the abolition of the slave-trade. In 1796 he stood for Tewkesbury, but was defeated; in 1802 he was nominated and returned for Appleby. On the death of Lord Cornwallis, it was at one time intended that Mr Francis should go to India as governor-general; but the appointment never took place; he was, however, on the recommendation of Lord Grenville, invested with the order of the Bath on the 29th of October, 1806. While in parliament, he for a time made India the great theme of his speeches, but at last declared that he had given up the task of directing the attention of the British senate to the affairs of that country in sheer despair and disgust:-" I passed," said he, "six years in perpetual misery and contest in Bengal, at the hazard of my life then a wretched voyage of ten months, and two-and-twenty years of labour in the same course, unsupported, and alone. By so long endeavouring to maintain right against wrong, I have sacrificed my repose, and forfeited all hopes of reward or personal advantage; but now I have taken my resolution, and will do so no more: I shall never again assume an active part, much less a lead, in any discussion of Indian affairs. As to future personal proceedings against any man, I am resolved to take no part in them. The impeachment of Mr Hastings cured me of that folly. I, in fact, was tried, and Mr Hastings acquitted. My spirits are exhausted, and my mind subdued by a long, unthankful, and most invidious application to one pursuit, in which I have never been able to do any good."

In 1814 he relinquished his seat in parliament, and seemed to have finally retired from public life; but on the 22d of June, 1817, he unexpectedly presented himself at a meeting of the Middlesex freeholders, and moved a petition against the suspension of the habeas corpus act in very energetic terms. Sir Philip died in December, 1818.

Sir Philip's greatest claim to notoriety now rests upon the nearly made out fact that he was the author of the far-famed 'Junius's Letters.' In an able disquisition entitled The Identity of Junius with a distinguished Living character,' published in 1816, the authorship of the 'Letters' is assigned to Sir Philip. Burke is known to have repeatedly expressed his admiration of Francis's talents as a pamphlet-writer; and the following extracts from speeches delivered by him in the house of commons prove him to have been possessed of very high talents. He thus attacked 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 paying parish taxes, except peers, so that the kingdom being divided into districts, every 2400 houses should return a member. This work was republished, with a new introduction, in 1817, in which the venerable author once more maintains, "that the possession of competent property ought to be a sine qua non to a right of disposing of the property of others." He at the same time deprecates the ideas of a former duke of Richmond respecting universal suffrage, and also the ballot, the latter, in the language of Cicero, "affording a skulking shelter for corrupt transactions, over which the sense of shame can have no effect.'

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."

His attack upon Thurlow is superlatively fine: "It was well known," said he, "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, trifling, 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."

The

In 1811 he sent a letter to the public journals on the regency question, the spirit and style of which is remarkably like Junius. The following is a specimen of this epistle: "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 power has the constitution reserved to any set of men to strip 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. commons may say, you shall have no power to dissolve us. The 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 regular established courses. Neither do I deny the power of the people to do what they will. Undoubtedly they may tear down the temples and tribunals, and murder their teachers and their magistrates. They have a physical force to abolish their laws, and to trample on the institutions of their forefathers. But, remember, the 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."

Besides these indications, there are other circumstances of a personal and historical nature that go very far to make out the identity of Sir Philip Francis and Junius. "There are three great facts connected with the publication of these letters," says the editor of an excellent edition of the Letters of Junius' published by Messrs Oliver & Boyd of Edinburgh," for every one of which some satisfactory account is required. In the first place, they must have been written by a person who resided almost uninterruptedly in London between the years 1769 and 1772. In the second place, we naturally inquire, what could have induced a writer of such talent and celebrity all at once to become silent at the end of that period. And, in the last place, we perceive, from a careful perusal of the Letters, not only that their author kept a vigilant eye on great public events, but that he was conversant with the transactions of some inferior departments of the state, in a degree which could not be expected with respect to any individual who was not himself employed in the transactions he has noticed. We allude, in particular, to the knowledge which these Letters show of events that had taken place in the war-office and in the secretary of state's office, and to the acquaintance which the author evidently had with persons known only to those who had a view of the interior of these offices. Now, it appears from the short account of Sir Philip Francis's life which we have already given, that he was employed in the war-office from the year 1763 till 1772, and, consequently, that he was always upon the spot at the time when these Letters were sent so regularly and rapidly to the press. We also perceive, from the same account, that at the end of that time he was sent as a sovereign to India, after having been forced to leave a post of £400 per annum in the war-office about a twelvemonth before. And we also know, that he was superseded in his post in the war-office by the very person to whom Junius has repeatedly shown an inveterate antipathy, and whom we may be sure Sir Philip regarded with no feelings of good-will. It is curious, indeed, to remark with what sort of feelings a person like Junius, who considered the highest characters in the kingdom as not game too high for him, regarded an ordinary clerk who had been put into his place. We find him, accordingly, descending to the lowest and most scurrilous invective whenever he touches upon that subject, and evidently uttering the language of a man whose mind is agitated between contempt and indignation. He calls Chamier, Tony Shammy-little Shammy-a tight active little fellow-a little gambling broker-little Waddlewell-my duckling-little three per cents. reduced-a mere scrip of a secretary-an omnium of all that's genteel. Bradshaw, who was connected with Chamier, he also mentions as Tommy Bradshaw, the cream-coloured Mercury, whose sister Miss Polly, like the moon, lives upon the light of her brother's countenance, and robs him of no small part of his lustre. It is obvious how well all this corresponds with the supposition of Mr Francis being the author of the Letters; and how impossible it is to conceive what other motive but his own interest in this transaction could have induced Junius to soil his pages by such frequent and scurrilous mention of it."

The same writer thus notices the correspondence of temper and character betwixt the masked Junius and Sir Philip: "We expect that Junius, whenever he shall be seen, shall be a man of high spirit, but probably also of more than ordinary impetuosity of temper-keenly at

tached to his own notions and his own party-looking with infinite disdain upon all who hold opinions incompatible with his-and disposed to allow no merit to any character that is not marked by the same device which he himself has assumed. We may allow something for the fic titious character under which the author wrote; but we never can be satisfied that a man of gentle habits, and of a forbearing mind, could by any management have assumed the appearance of the temper which these Letters disclose. On this subject we shall permit Sir Philip to speak for himself. In reference to his quarrel with Mr Hastings, he observes, 'We are both, I believe, men of a temper too warm to be capable of lasting resentments.' In a speech delivered by him on another occasion, he observes, that 'it was his purpose on this occasion to say "things strong, severe, and personal;" and if he should be thought to exceed the bounds of moderation, he desired it might not be imputed to a hasty impatience of temper, to which he was supposed to be more subject than other men; for he said them coolly and deliberately, and after having maturely reflected on their cause and on their consequences.' Again, when he was accused of placing himself on an equality with the lawyers in matters of legal opinion, he rebuts the charge in the following manner :- Much has been said of my character, much of my temper. I have, by one learned gentleman, not now present, (the master of the rolls,) been accused of comparing myself with him and with others of his profession. Such a comparison I never presumed to make. Arrogance is one thing, passion is another. Passion I have ever conceived to be an honest, open, and manly emotion of the mind; arrogance, on the contrary, I take to be a cold, deliberate, thoughtful thing. I may have made use of warm or passionate language, perhaps, but I was never guilty of the presumption and arrogance which have been imputed to me.'

"To all these arguments," continues this essayist, "it may be added that Sir Philip, during almost the whole of his long life, continued that plan of writing by which, as Junius, he is so well known. Scarcely any public event of moment occurred without drawing from him a letter or short pamphlet; and the fact seems to be, that, invisible as Junius has long been supposed to have been, he has yet, till within the last four years, been almost regularly addressing the public. At first it may seem wonderful, that while all the youth of Britain are early taught to admire and to study the writings of this author, he should have so long existed, as a living writer, without being detected. But a little reflection will abate our wonder; for it is to be remarked, in the first place, that Sir Philip was withdrawn from this country to the government of India almost immediately after the publication of the Letters of Junius -that he was thus lost to the public eye during a series of years, and at the very time when a desire to find out the author of the Letters was most intense that his youth prevented him from being at all suspected -and that when he returned to this country, it was in circumstances of disappointment and disgrace.-In the second place, it ought to be remarked, that the subjects upon which Sir Philip, after his return, employed his pen, were not of a kind to draw the attention of men of all ranks. When he wrote as Junius, he attacked the ministry in general-the premier in particular-great lords and dukes personally—the king himself and both houses of parliament-and the public attention