the winter at Perth. I must hunt and shoot for exercise, and read for entertainment. After Christmas, when the company comes into Edinburgh, and the place is in all its perfection of dirt and gaiety, I'll repair thither, and stay a fortnight or three weeks. It will help to dispel melancholy, and I have been told that a certain smell is a remedy for the vapours; there I can't fail to meet the cure. This day fortnight we leave this town, and till we return to it cannot hope to find so good quarters. According to the rotation of the troops in Scotland, the sixth year brings us back; but 'tis a dreadful interval, a little life to a military man; and for my particular, so far from being in love with the country, that I'd go to the Rhine, or Italy, nay, serve a campaign against the Turks, rather than continue in it the time I have mentioned, and that, too, in the very blooming season of our days. It is my misfortune to miss the improving hour, and to degenerate instead of brightening. Few of my companions surpass me in common knowledge but most of them in vice. This is a truth that I should blush to relate to one that had not all my confidence, lest it be thought to proceed either from insolence or vanity; but I think you don't understand it so. I dread their habits and behaviour, and am forced to an eternal watch upon myself, that I may avoid the very manner which I most condemn in them. Young men should have some object constantly in their aim, some shining character to direct them. 'Tis a disadvantage to be first at an imperfect age; either we become enamoured with ourselves, seeing nothing superior, or fall into the degree of our associates.

I'll stop here, that you may not think me very uneasy. As I now am, it is possible that I might be better pleased, but my duty and a natural indolence of temper make it less irksome; and then a pretty constant employment helps to get me through, and secures me from excess or debauch. That, too, is enough prevented by the office of a Commander.

My duty to my father.

I am, dear madam

Your obedient and affectionate Son

J. WOLFE.

CLXXV.

Lieut.-Colonel James Wolfe to Mrs. Wolfe.

Stroud: December 6, 1756.

Dear Madam,-I attribute it in some measure to the nature of my employment as well as to the condition of my blood, being everlastingly chagrined with the ill actions of the people about me, and in the constant exercise of power to punish and rebuke. I pass so much of my time at quarters, and am so intent upon having everything done in its proper way, that those aids which an equality of society, the conversation of women, and the wholesome advice of friends are known to give to minds of my cast, are totally cut off from me and denied; and if I was to serve two or three years in America I make no doubt but that I should be distinguished by a peculiar fierceness of temper suited to the nature of that war. I don't know whether a man had better fall early into the hands of those savages, than be converted by degrees into their nature and forget humanity.

It may happen that a second battalion of those regiments may have colonels appointed to them without including your son in the number. A man who never asks a favour will hardly ever obtain it. I persuade myself they will put no inferior officer (unless a peer) over my head, in which case I can't complain, not being able to say that I have ever done more than my duty, and happy if I came up to that. If any soldier is preferred when my turn comes, I shall acquaint the Secretary at War that I am sensible of the injury that is done me, and will take the earliest opportunity to put it out of his or any man's power to repeat it. Not while the war lasts; for if 500 young officers one after another were to rise before me I should continue to serve with the utmost diligence, to acquit myself to the country, and to show the Ministers that they had acted unjustly. But I flatter myself that I shall never be forced to these disagreeable measures.

I don't believe that Mrs. Goldsmith is dead, but dying. They are still at Kinsale, because she is not able to move; for her desire was to be carried to die amongst her own relations.

My cousin, whose good nature and gratitude are such that he

can refuse nothing to a wife that he thinks deserves everything at his hands, had agreed to carry her to Limerick; but she bad not strength for the journey, and I expect to hear everyday that she is at rest. I am afraid poor Goldsmith has been obliged to call in some expensive assistance, and therefore conclude that a present from the General would be acceptable. He has distinguished himself by a most considerable regard for the poorer branches of his family, for which, I make no doubt but that he himself will be considered. All mankind are indeed our relations, and have nearly an equal claim to pity and assistance; but those of our own blood call most immediately upon us. One of the principal reasons that induces me to wish myself at the head of a regiment is, that I may execute my father's plan while there remains one indigent person of his race.

CLXXVI.

The present century has produced no John Wilkes but only pinchbeck imitations of him. The witty and dissipated proprietor of the North Briton' was a complete master of the science of demagogy; and the absurdly impolitic and unconstitutional advisers of George III. provided him with the means of becoming a popular idol. His talents and virtues were, however, not sufficiently solid to make him permanently superior to the vacillations and whims of the mob. The modern Wilkes, thirsting for notoriety, and having no sound cause to champion, tickles the ears of gaping masses with dishonest flattery. This letter is written after Wilkes had been discharged from the Tower on the ground of his Privilege as a Member of Parliament. The 'general warrant' under which he had been arrested for his libellous attack on the Ministry in No. 45 of the 'North Briton,' extended to the seizure of his private papers. He had written demanding the restoration of the stolen goods, and had received a sharp rebuke from the Secretaries of State to which this is the rejoinder.

John Wilkes to Lords Egremont and Halifax (Secretaries of State.) Great George Street: May 29, 1763.

My Lords, Little did I expect, when I was requiring from your lordships what an Englishman has a right to,-his property taken from him (and said to be in your lordships' possession,)— that I should have received in answer, from persons in your high

station, the expressions of indecent and scurrilous' applied to my legal demands.

:

The respect I bear to his majesty whose servants it seems you still are (though you stand legally convicted of having in me violated, in the highest and most offensive manner, the liberties of all the commons in England), prevents my returning you an answer in the same Billingsgate language. If I considered you only in your private capacities, I should treat you both according to your deserts but where is the wonder that men who have attacked the sacred liberty of the subject, and have issued an illegal warrant to seize his property, should proceed to such libellous expressions? You say, 'that such of my papers shall be restored to me, as do not lead to a proof of my guilt.' I owe this to your apprehension of an action, not to your love of justice; and in that light, if I can believe your lordships' assurances, the whole will be returned to me. I fear neither your prosecution, nor your persecution; and I will assert the security of my own house, the liberty of my person, and every right of the people, not so much for my own sake, as for the sake of every one of my English fellowsubjects.

I am, my lords,

Your humble servant,

JOHN WILKES.

CLXXVII.

If Wilkes had not set up a printing press in his own house, after his acquittal, it is tolerably certain his enemies would have failed to obtain evidence of his being either author or publisher of the North Briton': yet he imprudently reprinted No. 45 (and some copies of an infamous poem called Essay on Woman'), speculating on immense sales. But Government bribed the very persons he employed in Great George Street to appear as witnesses against him. The following letter from Paris, whither he had gone after his duel with Mr. Martin, shows that he considered his expulsion from Parliament as certain.

John Wilkes to Humphrey Cotes.

Hotel de Saxe, Paris: January 20, 1764.

My Dearest Cotes,-Philipps writes to me in a warm strain, to return immediately; and, from the partial view he takes of my

affairs, which is so far as law and the two houses are concerned, I really think him right. You and I, my beloved friend, have more extended views; and therefore, as I have now an opportunity, I will sift it to the bottom, for I am secure of my conveyance. Your letter of the 10th leaves me no doubt of the certainty of my expulsion. Now give me leave to take a peep into futurity. I argue upon the supposition that I was expelled this morning, at one or two o'clock, after a warm debate. I am, then, no longer a member of parliament. Of consequence, a political man not in the house is of no importance, and never can be well enough, nor minutely enough, informed, to be of any great service.

6

What then am I to do in England? If I return soon, it is possible that I may be found guilty of the publication of No. 45 of the 'North Briton,' and of the Essay on Woman.' I must then go off to France; for no man in his senses would stand Mansfield's sentence upon the publisher of a paper declared by both houses of parliament scandalous, seditious, &c. The Essay on Woman,' too, would be considered as blasphemous; and Mansfield would, in that case, avenge on me the old Berwick grudge. Am I then to run the risk of this, and afterwards to confess by going away so critically—as evident a flight as Mahomet's was from Mecca? Surely not.

But I am to await the event of these two trials; and Philipps can never persuade me that some risk is not run. I have in my own case experienced the fickleness of the people. I was almost adored cne week; the next, neglected, abused, and despised. With all the fine things said and wrote of me, have not the public to this moment left me in the lurch, as to the expense of so great a variety of law-suits? I will serve them to the last moment of my life; but I will make use of the understanding God has given me, and will owe neither my security nor indemnity to them. Can I trust likewise a rascally court, who bribe my own servants to steal out of my house? Which of the opposition, likewise, can call on me, and expect my services? I hold no obligation to any of them, but to Lord Temple; who is really a superior being. It appears, then, that there is no call of honour. I will now go on to the public cause, that of every man,―liberty. Is there then any one point behind to be tried? I think not. The two important decisions in the Court of Common-Pleas and at Guildhall, have