JUNIUS.

Schlossser talks of Junius, who is to him, as to many people, more than entirely the enigma of an enigma, a vapoury likeness of Hermes Trismegistus, or a dark shadow of the medieval Prester John. Not only are most people unable to solve the enigma, but they have no idea of what it is that they are required to solve. Schlosser is in that predicament. I have to inform Schlosser that there are three separate questions about Junius, of which he has evidently never heard, and cannot, therefore, have many chances to spare for settling them. The three questions are these:-A. Who was Junius? B. What was it that armed Junius with a power over the public mind so unaccountable at this day. C. Why, having actually exercised such a power, and gained under his mask far more than he ever hoped to gain, did this Junius not come forward in his own person, when all the legal danger had long passed away, to claim a distinction that for him (among independent that they must swell the mob of sycophants. The public compels them to exaggerate the true proportions of such people, as we see or hear every hour in our own day. Those who for the moment modify, or may modify, the national condition, become preposterous idols in the eyes of the gaping public; but with the sad necessity of being too utterly trodden under foot after they are shelved, unless they live in men's memory by something better than speeches in Parliament. Having the usual fate, Fox was complimented, whilst living, on his knowledge of Homeric Greek, which was a jest: he knew neither more nor less of Homer and his Ionic Greek than most English gentlemen of his rank; quite enough, that is, to read the "Iliad" with unaffected pleasure, far too little to revise the text of any ten lines without making himself ridiculous. The excessive slenderness of his general literature, English and French, may be seen in the letters published by his secretary, Trotter. But his fragment of a history, published by Lord Holland at two guineas, and currently sold for two shillings (not two pence, or else I have been defrauded of one shilling and tenpence), most of all proclaims the tenuity of his knowledge. He looks upon Malcolm Laing as a huge oracle; and having read even less than Hume-a thing not very easy-with great naïvelé, cannot guess where Hume picked up his facts.

the vainest of men) must have been more precious than his heart's blood? The two questions B and C I have examined in past times, and I will not here repeat my conclusions further than to say, with respect to the last, that the reason for the author not claiming his own property was this-because he dared not; because, for that man who was Junius, it would have been mere infamy to avow himself as Junius; because it would have revealed a crime, and would have published a crime in his own earlier life, for which many a man is transported in our days, and for less than which many a man has been, in neighbouring lands, hanged, broken on the wheel, burned, gibbeted, or impaled. To say that he watched and listened at his master's key-holes, is nothing. It was not key-holes only that he made free with, but keys; he tampered with his master's seals; he committed larceniesnot like a brave man risking his life on the highway, but petty larcenies-larcenies in a dwelling-house-larcenies under the opportunities of a confidential situation-crimes which formerly, in the days of Junius, our bloody code never pardoned in villains of low degree. Junius was in the situation of Lord Byron's Lara, or-because Lara is a foul plagiarism-of Harriet Lee's Kruitzner. All the world over, or nearly, Lara moved in freedom as a nobleman, haughtily and irreproachably. But one spot there was on earth in which he durst not for his life show himself-one spot in which instantly he would be challenged as a criminal-nay, whisper it not, ye forests and rivers! challenged as a vile midnight thief. But this man, because he had money, friends, and talents, instead of going to prison, took himself off for a jaunt to the Continent. From the Continent, in full security, and in possession of the otium cum dignitate, he negotiated with the govern

ment, whom he had alarmed by publishing the secrets which he had stolen. He succeeded. He sold himself to great advantage. Bought and sold he was; and of course it is understood that if you buy a knave, and expressly in consideration of his knaveries, you secretly undertake, even without a special contract, not to hang him. "Honour bright!" Lord Barrington might certainly have indicted Junius at the Old Bailey, and had a reason for wishing to do so: but George III., who was a party to the negotiation, and all his ministers, would have said, with fits of laughter, "Oh, come now, my lord, you must not do that. For since we have bargained for a price to send him out as a member of council to Bengal, you see clearly that we could not possibly hang him before we had fulfilled our bargain. Then it is true we might hang him after he comes back; but since the man (being a clever man) has a fair chance in the interim of rising to be Governor-General, we put it to your candour, Lord Barrington, whether it would be for the public service to hang his excellency?" In fact, Sir Philip might very probably have been Governor-General, had his vile temper not overmastered him. Had he not quarrelled so viciously with Mr Hastings, it is ten to one that he might, by playing his cards well, have succeeded him. As it was, after enjoying an enormous salary, he returned to England, not Governor-General certainly, but still in no fear of being hanged. Instead of hanging him, on second thoughts, government gave him a red riband. He represented a borough in Parliament; he was an authority upon Indian affairs; he was caressed by the Whig party; he sat at good men's tables. He gave for toasts-Joseph Surface sentiments at dinner-parties-"The man that betrays "[something or other]-" The man that sneaks into "

[other men's portfolios, perhaps]-"is" ay, what is he? Why, he is perhaps a Knight of the Bath, has a sumptuous mansion in St James's Square, dies full of years and honour, has a pompous funeral, and fears only some such epitaphr as this" Here lies, in a red riband, the man who built a great prosperity on the basis of an unparalleled knavery." I complain heavily of Mr Taylor, the very able unmasker of Junius, for blinking the whole questions B and C. He it is that has settled the question A, so that it will never be re-opened by a man of sense. A man who doubts, after really reading Mr Taylor's work, is not only a blockhead, but an irreclaimable blockhead. It is true that several men, among them Lord Brougham, whom Schlosser (though hating him, and kicking him) cites, still profess, or are said to profess, scepticism. But the reason is evident: they have not read the book, they have only heard of it. They are unacquainted with the strongest arguments, and even with the nature of the evidence.* Lord Brougham, indeed, is generally reputed to have reviewed

* Even in Dr Francis's "Translation of Select Speeches from Demosthenes," which Lord Brougham would be likely to consult in his own labours on that theme, there may be traced several peculiarities of diction that startle us in Junius. Sir Philip had them from his father, Dr Francis. And Lord Brougham ought not to have overlooked them. The same thing may be seen, as was pointed out by Mr Taylor, in the notes to Dr Francis's translation of "Horace." These points, though not independently of conclusive importance, become far more so in combination with others. The reply made to me once by a publisher of some eminence upon this question is remarkable, and worth repeating. "I feel," he said, "the impregnability of the case made out for Sir Philip Francis by Mr Taylor. But the misfortune is, that I have seen so many previous impregnable cases made out for other claimants." Ay, that would be unfortunate. But the misfortune for this repartee was, that I, for whose use it was intended, not being in the predicament of a stranger to the dispute, having seen every page of the pleadings, knew all (except Mr Taylor's) to be false in their statements of fact; after which, that their arguments should be ingenious or subtle, signified nothing.

F-VIII.

Mr Taylor's book. That may be; it is probable enough. What I am denying is not at all that Lord Brougham reviewed Mr Taylor, but that Lord Brougham read Mr Taylor. And there is not much wonder in that, when we see professed writers on the subject, bulky writers, writers of answers and refutations, dispensing with the whole of Mr Taylor's book, single paragraphs of which would have forced them to cancel the sum total of their own. The possibility of scepticism, after really reading Mr Taylor's book, would be the strongest exemplification upon record of Sancho's proverbial reproach, that some men "want better bread than is made of wheat "—would be the old case renewed from the scholastic grumblers, "that some men do not know when they are answered." They have got their quietus, and they still continue to "maunder" on with objections long since disposed of. In fact, it is not too strong a thing to say-and Chief-Justice Dallas did say something like it—that if Mr Taylor is not right, if Sir Philip Francis is not Junius, then was no man ever yet hanged on sufficient evidence. Even confession is no absolute proof. Even confessing to a crime, the man may be mad, or a knavish simulator. Well, at least seeing is believing: if the court sees a man commit an assault, will not that suffice? Not at all: ocular delusions on the largest scale are common. What's a court? Lawyers have no better eyes than other people. Their physics are often out of repair; and whole cities have been known to see things that could have no existence. Now, all other evidence is held to be short of this blank seeing or blank confessing. But I am not at all sure of that. Circumstantial evidence, that multiplies indefinitely its points of internexus, its nodes of intersection, with known admitted facts, is more impressive than any possible direct testimony. If