it accumulates such a mass of circumstantial evidence, as renders it extremely difficult to believe he is not; and that, if so many coincidences shall be found to have misled us in this case, our faith in all conclusions drawn from proofs of a similar kind may henceforth be shaken.

We must premise, as this is in some sort a personal question, that we have undertaken to state the argument, without the slightest feeling of disrespect towards the distinguished individual who forms the subject of it. We may add, that we are equally uninfluenced by any idea of doing him honour. If there be any thing in the Letters of Junius which Sir Philip Francis would now wish unwritten, or if he conceives any imputation to be flung upon his conduct in very early life, by the assumption that he was the author, surely the most stern moralist may well be appeased, by the lapse of half a century spent in the undeviating pursuit of the publick good, and the virtuous sacrifice of all personal interests; while, on the other hand, the high rank in which those services have placed him among the patriots of his age, and the almost unbounded praise which his talents have called forth from those judges to whom a wise man would chiefly look, render it a matter of indifference to his fame, whether or not he enjoys the more general, and perhaps vulgar, celebrity which belongs to the name of Junius.

To the greater number of readers, the first question that presents itself is, Whether Sir Philip Francis has ever shown the eminent talents displayed in Junius's Letters? However high his reputation may be in the political world, there is no one avowed production of his which has attracted much popular, or permanent notice, or is at present familiar to public recollection; and he has therefore shared the fate of many able men whose time has been devoted to the business of the world, and whose labour, chiefly bestowed upon subjects connected with their pursuits, has left no lasting monuments of their skill in composition. So it has fared with Sir Philip Francis. His contemporaries well knew him to be one of the best writers of the age; but his writings consisted chiefly of minutes, protests, speeches and pamphlets, which have long since ceased to interest the world at large, and are only known to political men, or curious inquirers into the details of modern history. We shall therefore begin the argument, by presenting a few specimens of his composition, sufficient to justify the assertion, that the author of Junius, whoever he may be, was not a person of greater talents than Sir Philip Francis. The proof drawn from similarity of expressions will be further strengthened in the seVOL. XXIX. NO. 57.

quel by particular instances. All that we desire the reader, in this stage of the discussion, to consider, is the general ability displayed in the composition. We take all the examples from his speeches, carefully written and published by himself. The first shall be from his attack upon the Lawyers in the House of Commons.

It belongs to the learning of these gentlemen to involve, and to their prudence not to decide.

In the name of God and common sense, what have we gained by consulting these learned persons! It is really a strange thing, but it is certainly true, that the learned gentlemen on that side of the House, let the subject be what it may, always begin their speeches with a panegyric on their own integrity. You expect learning, and they give you morals; you expect law, and they give you ethics; you ask them for bread, and they give you a stone. In point of honour and morality, they are undoubtedly on a level with the rest of mankind. But why should they pretend to more? Why should they insist on taking the lead in morality? Why should they so perpetually insist upon their integrity, as if that were the objection in limine; as if that were the point in question; as if that were the distinguishing characteristic, the prominent feature of the profession? Equality is their right. I allow it. But that they have any just pretensions to a superior morality, to a pure and elevated probity, to a frank, plain, simple, candid, unrefined integrity, beyond other men, is what I am not convinced of, and never will admit.

On my principles, however, the damage we have suffered is not. very great. In attending to this learned gentleman, we have lost nothing but our time; we have wasted nothing but our patience. The question before us may easily, and can only be determined by ourselves. p. 175, 176.

The following passage is from a speech delivered in 1796.

If I could personify the House of Commons, it would be my interest as well as my duty to approach so great a person with the utmost respect. But respect does not exclude firmness, and should not restrain me from saying, that it is the function of your greatness, as well as of your office, to listen to truth, especially when it arraigns a proceeding of your own. I am not here to admire your consistency, or to applaud the conduct which I am endeavouring to correct. These topics do not furnish any subject for applause. You have nothing like praise to expect from me; unless you feel, as I do, that a compliment of the highest order is included in the confidence which appeals to your justice against your inclination. p. 247.

The following attack upon Lord Thurlow has been much and justly admired.

It was well known that a gross and public insult had been offered to the memory of General Clavering and Colonel Monson, by a person of high rank in this country. He was happy when he heard that

his name was included in it with theirs. So highly did he respect the character of those men, that he deemed it an honour to share in the injustice it had suffered. It was in compliance with the forms of the House, and not to shelter himself, or out of tenderness to the party, that he forbore to name him. He meant to describe him so exactly, that he could not be mistaken. He declared in his place in a great assembly, and in the course of a grave deliberation," that it would have been happy for this country if General Clavering, Colonel Monson, and Mr Francis, had been drowned in their passage to India." If this poor and spiteful invective had been uttered by a man of no consequence or repute, by any light, trifting, inconsiderate person, by a lord of the bed-chamber, for example, or any of the other silken barons of modern days, he should have heard it with indifference. But when it was seriously urged and deliberately insisted on by a grave lord of Parliament-by a judge-by a man of ability and eminence in his profession, whose personal disposition was serious, who carried gravity to sternness, and sternness to ferocity, it could not be received with indifference, or answered without resentment. Such a man would be thought to have inquired before he pronounced. From his mouth, a reproach was a sentence, an invective was a judgment. The accidents of life, and not any original distinction that he knew of, had placed him too high, and himself at too great a distance from him, to admit of any other answer than a public defiance, for General Clavering, for Colonel Monson, and for himself. This was not a party question, nor should it be left to so feeble an advocate as he was, to support it. The friends and fellowsoldiers of General Clavering and Colonel Monson would assist him in defending their memory. He demanded and expected the support of every man of honour in that House, and in the kingdom. What character was safe, if slander was permitted to attack the reputation of two of the most honourable and virtuous men that ever were employed, or ever perished in the service of their country? He knew that the authority of this man was not without weight; but he had an infinitely higher authority to oppose to it. He had the happiness of hearing the merits of General Clavering and Colonel Monson acknowledged and applauded in terms to which he was not at liberty to do more than to allude: they were rapid and expressive. He must not venture to repeat, lest he should do them injustice, or violate the forms of respect, where essentially he owed and felt the most. But he was sufficiently understood. The generous sensations that animate the royal mind, were easily distinguished from those which rankled in the heart of that person who was supposed to be the keeper of the royal conscience,' p. 182-184.

These, though extracted from Specches, are really specimens of Sir Philip Francis's manner of writing; since they were all printed from his own manuscript. We shall add, however, one passage from a letter or discourse, sent, like those of Junius, to

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a public paper, and subscribed by his own name. It is dated so late as 1811, and relates to the great question of restriction on the Regency, then in contemplation. The author was then far advanced in years ;-but the reader, we think, will be of opinion, that, both in spirit and in style, it bears a more striking resemblance to the papers written by Junius forty years before, than any thing else that could be referred to during that long period.

The

Who is there so ignorant, as not to know that the prerogatives of the Crown are not vested for his own sake in the person who wears it, but to insure the execution of his office; and then I ask, what has the constitution reserved to any set of men to strip power the Crown of those prerogatives, or even to qualify or impair them? Show it if you can, and produce your evidence. In a case of such importance, I will not submit to authority, and, least of all, to the authority of a party, which perhaps means or expects to benefit by the decision. They, who can wholly refuse, may grant upon conditions. The Lords may say, you shall make no more Peers. The Commons may say, you shall have no power to dissolve us. Ministers of course will not submit to be dispossessed; and this is the executive government, which they are willing to establish in the prince's hands. Before they decide, let them make the case their own. Do they mean to admit that the king, uniting with a convention of the peers, could abolish the House of Commons, or even divest them of any one of their privileges? Could the King and the Commons, I will not say abolish the House of Lords, but could they take away their jurisdiction in the last resort, or in trials by impeachment?' &c. I am not talking of desperate or extreme cases. Necessity, unavoidable and irresistible, must be left to provide for itself. True wisdom even then will do nothing beyond what the instant exigency requires, and will return as soon as possible to its Neither do I deny the power of the regular established courses. people to do what they will. Undoubtedly they may tear down their temples and tribunals, and murder their teachers and their magistrates. They have a physical force to abolish their laws, and to But, remember; the trample on the institutions of their forefathers. man who pulled down the building, and buried himself in its ruins, was blind as well as strong. The quality of an immoral act is not. altered, the guilt of an enormous crime is not diminished, by the numbers that concur in it. The moment the people did these things, they would cease to be a nation. To destroy their constitution is beyond their competence. It is the inheritance of the unborn as well as theirs. What we received from our ancestors, we are morally and religiously bound, as well as by our laws, to transmit to our posterity. Of such enormous violence on the part of the people, I know there is no danger. Will they suffer any other power to do that in their name, which they cannot and ought not to do for themselves.? I heard it from Lord Chatham, that power without right is the

most odious and detestable object that can be offered to the human imagination. It is at once res detestabilis et caduca. Let who will assume such power, it ought to be resisted. Brave men meet their fate; cowards take flight, and die for fear of death.' p. 218-222.

Now, we humbly conceive, that the most careless reader must be struck, not only with the general ability and eloquence of all these passages, but with their extraordinary coincidence with the Letters of Junius, in all their most remarkable characteristics. The boldness, and even fierceness of the tone-the studied force and energy of the diction-the pointed and epigrammatic cast of the style-the concise and frequent metaphors-and the mixture of the language of business and affairs, with a certain scholastic elegance and elaborate sarcasm.

These, however, are general indications, and could lead to no positive conclusion: But there are many particular circumstances of a personal and historical nature, that go much further to make out the proposition contended for. The first of these is the exactness with which the dates of the Letters tally with Sir Philip Francis's residence in this country, and his going a broad. In Biographical Memoirs, understood to have been drawn up by a person connected with him, it is stated, that Sir Philip spent the greatest part of the year 1772 on the Continent. Now, the last letter of Junius in that year is dated May 12th, and was received by Woodfall two days before. Sir Philip's dismissal from the War Office is announced in one of the Letters of Veteran, (a name under which Woodfall has shown that Junius then wrote), dated March 23d; and some time must naturally have elapsed before he set out. A letter of Junius, dated in May, mentions his having been out of town; and, in point of fact, he wrote nothing from March 23d to May 4th. Sir Philip's father was then ill at Bath; and it is most probable that he went to sce him before going abroad. From the above mentioned notice in the Memoirs, it appears that he must have returned at the end of 1772, or early in 1773, provided we are satisfied that he went abroad in May: for it is there stated, that about half a year after his return' he was recommended as one of the new council at Fortwilliam: Now, the act appointing the council passed in June 1773;-which tallies with the supposition of his arrival having been in the month of December or January preceding. Keeping these facts in view, it is very important to remark, that the first letter received by Woodfall from Junius, after the letter of May 1772, is dated January 19th, 1773. This, too, was also the last letter which he ever wrote. The appointment of Sir Philip Francis to India was, either then or soon after, in agitation; for it was finally arranged before June. Now, the sup