bedford the struggle upon the subject of general warrants, ("a virgin of the house of Bloomsbury'); so that Juhe had strenuously supported Wilkes; and he had, nius represents it as the ambition of the Duke of Bedsince that time, repeated his assurances of protec- ford, after making the adultress "an honest woman, tion and friendship. When placed by Lord Chat to work a miracle of the same sort" on her former ham at the head of the treasury, he had, through his husband, the Duke of Grafton! This exposure of own brother, conveyed a similar message to the im- their shame would have satisfied most persons; but patient democrat, who, inflated with hope, returned Junius, in the next paragraph, dexterously turns the to England to receive his pardon. He found, how-whole to a new purpose, viz., that of inflaming the ever, upon his arrival, that nothing was intended in his favor. He revenged himself by writing and publishing a severe letter to the Duke of Grafton, taxing him with faithlessness and prevarication; and he returned in bitter disappointment to his exile and his poverty."

public mind against the minister, as designing, by this connection, to "gain strength sufficient to command the closet;" imputing to him the unpopular friendship of Lord Bute, and a design to betray it! 9 When the Duke of Bedford became minister in 1763, he forced the King, against his wishes (as it