ity and firmness, but not without respect.

Sir,

It is the misfortune of your life, and originally the cause of every
reproach and distress which has attended your government, that you
should never have been acquainted with the language of truth until you
heard it in the complaints of your people. It is not, however, too late
to correct the error of your education. We are still inclined to make
an indulgent allowance for the pernicious lessons you received in your
youth, and to form the most sanguine hopes from the natural benevolence
of your disposition. We are far from thinking you capable of a direct,
deliberate purpose to invade those original rights of your subjects on
which all their civil and political liberties depend. Had it been
possible for us to entertain a suspicion so dishonourable to your
character, we should long since have adopted a style of remonstrance
very distant from the humility of complaint. The doctrine inculcated by
our laws, _That the king can do no-wrong_, is admitted without
reluctance. We separate the amiable, good-natured prince from the folly
and treachery of his servants, and the private virtues of the man from
the vices of his government. Were it not for this just distinction, I
know not whether your Majesty's condition, or that of the English
nation, would deserve most to be lamented. I would prepare your mind
for a favourable reception of truth by removing every painful,
offensive idea of personal reproach. Your subjects, Sir, wish for
nothing but that, as _they_ are reasonable and affectionate enough to
separate your person from your government, so _you_, in your turn,
should distinguish between the conduct which becomes the permanent
dignity of a king and that which serves only to promote the temporary
interest and miserable ambition of a minister.

You ascended the throne with a declared--and, I doubt not, a
sincere--resolution of giving universal satisfaction to your subjects.
You found them pleased with the novelty of a young prince whose
countenance promised even more than his words, and loyal to you, not
only from principle, but passion. It was not a cold profession of
allegiance to the first magistrate, but a partial, animated attachment
to a favourite prince, the native of their country. They did not wait
to examine your conduct nor to be determined by experience, but gave
you a generous credit for the future blessings of your reign, and paid
you in advance the dearest tr