proud summit of the forked hill. I have a great respect for Mr. Gray, as well as a high admiration. I am much grieved at the bad news from Canterbury. The Dean is a great loss to his family. Your affectionate sister, E. MONTAGU.

LETTER II.

The same to the same.

Hill street, Nov. 19, 1770. Your kind letter met me in Hill street on Thursday: it welcomed me to London in a very agreeable manner. I should however have felt a painful consciousness, how little I deserved such a favour, if my long omission of correspondence had not been owing to want of health. I felt ill on my journey to Denton, or rather indeed began the journey indisposed, and only aggravated my complaints by travelling.

Sickness and bad weather deprived me of the pleasure of seeing the beauties of Derbyshire. However, I got a sight of the stately palace of lord Scarsdale; where the arts of ancient Greece, and the delicate pomp of modern ages, unite to make a most mrgnificent habitation. It is the best worth seeing of any house I suppose, in England; but I know not how it is, that one receives but moderate pleasure in the works of art. There is a littleness in every work of man. The operations of Nature are vast and noble; and I found much greater pleasure in the contemplation of lord Breadalbane's mountains, rocks, and lakes, than in all the efforts of human art at lord Scarsdale's.

I continued, after my arrival at Denton, in a very poor state of health, which suited ill with con

tinual business, and made me unable to write letters in the hours of recess and quiet. Dr. Gregory came from Edinburgh to make me a visit, and persuaded me to go back with him. The scheme promised much pleasure, and I flattered myself might be conducive to health; as the doctor, of whose medical skill I have the highest opinion, would have time to obe serve and consider my various complaints. I was glad also to have an opportunity of amusing my friend Mrs. Chapone, whom I carried with me into the north.

We had a pleasant journey to Edinburgh, where we were most agreeably entertained in Dr. Gregory's house; all the literati, and the polite company at Edinburgh, paying me all kinds of attentions: and, by the doctor's regimen, my health greatly improved, so that I was prevailed upon to indulge my love of prospects by another trip to the Highlands, my good friend and physician still attending me.

The first day's journey was to lord Barjarg's, brother to Mr. Charles Erskine, who was the intimate companion and friendly competitor of my poor brother Tom. Each of them was qualified for the highest honours of his profession, which they would certainly have attained, had it pieased God to have granted longer life.

Lord Barjarg had received great civilities at Horton, when he was pursuing his law studies in England; so he came to visit me as soon as I got to Edinburgh, and in the most friendly manner pressed my passing some days at his house in Perthshire. I got there by an easy day's journey, after having also walked a long time about the castle of Stirling, which commands a very beautiful prospect.

Lord Barjarg's place is very

fine, and in a very singular style. His house looks to the south over a very rich valley, rendered more fertile, as well as more beautiful by the meandrings of the river Forth. Behind his house rise great hills covered with wood; and over them stupendous rocks. The goats look down with an air of philosophick pride, and gravity, on folks in the valley. One, in particular, seemed to me capable of addressing the famous beast of Gervaudun, if he had been there, with as much disdain, as Diogenes did the great conqueror of the east. Here I passed two days, and then his lordship and my doctor attended me to my old friend Lord Kinnoul's. You may imagine my visit there gave me a great deal of pleasure, besides what arose from seeing a fine place. I was delight ed to find an old friend enjoying that heart-felt happiness, which attends a life of virtue. Lord Kinnoul is continually employed in encouraging agriculture and manufactures; protecting the weak from injury, assisting the distressed, and animating the young people to whatever, in their various situations, is most fit and proper. He appears more happy in this station, than when he was whirled about in the vortex of the Duke of Newcastle.

The situation of a Scottish nobleman of fortune is enough to fill the ambition of a reasonable man; for they have power to do a great deal of good:

From Dupplin we went to Lord Breadalbane's at Taymouth. Here unite the sublime and beautiful: The house is situated in a valley, where the verdure is the finest imaginable; and noble beeches adorn it, and beautiful cascades fall down the midst of it. Through this valley you are led to a vast

lake: on one side the lake there is a fine country; on the other mountains lift their heads, and hide them in the clouds. In some places ranges of rocks look like vast fortified citadels. I passed two days in this fine place, where I was entertained with the greatest politeness, and kindest attentions; Lord Breadalbane seeming to take the greatest pleasure in making every thing easy, agreeable, and convenient.

My next excursion was to Lord Kames's; and then I returned to Edinburgh. With Lord Kames and his lady I have had a correspondence, ever since I was first in Scotland; so I was there received with most cordial friendship. must do the justice to the Scottish nation to say, they are the most politely hospitable of any people in the world. I had innumerable invitations, of which I could not avail myself, having made as long a holiday from my business in Northumberland, as I could afford.

I am very glad to find by letters received from my brother Robinson, that he thinks himself better from the waters of Aix.

The newspapers will inform you of the death of Mr. George Grenville. I think he is a great loss to the publick; and though in these days of ribaldry and abuse, he was often much calumniated, I believe time will vindicate his character as a publick man. Asa private one, he was quite unblemished. I regret the loss to myself: I was always pleased and inform. ed by his conversation. He had read a vast deal, and had an amazing memory. He had been versed in business from his youth, so that he had a very rich fund of conversation; and he was goodnatured and very friendly.

The king's speech has a warlike tone; but still we flatter ourselves that the French king's aversion to a war may prevent our being again engaged in one. It is reported that Mr. De Grey is to be Lord Keeper. Lord Chatham was to have spoken in the House of Lords to day, if poor Mr. Grenville's death, which happened at seven this morning, had not hindered his appearing in publick. I do not find that any change of ministry is expected.

My father and brother are very well. My sister has got the headache to day. She was so good as to come to me, and will stay till Mr. Montagu arrives in town. He did not leave Denton, till almost a week after I came away; and he was stopped at Durham by the waters being out; but I had the pleasure of hearing yesterday that he got safe to Darlington, where he was to pass a few days with a famous mathematician. But I expect him in town the end of this week.

My nephew Morris has got great credit at Eton already. My sister has in general her health extremely well. I have got much better than I was in the summer. My doctors order me to forbear writing; but this letter does not shew my obedience to them. I wish I could enliven it with more news.

The celebrated Coterie will go on in spite of all remonstrances; and there is to be an assembly thrice a week for the subscribers to the opera into the subscription; so little impression do rumours of wars, and apprehensions of the plague, make on the fine world.

We cannot resist adding the following extract from another letter,

1778.

***. I am sure you will be desirous to hear a true account of Lord Chatham's accident in the House of Lords; and of his present condition of health. The newspapers are in but little credit in general; but their account of that affair has been very exact. His Lordship had been long confined by a fit of the gout; so was debilitated by illness, and want of exercise. The house was crowded by numbers, who went to hear him on so critical a state of affairs. The thunder of his eloquence was abated, and the lightning of his eye was dimmed to a certain degree, when he rose to speak; but the glory of his former administration threw a mellow lustre around him, and his experience of publick affairs gave the force of an oracle to what he said, and a reverential silence reigned through the senate. He spoke in answer to the Duke of Richmond: the Duke of Richmond replied. Then his Lordship rose up to speak again. The Genius and spirit of Britain seemed to heave in his bosom: and he sunk down speechless! He continued half an hour in a fit. His eldest and second sons, and Lord Mahon, were in great ag ony, waiting the doubtful event. At last he happily recovered; and though he is very weak, still I am assured by his family, that he looks better than he did before this accident.

ROBERT HERON some time since published an edition of Junius, valuable not for his criticisms, but for the marginal notes and references, which give a biographick summary of the lives of those, whose infamy the page of his author records. When Mr. Heron quits the plain ground of fact, and indulges himself in conjecture, he falls into such palpable blunders, that it seems surprising how a man, blessed with such opportunities of correct information, could suffer them to pass unimproved. What shall we think of his declaration, that serjeant Dunning (afterwards lord Ashburton) was the author of Junius? To give to this assertion all the mockery of grimace, Mr. Heron further declares, that the facts, whence he forms his opinion, for want of time he is unable to communicate to the publick. By way of administring an opiate to the reader's incredulity, he informs him that the speeches of the learned serjeant abound in those epigrammatick points and attick retorts, for which the pages of Junius are so remarkable. This casual affinity (if memory is correct) is the only solitary fact, on which he grounds his assertion. Assuming it as a fact, that there is a resemblance, (for which, how ever, Mr. Heron does not condescend to cite a single instance) at the distance of three thousand miles from the ground of controversy, we venture to pronounce it an idle and ridiculous declaration, - which the friends of lord Ashburton would have indignantly resen

ted in his lifetime; and which, if accredited now, would leave a deep and indelible stain upon his urn. It is requisite to remark, that serjeant Dunning was the pride of Westminster hall, and his learning and integrity gave to his opinions, in matters of law, a solidity little inferiour to a judicial determination. Is it to be credited then, that he would, in the character of Junius, bewray his profession with such sentiments as these? The learning of a pleader is usually upon a level with his integrity. The indiscriminate defence of right and wrong contracts the understanding, while it corrupts the heart. Subtlety is soon mistaken for wisdom, and impunity for virtue. If there be any instances upon record, as some there are undoubtedly, of genius and morality united in a lawyer, they are distinguished by their singularity, and operate as exceptions.' We are aware of the inconclusiveness of this argument, as our opponent may urge, that serjeant Dunning might still have written this paragraph, as this would only prove him infamous if he did!

and condescended to wear the levity of mirth. How well does this conduct quadrate with the philippicks of Junius! This writer explicitly informs his lordship that 'language has no term of reproach, the mind no idea of detestation, that has not been happily applied to him and exhausted.' Here then lord Ashburton has another brilliant of infamy to sparkle in his coronet. He in the first place libels a profession, to which himself was an honour, and in the next, the friend, whose attentions and favours he is mean enough to receive. Let us now see, whether the real character of lord Ashburton merited such reproach. To those unacquainted with his signal virtues, it is only necessary to add, that Edmund Burke and Sir William Jones deemed him an object worthy the panegyrick of their pens. Through laborious gradations of service' he won his way to a peerage, not by the pimping politicks of a court, nor the meaner flattery of the mob. Men of honour and tried probity united against a corrupt administration, where we find the names of a Dunning and a Burke. The principal objection to the admissibility of Mr. Dunning's title to the authorship of Junius still remains to be stated.

Those, acquainted with the state of England at the time the letters of Junius first appeared, well know what alarm was excited. Every ministerial engine was set in motion to counteract their effects. Informations were filed against the publishers, and, amongst the rest, one against Mr. Woodfall, in whose paper the letters of Junius first made their appearance. Mr. Dunning was counsel for the crown.*

Vide Sir James Burrow's reports.

Mr. Dunning then retires to his closet, writes the inflammatory letter with his own hand, secretly conveys it to the press, after its publication assists in the prosecution of the printer, and makes him responsible for the guilt, which he himself had committed. The real criminal is not the unhappy man, who is arraigned at the bar, but the officer of the crown, employing all the aid of his talents and eloquence for the condemnation of a man, comparatively innocent ; while every word of reproach on the publication is a brand of infamy on the character of the speaker. Nay more, to give to this compound of treachery and turpitude every possible degree of brightening and burnishing, Mr. Dunning, in the preface to the volume of Junius, published after the trial of Woodfall, denominates this very trial a tyrannical prosecution.' It is not enough then that he should perpetrate sedition in the first place, and prosecute a printer for it in the second, but thirdly and lastly, he calls that very prosecution tyrannical.'

We purposely wave all discussion on the point, how far the claim of Mr. Dunning to the authorship of Junius may be supported on the assumed analogy between the speeches of the one and the writings of the other. If there is a similitude, the fact is far more probable that the serjeant established a precedent, followed siuce by many orators of his own country and ours, and occasionally decorated his discourses with glittering fragments from Junius, than that he was the author of those letters.

We likewise wave all discussion on the point, how far a man, immersed in such professional avo cation, habits the most of all irreconcileable to elegant writing,