ty of fear, ever incline to the latter side. I
had rather your lordship should be a coward, than a coxcomb. If however
you could attain to that reasonable and chastised opinion of yourself,
which should steer a proper mean between these extremes, should make you
feel your strength, when menaced by the most terrible adversaries, and
your weakness, when soothed by the most fawning parasites, this, my
lord, would be the highest perfection to which you could possibly
attain. I will therefore close my epistle with the discussion of a case,
which your lordship may think parallel to the species of behaviour I
have recommended to your cultivation. I mean that of the celebrated and
incomparable earl Granville, in the year 1746. I will show you what this
nobleman did, and in how many particulars you must for ever hope in vain
to resemble him.

I remember, my lord, that you and I once studied together the History of
England, in Question and Answer. If your lordship recollects, the year
1746 began in the very height of the celebrated rebellion. The ministers
of the sovereign at this time, were, that mixed and plausible character,
Mr. Pelham, and that immortalized booby, the duke of Newcastle. These
gentlemen possessed their full proportion of that passion, so
universally incident to the human frame, the love of power. They had
formed such a connection with the monied interest of the kingdom, that
no administration could go on without them. Conscious to this
circumstance, they had no toleration for a rival, they could "bear no
brother near the throne." From this sentiment, they had driven that most
able minister I have mentioned, from the cabinet of his sovereign, in no
very justifiable manner, about twelve months before. The same jealousy
kept alive their suspicions: they knew the partiality of their master:
they imagined their antagonist still lurked behind the curtain. The
distresses of the kingdom were to them the ladder of ambition. This was
the language they held to their sovereign: "The enemy is already
advanced into the heart of your majesty's dominions. We know that you
cannot do without us. You must therefore listen with patience to what we
shall dictate. Drive from your presence for ever the wisest and the
ablest of all your counsellors. This is the only condition, upon which
we will continue to serve you in this perilous moment." Majesty, as it
was but natural, was disgusted with this language. The Pelhams resigned.
Lord