to quash, will frustrate every design you can inflame. Mr. Wilkes stands now at the head of this opposition: in him you find an enemy, as long as you are an enemy to the constitution of this country: his enmity extends no further; it has nothing meanly personal. As he fights in a glorious cause, he scorns to debase that cause, by copying the littleness which characterised your resentment against him. Whilst the Duke of Cumberland lived, he checked the progress of your diabolical junto. Conscious of his integrity, you desponded of soothing him; and fearing his rigorous justice, you kept out of sight as much as the posture of affairs would permit you. Notwithstanding the many obligations this country was under to him, by his delivering us from the tyranny of a Stuart; and then preserving us from falling into the ministerial slavery of a friend to the Stuarts: you and the junto had the daring insolence to asperse his sacred character, and endeavoured to rob him of the love of the people; but that love was founded on a basis your strongest endeavours could not shake—his virtue. The Earl of Bute gloried in the infamy of having manufactured the peace; he did not so avowedly confess that by your help he had established it. The Stuarts were ever fond of peace, and loved to bask in the sunshine of public tranquillity: intestine broils only dignify their annals. The granting this dishonourable peace, was the first means of beginning a domestic

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war: the nation was in general displeased at it; a revenge for the many undeserved injuries we had received from our continual enemies, was just, was laudable; and granting them a cessation of arms, was only giving them time to prepare themselves for future hostilities. The French, at the close of the war, were in the utmost distress; the navy but small, and out of repair; the army imbecilitated, and on the point of mutiny; and the whole nation trembling under the English flag, and dissatisfied with the conduct of their ministers. The best attribute of the king is mercy; but it was certainly here ill-timed. How can we sufficiently admire the clemency, which so royally condescended to stop the torrent of blood, and sheathe the ravaging sword of war, by ceding all our valuable conquests, which had cost us so much blood; (but, in the system of the present ministry, English blood is of no estimation :) whilst, in the humility of our desires, we retained whatever could be of no use to us, and was but an incumbrance to the enemy. This concession shall bear the name of Bute to posterity, and grace his monument with the infamy he so richly deserves. The French are again in high spirits; they see the prospect brighten on every side, and are vigourously preparing every necessary material for the carrying on a future war, with better accommodations, and, in all probability, better success. No sooner had our glorious monarch given peace to Europe, but he began to turn his

thoughts on the ease which peace allowed him; but you, stung with resentment at the writings of a man obnoxious to your favourite minister, the Earl of Bute, disturbed his serenity. Unaccountable are the prejudices of age; what could so bias you to that enemy of this country is to me a mystery I cannot dive into. The North Briton contained facts, which could not be evaded by a plain denial. An affirmation that it was a seditious libel, was not sufficient to invalidate its arguments. However, Mr. Wilkes having gloriously headed the opposition, and given great disgust by divulging important truths, which should not be told; you began a persecution which does honour to his fortitude, and displays how little it is in your power to injure his noble spirit. You have continued this persecution with all the littleness which distinguishes the creatures of the ministry; you have humbled yourself to the meanest offices in the state, and acted only as a mere machine of convenience, by which the Thane received the approbation of * *. May you

be taught what your birth and royal alliances require; and make a better use of the gifts which fortune has so blindly lavished upon you.

"May 10, 1770."

"DECIMUS.

LETTER V.

"For the Middlesex Journal, 22nd May, 1770.

"My Lord,

"To the Prime Minister.

"As a lover of justice, I cannot see you blamed for measures in which you act only in obedience to a higher power, without endeavouring to vindicate you. It is an unfortunate circumstance that you are saddled with the title of premier: people who know nothing of the matter think you act as such.-It shall be my task to inform them better, and rescue the reputation of an innocent servant from ruin. As character is all menial slaves have to depend upon, 'tis a cruelty beneath humanity to deprive you of your only support, by indulging the caprice of patriotism, and mistaking the servant for the master.

“That we have suffered in regard to our liberties is undoubted; that the constitution is now falling to decay, nothing but the fee'd conscience of Sir Fletcher Norton can deny. But they are infants in politics who charge you, or even his Grace, with the whole infamy of these glorious transactions- -No-there are still higher powers, from whose hands we are to expect good or evil: and yet this is not the k- I am charitable enough to believe his majesty is no more a principal

than your lordship: the only difference between you I take to be this, the one is paid, and the other pays, and dearly too, for his labour. Who these higher powers are is no secret; their influence has been felt since the last memorable peace, and their influence is now laying in additional causes to increase the distractions of this unhappy kingdom.

"As a servant to these powers I have nothing to accuse you with: you have implicitly obeyed every command which Jeremiah Dyson has honoured you with. I feel some little hurt to my pride, as an Englishman, in seeing a thing which represents a minister, the director of the affairs of the nation, degraded so low as to be the servant of titled valets and petty clerks. Sir Gilbert mouths his orders like an oracle; he speaks by inspiration from above, and his word is fate. The merit of this favoured counsellor is a little uncommon; his talents are too contemptible for examination: in the mid-way state, between a city alderman and ideocy, he has all that little cunning which distinguishes fools: his talkative qualifications are not worth notice; and yet he is a chief director in the first junto of the state. His only merit lies in what he has seen-what he has heard-and what he has read concerning certain matters of which we speak darkly. But how, in the name of wonder, can those accomplishments qualify him for the council board? It might be the means of richly shutting his mouth, and none