The premier had for fome time been importuning him to except the feals, which he, fired with the principles of his noble family, had, with a fpirit becoming a truly great man, often difdainfully refufed. But as no one was thought more adequate to the purposes of minifterial intrigues. No ftep was left unturned to bring him over. What could not be brought to bear with him, was effected through his wife; the Premier applied to her, the true fifter of arbitrary measures, fwelled with the thought of being the lady of almost the firft fubject in the kingdom, and anxious to haye a peerage for her own fon, as well as her fon-in-law, for that was to be the price of his accepting them, took him in his foft hours of dalliance, the mollia tempora fandi, and turned him to her purpose. She went immediately to the Duke of Grafton, made him acquainted with it, and told him the was convinced if his Majefty would fend for him, and ask it as a favour, he would no longer withftand. The thing was done, and he was fent for and clofetted; the favour was asked, and the feals accepted. On his return home, he called on his friend the Marquis of Rockingham with whom he found Mr. Burke, and one or two of his old affociates, who feemed pleafed with the unexpected vifit, but when he faid "I have accepted the feals," it ftruck them all of a heap. They could not believe what they heard, but

when

66

::

when they found it was too true; his friend, the Marquis, could hold no longer; and inftantly addreffed him thus; "Mr. York, for I ftill hope to call you fo, I once looked upon you as an boneft man inflexible of any mean thing, and as one who had no ambition but that of being inftrumental to the good of fociety. "Now I defpife you. As Mr. York, I was always happy to fee you; as Chancellor never put your feet within my doors again." This fpirited address was ecchoed by the whole company, and the Chancellor retired in difgrace. The Marquis immediately flew to Lord Hardwick, the Chancellor's brother, told him the ftory, and urged to go and infift on his immediate refignation, (for Mr. York had great expectations from his brother ;) Lord Hardwicke loft no time, but went to his house, and began with, "brother what's this I hear? they tell "me you have accepted the feals? I have. "Have? and are you not afhamed to own it? you have turned your back on those friends "that have been the making of our family. "What could induce you! honour? a place

refufed is more honourable than one accepted.

Peerage? you wanted none; mine will fall in "your family. And as to money you have "enough; if not, you fhould have fhared with "me". Mr. Yorke in his defence urged his Majefty's great importunity, but Lord Hardwicke

B 2

wicke interrupted with "I'll have no replies"I come not to argue with the Chancellor but lay my injunctions on my brother. If you

66

have any future expectations from either me or "mine, go inftantly refign." Mr. York would fain have been excufed, alledging he knew not what plea to make. If you have no plea of your own, continued he, " go tell the King your friends will not let you keep them." In fhort he hurried him away, faying he would wait his return. The Chancellor went, talked the matter over with his Majefty, but could not bring himself to give them. On his entering his houfe again, Lord Hardwicke eagerly called out: "tell me, may I now embrace you as my

brother? I hope fo, replied Mr. Yorke, but દ the King would not accept my refignation." Then faid Lord Hardwicke leaving him, "adieu for ever thou meaneft of men, I was

66

once your fincereft friend, for the future con"fider me as your greatest enemy." Loaded with reproach and shame, the upbraiding of his friends, and the aggravation of his wife, with whom he was heard on Friday evening in loud altercation, he could fupport himself no longer, but flung out of the room were they were togegether with a caft of wildnefs in his eye, and ran immediately up ftairs; his lady fufpecting fomething that might not be right, inftantly followed him, and was in his chamber almost as

foon

foon as he, but not time enough to prevent his cutting his Throat with a knife he took out of his pocket as he was going up; he made an attempt alfo at cutting his wrifts, but was not able to effect it thro' her interpofition. As foon as the faw him bleeding the rung the bell and ordered her fervant to fetch the firft furgeon he could find; Mr. Langley of Gloucefter Street was brought, and he fewed up the wound, which at that time did not appear mortal. But fo deter

mined was he on his own death, that fome time after, he threw back his head and burft the ftitches, which were again repaired. It was not long before feveral of the faculty were called in; he then feemed to have fome little remorse for what he had done, and afked whether they thought he was quite out of danger; they replied he was. provided he kept himself quiet and did not cough; however he could not avoid coughing, hurt himself fome how or other, inwardly, and on Saturday evening died in the greatest agonies immaginable.

I

To his GRACE the DUKE of

GRAFTON.

MY LORD,

F I were perfonally your enemy, I might pity and forgive you. You have every claim to

com.

compaffion, that can arife from mifery and distrefs. The condition you are reduced to, would difarm a private enemy of his refentment, and leave no confolation to the most vindictive fpirit, but that fuch an object as you are, would difgrace the dignity of revenge. But in the relation you have borne to this country, you have no title to indulgence; and, if I had followed the dictates of my own opinion, I never fhould have allowed you the refpite of a moment. In your public character, you have injured every fubject of the empire; and though an individual is not authorised to forgive the injuries done to fociety, he is called upon to affert his feparate fhare in the public refentment. I fubmit however to the judgment of men, more moderate, perhaps more candid than myself. For my own part, I do not pretend to understand thofe prudent forms of decorum, thofe gentle rules of difcretion, which fome men endeavour to unite with the conduct of the greatest and most hazardous affairs. Engaged in the defence of an bonourable cause, I would take a decifive part. I should scorn to provide for a future retreat, or to keep terms with a man, who preferves no meafures with the public. Neither the abject fubmiffion of deferting his poft in the hour of danger, nor even the facred fhield of cowardice fhould protect him, I would purfue him through life, and try the laft exertion of my abilities to pre