SIR,

LETTER LXXVII.

TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER.

November 19, 1770. A FEW days ago I was in a large public company, where there happened some curious conversation. The Secretary at War was pleased to express himself with unusual simplicity and candour. He assured us that, after having carefully considered the subject, he did not know a single general officer (out of near an hundred now in the service) who was in any shape qualified to command the army; and, for fear we should not believe him, repeated and inforced his assertion five several times. You will allow, Sir, that, at the eve of a foreign war, this is pretty comfortable intelligence for the nation, especially as it comes from authority. He gave us some consolation, however, by assuring us that he and General Hervey would take excellent care of the army, and compared himself (not unhappily) to an old woman curing an ague with the assistance of Dr. Radcliff. I don't so much question Mr. Hervey's being able to give good advice as that other little man's being either willing or able to follow it; but I should be glad to know which of them is to be responsible to the country for the management of the army, or whether they are invested with equal powers. Is Lord Barrington the marksman and General Hervey only the stalking-horse? Or does the latter command and that other only do as he is bid? This point, I think, ought to be explained, for if we don't know who commands the army, and any mischief should happen, the Secretary at War and Adjutant General will of course lay the blame upon each other, and the nation never know which of them ought to be punished.

* Lord Viscount Barrington.

TESTIS.

LETTER LXXVIII*.

TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER

SIR, November 24, 1770. I HAVE never joined in the severe censures which have lately been thrown upon Lord Barrington. The formal declaration he was pleased to make (for the information of the House of Commons and of this country) with respect to the shameful ignorance and incapacity of all the general officers, without exception, may, for aught I know, be extremely well founded; and if it were not so, I do not consider the Viscount as a free agent. He undoubtedly meant no more than, as a dutiful servant, to obey the orders and express the sentiments of his royal master. The Secretary at War, it is true, has a multitude of enemies, but the bitterest of them will not affirm that he is positively an idiot without a single ray of understanding. That would be going a little too far. Yet he must certainly be the very weakest of the human species if, without any plan or purpose whatsoever, he loaded himself with the hatred and resentment of so large and powerful a body of men as the general_officers. This, I think, is too absurd to be supposed. Yet I do not pretend to deny the fact; on the contrary, I mean to account for it upon clear and rational principles. If it be the King's intention (as we have sufficient reason to think it is) to govern the army himself (by which means the disposal of commissions, like everything else, will ultimately centre in Carlton House), the first step is to possess the public with an opinion that this measure is not of choice but necessity. When the Secretary at War has informed the House of Commons, in the name of his gracious master (for it is not to be suspected that he spoke for himself), that all his general officers were no better than drivellers, it follows of course that the Secretary at War, with the Adjutant General's advice, must be the ostensible manager of the army, and then you see, Sir, every

On the outside of Note No. 25, which accompanied this letter, was written, by the author, "the enclosed strikes deeper than you may imagine. C."

thing goes on as her Royal Highness the Princess Dowager of Wales would have it.

Far be it from me to impeach his Majesty's judgment in military matters. Our gracious Sovereign cannot possibly have a meaner opinion of his general officers than I have. Yet I own there is one circumstance that a little surprises me. These poor creatures, it is agreed on all hands, have neither capacity nor experience; but one would think that, as soldiers and gentlemen, they might show a little spirit when they are insulted. What, will they go to court again, to bow, and cringe, and fawn upon *****, who orders his official servant to point them out to their country as a knot of idiots -asses-mules-beasts of burthen!

This affair, Sir (as many other circumstances do, and more important ones may do hereafter), puts me in mind of the sincere, honest, candid character of that pious prince, Charles the First. When a great number of the first people of this country had hazarded their lives and spent their fortunes in his defence, and when, in the last instance, they had formed a convention at Oxford, which, if not a parliament, was at least a meeting highly respectable, what return did they receive from that devout, religious, grateful monarch? He flattered them to their faces, and the next moment wrote to nis wife that they were a base mutinous set of mongrels, whom he was happy to get rid of.

ETSTICULUS.

LETTER LXXIX

TO THE PRINTER OF THE PUBLIC ADVERTISER

SIR, December 8, 1770. A REPORT prevails that the late premier is very soon to be placed at the head of the admiralty. I thought Junius had fairly hissed him off the stage. But since he adventures again to appear before the public, let me do justice to his modesty, and commend him for his discretion in sinking to an inferior character. I should be sorry to interrupt so natural a descent. By dropping gradually from part to part, he may in time arrive at something that will suit his capacity.

Besides the moral fitness of reducing all men to their proper level, there will be a novelty in the public entertainment, when we see the same wretched stroller, who strutted yesterday in Othello, creeping upon the stage to day in the shape of a candle-snuffer.

In the article of firmness, I think this young man's character is universally given up; but I observe there is still an opinion maintained by some people that, in point of ability, he is not deficient. For my own part, Sir, I never could discover upon what foundation that opinion rested. Let it be fairly tried by the two great decisive tests of the human understanding-conduct and discourse. These, I know, are sometimes at variance with each other. An ingenious man may act very absurdly, and we frequently see a dull fellow conduct himself with firmness and propriety. It is the Duke's misfortune that he fails equally in both articles-that he neither acts with judgment nor speaks with ability. Look at his conduct from the outset; I mean with a reference not to the treachery, but to the folly of the man. His earliest personal attachment in life was to the Duke of Portland; that friendship he has foolishly dissolved, without succeeding in his purpose, to oblige Sir James Lowther. His first public connection was with Lord Rockingham. That too is lost, together with the friendship of Lord Chatham, for which he sacrificed the Marquis. For the solidity of his union with Lord Chatham he pledged himself to the public by some very uncommon declarations, both abroad and in parliament. Yet from this union, and his subsequent friendship with Lord Granby and Lord Camden, the cajolery of the closet soon seduced him. His easy virtue is not made for resistance. To support his last plan, we have seen him renounce not only all these successive connections, but every political idea, opinion, and principle of his former life, and throw himself, body and soul, into the arms of the Bedfords. Here, at least, he might have stopped, since there was not another party in the kingdom to which it was possible for him to transfer his affections. He had gone resolutely through the whole drudgery of the Middlesex election. He had paid Governor Burgoyne's expenses very handsomely by the sale of that patent to Mr. Hine, which the right honourable the House of Commons have not yet thought proper to inquire into. He

had shown fortitude enough to drop the prosecution of Mr. Vaughan, though urged, insulted, braved to it by every stimulus that could touch the feelings of a man; and, in conclusion, he had made himself accessory to the untimely death of Mr. Yorke;-I say accessory, because he was certainly not the principal actor in that most atrocious business. After all, Sir, when it was impossible for him to add to his guiltiness, a panic seizes him, he begins to measure his expectations by the sense of his deserts, a visionary gibbet appears before his eyes, he flies from his post, surrenders to another the reward due to his honourable services, and leaves his King and country to extricate themselves, if they can, from the distress and confusion in which he had involved them.

The danger, as he conceives, being now pretty well over, what plan do you think this worthy, resolute young man pursues at present? While he was First Lord of the Treasury, it is well known (and I speak from knowledge when I assert), that he never treated Lord North even with the common civility due to his clerk. I appeal to Lord North himself, and to every clerk in the treasury (particularly to Grey Cooper), whether it was not known to be a difficult matter for the Chancellor of the Exchequer to obtain an audience even of Mr. Thomas Bradshaw. Would you believe it possible, Sir, that, after these facts, this very Duke of Grafton can be so degraded, so lost to every sensation of pride, of dignity, and decorum, as to be a suppliant beggar for employment to this very Lord North? Yet so it is; and, if I were to tell you with what circumstances of humiliation he accompanies his suit to the minister, the narrative would be nauseous and fulsome. He is so very impatient to be First Lord of the Admiralty, that Lord North can hardly keep the fawning creature from under his feet. Now, Sir, let any man living, I care not whether friend or foe, review this summary of his life, and tell us in what instance he has discovered a single ray of wisdom, solidity, or judgment?

As to the other test of his abilities, I mean his talent for talking in public, I can speak with greater precision, for I have often had the honour of hearing him. With a very

solemn and plausible delivery, he has a set of thoughts, or rather of words resembling thoughts, which may be applied indifferently, and with equal success, to all possible subjects.