him for support; and for the emoluments of remaining one day more in office, care not how much his sacred character is prostituted and dishonoured.
If I thought it possible for this paper to reach the closet, I would venture to appeal at once to his Majesty's judgement. I would ask him, but in the most respectful terms, "As you are a young man, sir, who ought to have a life of happiness in prospect;—as you are a husband;—as you are a father, (your filial duties I own, have been religiously performed) is it bona fide for your interest or your honour to sacrifice your domestic tranquillity, and to live in a perpetual disagreement with your people, merely to preserve such a chain of beings as North, Barrington, Weymouth, Gower, Ellis, Onslow, Rigby, Jerry Dyson, and Sandwich? Their very names are a satire upon all government, and I defy the gravest of your chaplains to read the catalogue without laughing."
For my own part, sir, I have always considered addresses from parliament, as a fashionable, unmeaning formality. Usurpers, idiots,
