m.

The case filled all England with intense interest. The most notable men
of the kingdom arranged to be present at the hearing. Thirty-five
members of the Privy Council were present, an unusual number at such an
assembly. Lord North was there; the Archbishop of Canterbury; even Dr.
Priestley was there.

Dr. Franklin appeared on this memorable day in a velvet coat. He took a
place in the room in a recess formed by a chimney, a retired place,
where he stood motionless and silent. The coat was of Manchester velvet,
and spotted.

Wedderburn addressed the Council. He was witty, brilliant, careless of
facts. His address on that occasion was the talk of all England in a few
days, and it led him to a career of fame that would have been success
had it had the right foundation. But nothing lasts that is not sincere.
Everything in this world has to be readjusted that is not right.

"How these letters," said he, "came into the possession of any one but
the right owners is a mystery for Dr. Franklin to explain."

He then spoke of Mr. Whatley, to whom the letters were first consigned,
and proceeded thus:

"He has forfeited all the respect of societies and of men. Into what
companies will he hereafter go with an unembarrassed face, or the honest
intrepidity of virtue? Men will watch him with a jealous eye; they will
hide their papers from him, and lock up their escritoires. He will
henceforth esteem it a libel to be called a _man of letters_; this man
of _three_ letters. (_Fur_--a thief.)"

The manner of the orator thrilled the august company. It is thus
described by Jeremy Bentham:

"I was not more astonished at the brilliancy of his lightning than
astounded by the thunder that accompanied it. As he stood, the cushion
lay on the council table before him; his station was between the seats
of two of the members, on the side of the right hand of the lord
president. I would not, for double the greatest fee the orator could on
that occasion have received, been in the place of that cushion; the ear
was stunned at every blow; he had been reading perhaps in that book in
which the prince of Roman orators and rhetoric professors instructs his
pupils about how to make impression. The table groaned under the
assault. Alone, in the recess on the left hand of the president, stood
Benjamin Franklin, in such position as not to be visible from the
situation of the president, remaining the whole time like a rock, in the
same posture, his h